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. Last Updated: 07/27/2016

Paying Respect to the Late Mr. Noodle

The news Friday of the death of the Ramen noodle guy surprised those who had never suspected there was such an individual. It was easy to assume that instant noodle soup was one of those depersonalized corporate miracles, like the Honda Civic, the Sony Walkman and Hello Kitty, that sprang from that ingenious consumer-product collective known as postwar Japan.

But no. Momofuku Ando, who died in Ikeda, near Osaka, at 96, was looking for cheap, decent food for the working class when he invented Ramen noodles all by himself in 1958. His product -- fried, dried and sold in little plastic-wrapped bricks or foam cups -- turned the company he founded, Nissin Foods, into a global giant. According to the company's web site, instant Ramen satisfies more than 100 million people per day. Aggregate servings of the company's signature brand, Cup Noodles, reached 25 billion worldwide in 2006.

There are other versions of fast noodles. Spaghetti in a can is sweetish and a gloppy first cousin of dog food. Macaroni and cheese in a box is a convenience product that requires several steps.

Ramen noodles, by contrast, are a dish of effortless purity. Like the egg, or tea, they attain a state of grace by marriage with nothing but hot water. After three minutes in a yellow bath, the noodles soften. The pebbly peas and carrot chips turn practically lifelike. A near-weightless assemblage of plastic and foam is transformed into something recognizable as food for as little as 20 cents per serving.

There are some imperfections. The fragile cellophane around the Ramen brick tends to open in a rush, spilling broken noodle bits around. The silver seasoning packet does not always tear open evenly, and bits of sodium essence can be trapped in the foil hollows, always leaving you to wonder whether the broth, rich and salty as it is, is as rich and salty as it could have been. The aggressively kinked noodles form an aesthetically pleasing nest in cup or bowl, but when slurped their sharp bends spray droplets of broth that settle uncomfortably about the lips and leave dots on your computer screen.

But those are minor quibbles. Ramen noodles have earned Ando an eternal place in the pantheon of human progress. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime. Give him Ramen noodles, and you don't have to teach him anything.

This comment was published in The New York Times.