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THE POT Noodle has an image problem. It's not an aspirational snack. You imagine them spilt amid the needles and vomit on a junkie's living-room carpet. Or left half-eaten by some bachelor's bedside, abandoned on top of a pile of dog-eared copies of Razzle. Or piling up in the wire basket of some friendless individual in the queue behind you in Tesco, making you feel all cosy and superior about your organic kumquats and family pack of part-baked croissants.
But the Pot Noodle, for those who can overcome their prejudices, offers a world of unregarded pleasure - due as much to what it kicks against, as to what it tastes like.
It is gloriously unpretentious food. The fierce, synthetic flavourings are so intense and dusty, they give you the impression that someone has managed to turn smoky bacon crisps into a hot meal. It's...