This is the story of Vite Ramen v3.1

I'll be doing a live stream demo on Thursday, 3PM PST at twitch.tv/timjzheng

Everyone’s raising prices. We’re dropping prices for v3.1 despite the tariffs. This is how.

My thumb shook violently. Four hours of sleep isn't bad for the stress I was under from the tariffs. Survivable for a day.

But I was on day 4. Not 4 hours per day. Total. One hour average.

My body wasn’t taking it well.

Everyone was raising prices. Some 10%. Others 50% or more. The apologetic emails were already flowing, customers everyone being shocked at price increases, pressure mounting and small businesses being the ones forced to deliver the bad news.

But we couldn’t raise prices. Not after so many of you had donated. Not after the hundreds of messages that sat open in a tab, reloading every time I needed a reminder as to why we were doing this.

“Stay strong. You’ve got people backing you. We’ll get through it together.”

“I have ADHD… your ramen and powders have helped me so much.”

“Hang in there, Tim and company! We're all in this together”

“Don’t you dare go under.”

There'd been encouraging words. People saying they wouldn't blame us if we raised prices. Saying it was the smart move. The only move.

But there’s an angle to find. There always is.

This is the story of v3.1. This is the story of how, because of you, our community, believing in us when everything looked like it would fail, we were able to drag ourselves back up onto our feet.

This is the story of how, while most companies would still be scheduling meetings about concepts, we found all the pieces for Vite Modular Kitchen to blaze into existence in under a month.

My hands were hurting again, but then again, everything did after that many days without rest. Each extra hour awake is another hour of wear, even when "just sitting."  The chronic, decades old pain stabbing at my shoulder blades had evolved something sharper, like someone was slowly working a rusty knife into my back. Each breath pulled at muscles, locked up in their own silent protest, sending a painful, electric tingle from my neck all the way down to my fingertips.

The clock was ticking. The donations let us break the surface, take a gasp of air in the impossible maelstrom. But what happens if the tariffs stay in place? What happens if another wild policy drops out of nowhere? We were thrown this life vest made of trust to stay afloat, but we had to learn how to swim in this maelstrom.

The promise echoed: We wouldn't raise prices because of tariffs.

I pressed a button, and the motors of my desk began to whirr to life, angrily protesting against the added weight of piles of dishes and clutter on my desk. I’d completed the R&D for v3.1 a while ago, and the initial orders had been placed months ago. But the standard v3.1 ramen packets were just as vulnerable to the tariffs, with all their packaging, and the special ingredients, like the special Sichuan Peppercorns, that came from China.

There's always an angle. I knew there was. I just wasn’t seeing it. I'd work in the mornings and afternoons, the endless list of copywriting and operations and editing and whatever else, and I'd stay up at night, searching, wracking my brain, giving up those precious hours as daylight would crawl ever closer. But I couldn't find it, no matter how many hours I stole from myself.

Despite all my preparations, despite everything I’d tried to predict, what we were facing was unprecedented. Again. I was getting pretty tired of living through unprecedented events.

Right. V3.1. I sighed deeply. I still had to write the patch notes for those. How do I do those again? It’d been so long. I clicked on our website, finding the old ones to read through.

The standing didn’t help anymore-- my feet and legs hurt too. I read through the patch notes, hoping maybe I’d find some solution there... and then laughed, despite everything.

Four sachets. We'd actually launched Vite Ramen at first with four separate packets. The Noodtrient sachet, separate from the rest, a flavor pouch, a small sachet of dehydrated vegetables, and a packet of neutral canola oil.

I shook my head. We used to separate everything because we had an aversion to blending things together. Looking back, that was probably the autistic tendencies talking, something we didn’t want to do for no particularly good reason. Still, you couldn’t fault our attention to detail. The little packet of neutral canola oil was there specifically to fill out macronutrient balance to a ratio that makes you feel full and stay full longer, and having that little extra addition of oil helped with the body’s absorption of fat-soluble nutrients.

But four sachets. Those powders and oils get put into sachets at another facility in the USA for allergen control purposes. We paid a premium to have it done in the USA, to support other small businesses in the USA, and for the quality they could provide.

Each sachet, just the empty pouch and the labor to fill it, cost us significantly more than an entire pack of cheap ramen. We were paying more for film and packing than the entire bag costs, but that wasn’t news. It was the cost of quality. Of doing things properly.

But four sachets back then... I shook my head in dismay. No wonder we had so much trouble back then. We didn’t(and still don’t) have automated machines for it, and trying to stuff four sachets into packets by hand was a nightmare, and though we got very good at it, was still a huge hassle.

I closed out the patch notes. Nothing there, I thought, and considering I’d just read through all of them, reliving memories, and hadn’t typed out a single word, knew that writing v3.1 patch notes was unlikely.

The stress was getting to me. I had to find a solution.

My neck sent another spike of pain down my left arm. The buzzing tension in my head felt hot, like the fizzling static of a circuit breaker about to blow.

Deep breath. I glanced at the clock. The sun would be up soon. People would be clocking in, and I’d lose this precious thinking time to the deluge of messages, approvals, and other messages that I was sure to have.

Inventory was to be done today. Maybe there was some kind of solution I could find with inventory efficiencies. The old v3.0 Noodtrients were running low, and the v3.1 Noodtrients, the ones without L-selethinomine that made some people hate the smell of our broth, were delayed. Of course they were.

They were made by a company in the USA, but many of the raw materials came from China... And that meant that they, too, like everything else, would be affected by tariffs.

I smiled wryly at the screen. Because of the quality we demanded from the nutrients, getting all the bioavailable forms and what a company rep not-so-affectionately described as “the cadillac of nutrients,” these were probably one of the things that caused us the most pain. Sometimes, though, it wasn’t because of the supply chain itself-- sometimes, it was mistakes from us.

Like when our supply chain person at the time accidentally double ordered in 2021, leaving us with thousands and thousands of pounds of extra Noodtrients.

“Hey, uh...” I stared at the invoice in confusion, then our bank account, and back to the invoice. “Why... are they claiming we owe double?”

“That’s not right.” He took a look at the invoice, and pointed at the attached documents. “Look, the purchase order says the right amount. Must be an accounting error.”

“Yeah, must be--” I frowned, and froze. “Uhm.”

“What?”

“It says we have... two POs active.”

“We only submitted one though, and--” He froze, this time. “Um. So, you’re not going to be happy with this...”

Turns out the new automated system that he was building had encountered a bug of some sort. Whether it was the servers accidentally double sending, or the code running twice and generating a new PO, we didn’t know.

But the fact of the matter was, we had double the noodtrients we planned for. And... we had to figure out how to do something with it.

I took some home to experiment with, trying to develop a flavor, something, anything. But everything required more purchasing, more waiting, more problems in and of itself. I couldn’t figure anything out... and then, I noticed something I was doing.

I have sensory issues, due to my neurodivergence. I love vegetables... only when they’re cooked right, which takes a lot of work. I’m allergic to fruits. Part of why Vite Ramen was first made WAS because I was terrible at getting nutrition. I also really, really don’t like multivitamin pills, and multivitamin gummies are notorious for not having nearly everything you need, especially minerals, and usually in low-quality forms too.

I’d been mixing the Noodtrients directly in other foods I’d been cooking. Coffee too, sometimes, or even into Vite Ramen to double up on nutrition.

I paused, and stared at the spoon in my hand. Hang on. Why don’t we just... release this to EVERYONE, so they can do the same thing?

Nanoboost v1.0 was born out of this, and later, nanoboost v2.0 and Nanoboost Vitality, and Nanoboost Base.

It’s funny. That was the first time that we had to deal with an excess of ingredients. Normally, we’re facing shortages-- like we were with the tariffs.

I sighed deeply again in frustration, shaking my head. A different time, a different crisis with different constraints. Back then, too much, and now, not enough.

This was one of the things we had discussed with the Vite community too when we were opening up donations. How do you get by when you don’t have supply or ingredients?

By far the most common response, the question that’s been asked for years... If you used to cook at Michelin Star restaurants... why don’t you do a cookbook, or cooking lessons?

(which, for anyone wondering about the progress of that-- I’m working on it! I hope to have it done by July)

That’d been the basis of the VKS project too, which was a response to how many people wanted to learn how to use, and sharpen knives, after we’d created so many. Everything connected somehow. The knives, the teaching, the streaming I couldn't keep up with—all pieces scattered across my desk like the collection of mugs and glasses.

But... as much as I loved streaming, and loved teaching, I simply kept getting overwhelmed with too much work to be able to stream consistently. VKS was a massive project by itself, and even that had to be scaled down and adjusted because of the tariffs. If I was able to keep up with streaming, keep editing and posting shorts, I was sure I’d be able to grow, and be able to do marketing with that instead of having to pay for ads, but...

“You’re doing too much. Like always.”

The little monkey in my head was talking again.

“You’re chasing the shiny new things.”

No I’m not. You know how much time we spent researching, you know how--

“You’re just scattered. Can’t focus. As usual.”

The research was important. We’ll figure it out, we just need time--

"Another project only you care about. A waste of time.”

Maybe that little monkey was right.

It was all awkward. All disconnected. A ramen company doing knives? Doing drink powders? The messaging never connected, and every email, every social we sent out would speak to one audience, and lose another. We had no shortage of messages asking what the hell we were doing, people angry about vtubers, or knives, or nanoboost, or even Vite Ramen, because all they'd seen was an ad for naked noods.

We'd tried separate websites, creating sub-brands... but they failed every time. Some staff would want to run them, and then... it’d fall to the wayside as they realized they didn’t have the experience, the skills to do it. Too many moving parts. Too many decisions that paralyzed them. And who could blame them?

My coffee had gone cold hours ago. Was it my morning coffee at this point, or... My gaze wandered over the table to see other mugs, half-empty, not a single one finished.

The tariff calculations stared back from the screen. That's what I was supposed to be doing, figuring out how to stretch the donations, how to minimize damage, how to survive.

My brain wasn’t working in this silence. Music was cutting it, and at this hour, no one that I’d normally watch was streaming. I opened up youtube restlessly, finding a video to watch, scrolling through the recommendations. Cooking videos. Vtubers. Video essays about businesses. I’d felt somewhat guilty watching videos, when I should’ve been finding a solution, and settled on the business oriented videos. Maybe they’d say something useful that gave me insight.

But they didn’t. Everything those talking heads said, we’d done, a thousand times over. I let it autoplay on the side.

Maybe I could try being productive again. We’d been experimenting with Naked Noods more again, not as a sub-brand, but more integrated into our regular thing. I’d launched an email flow some weeks back, that would send out the story of Naked Noods when someone was a first time purchaser, and were hoping those stats were turning out better.

The videos kept autoplaying in the background. Something about the Red Lobster bankruptcy and endless shrimp.

I shook my head in dismay. The open rates were promising, but only time would tell, and the background words weren’t inspiring any confidence. The Naked Noods story was one I knew well, a story of defiance... and I guess sometimes, you need your past self to remind you of who you are.

Naked Noods. Our most popular product, born from pure desperation when COVID emptied our warehouses.Two weeks. We'd created a completely new product in two weeks because the alternative was death. I read through the story I’d written a year ago.

“I refused to go out like this.”

I smiled. It was never easy, was it? It never has been. It’s always been like this. The video droned on in the background. Something about Costco. I kept reading.

“I built Vite Ramen in the face of those who said we couldn’t do it. All we had to do was do the impossible again. And why not? Doing the impossible is what we’re good at.”

Easy for you to say, past Tim. But looking at these numbers... More and more, it seemed like raising prices was the only way.

“If you raise the price of the effing hot dog, I will--” the video in the background blurted, as if reading my thoughts.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I was trying to figure out the same, except, I couldn’t have big loss leaders like Costco could.

“Costco’s bulk wholesale model reduces storage space costs, and members understand that buying in volume means significant savings...”

Sure, we have larger packs available that give discounts, but--

My fingers froze over the keyboard.

I looked at the Naked Noods story on my screen. Bulk noodles. Created when we had nothing but flour and spite.

Nanoboost. A mistake in bulk powder that became a product, and later, a successful kickstarter that created its own line of products.

Including Nanoboost Base, also bulk packed in a tin, a line of Noodtrient enhanced flavor powders similar to our broths. But they’d never been very popular, because people would be confused with the awkward messaging, the separate mini-site that--

Wait.

The pieces began to fall into place, and my heart started racing. Not from the half-full coffees, but from a realization.

The sachets. 4 of them, all separate.

My hands started moving faster than my exhausted brain could follow. Opening spreadsheets, inventory systems, cost analyses. The Costco video kept playing, but I wasn't listening anymore.

All these scattered pieces. Unedited cooking videos. VKS knives. Nanoboost. Naked Noods. All the things the little monkey mocked me about.

"You're doing too much. Scattered. Chasing shiny things."

Maybe. But maybe I was chasing them because they were pieces to a puzzle. What if they weren't scattered? What if they were...

My neck cracked in protest as I lurched forward, pulling up more spreadsheets. Everything was breaking apart-- my body, my sanity, Vite’s future. But maybe...

Maybe breaking it all apart was the answer.

Why did ramen have to be in ramen packets? Why did everything need to be in little sachets? Why were we stuck doing the same things that everyone else did?

The packaging was what was affected by the tariffs the most. We couldn’t just take them away. But what if... what if we separated them, like before?

The sun was coming up, but I wasn’t tired anymore. My back straightened, and my hands surged with renewed energy, their trembling nearly gone, and the drone of the video was replaced with the click-clack of a mechanical keyboard sprinting at the speed of hyperfixation.

Naked Noods already formed the foundation.

The spreadsheet cells began filling themselves as my fingers flew. Bulk powder pouches! Like Nanoboost Base, but the actual Vite Ramen flavors. One large pouch instead of 12 sachets. The math was beautiful in its simplicity.

If the tariffs made the packaging more expensive... then eliminate the packaging, as much as possible.

My fingers couldn't type fast enough. The oils. Those aromatic, finishing oils we'd been adding for flavor and nutrient absorption, caramelized garlic and green onion, the ones that made Garlic Pork sing and Miso come alive.

What if those weren't in sachets either? What if they came concentrated in dropper bottles? The cost savings cascaded down the spreadsheet like dominoes.

My brain was running too hot, that buzzing you get right before a fever breaks, connections sparking faster than I could document them. Our packaging line. Stuffing sachets into packets by hand because we couldn't afford an automated machine. How many hours did we lose to that? How much did that labor cost?

If they bulk filled both of these at the other facility, we could focus on our noodles and... My eyes widened. We could eliminate an entire production step, all the setup and teardown, and--

The sun was up, and the first notification popped up. Someone clocking in. I ignored it. Not now. Not when I was this close. More pings. Team asking about the day's priorities. They'd have to wait. This was the priority.

And the fulfillment efficiencies! We could spend more time fulfilling, and also faster! You know how long it takes to grab 12 packets, to count them, double check-- but three bulk containers? We could cut fulfillment time too, and--

Wait.

My hands began to shake again, and that friction, that burning buzzing returned in my head, and the forgotten pains ignited across my body.

We’ve done this before.

Nanoboost Base...

Barely anyone bought it. Barely anyone even knew it existed. Wave 2 expired in our warehouse, tired powders in tins that no one wanted. I'd personally salvaged a few for myself, thrown the rest in the dumpster, watching months of work disappear.

The sunrise streaming through my window felt mocking now. Of course. Of course this was just another scattered idea. Another "innovation" that only made sense in my sleep-deprived brain. People didn't want components. They wanted convenience. They wanted their ramen in packets like ramen was supposed to come.

I was just separating things again, wasn't I? Making it complicated. Like those four original sachets that nearly killed us. Like every overcomplicated system I'd ever—

But.

My eyes drifted to the donation tab. Still open. Still refreshing every time my anxiety spiked.

"Your ramen and powders have helped me so much."

Powders. Plural. I knew there were people who had subscriptions on Nanoboost we had to cancel before.

I shoved aside the pain, and pulled up more numbers, more data, frantically searching.

Naked Noods was our best seller. Not Vite Ramen. Just the noodles. People were already buying components, and asking for recipes, more creative ways to use them.

And the knife buyers. They didn't just want knives. They wanted to know how to care for them, how to sharpen them, how to use them the best. They wanted...

Skills. Just like VKS. Just like the digital cookbook.

Oh.

All the pieces fell into place. Every shiny object was a component waiting for its place. Every “failed” project was a learning process. But when we put them all together, gave them all context...

The little monkey in my head was noticeably silent.

Everything revolved around our core belief: Eating healthy shouldn’t mean changing your whole life. Eating healthy should mean meeting you where you are, with more flexibility, not less.

The Vite Modular Kitchen.

I opened a new document. My hands weren't shaking anymore.

Start with someone terrified of their kitchen. Maybe their executive dysfunction makes meal planning feel impossible. Maybe they've been burned, literally or metaphorically, by every attempt at "eating healthy." Maybe they're just exhausted from existing in a world built for different brains, and surviving on energy drinks and snacks.

It starts there, with Vite Ramen. Boil water, add noodles, done. No shame. No "you should be past eating ramen by now." Just simple, easy nutrition, whenever you need it.

Your First Modular Kitchen Experience:

1. Boil water. Add Naked Noods.

2. Add 1 scoop from the Vite Flavor Base of your choosing. We include a scoop.

3. Add a few drops of finishing oil. More if you're feeling fancy. Less if you're not. Your kitchen, your rules.

4. Stir and eat.

Then, try adding other flavor bases, or other finishing oils, mixing and matching to your taste. Add fresh ingredients, slowly, make things that are guaranteed to not only taste good, but keep your body healthy and fight against the brain fog. Learn knife skills, learn cooking, boost any meal with micronutrients, or stay at the ramen, jump around depending on the day.

No forced linear progressions. No “you should be making everything from scratch,” or shame for forgetting your vegetables in the fridge. Flexibility. Accommodation. Tools to meet you where you are, to support what you want to do.

My fingers kept moving. The pieces weren’t scattered anymore. They were parts of a kitchen. A modular kitchen meeting reality, not perfect people with perfect routines. A system that celebrated the days where you can make a full tasty, nutritious meal from scratch, and a system that supported you on the days where you can barely boil water. A system that knows nutrition needs to happen regardless of the state of your executive function.

And this system is cheaper than Vite Ramen. Because all of the savings we found, all of the efficiencies... We’re not taking all the additional profits and running with it. Instead, these savings are going to you.

Vite Modular Kitchen will begin at 20% lower price compared to the equivalent 12 pack of Vite Ramen, or only $5.80 per nutritionally complete meal. For reference, Vite Ramen is currently at $7.50 per nutritionally complete meal for equivalent flavors.

At the high end, the 48 meal bundle will be 33% lower price, or only $4.89 per nutritionally complete meal!

Tier 4+, current subscribers will have even better deals offered as well, up to 44.5% off, or just $4.16 per meal, as thank you for the support. We’ll have more information on the 27th on how subscriptions will work, and swapping over! This will extend to EVERYONE WHO DONATED TO OUR TARIFF RELIEF as well, no matter how big or small!

Full v3.1 Patch Notes will drop on May 27th as well!

Vite Modular Kitchen:

Voyage Starter Set (12 Complete Meals):
1-1-1


12 pack Vite Naked Noods
12 servings Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Vite Finishing Oil

Flavor choices:
Vegan White Miso
Woodland Umami Mushroom
Garlic Pork Tonkotsu
Roasted Soy Sauce Chicken

Vibrance Creator Set (24 Complete Meals):
2-2-2

Meat Lovers:
24 pack Vite Naked Noods
12 servings Garlic Pork Tonkotsu Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Roasted Soy Sauce Chicken Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Caramelized Garlic Finishing Oil
12 servings Umami Shoyu Finishing Oil

Plant Based:
24 pack Vite Naked Noods
12 servings Vegan White Miso Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Woodland Umami Mushroom Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Zesty Lemongrass Finishing Oil
12 servings Vibrant Green Onion

Vitality Mastery Set (48 Complete Meals):
4-4-4

48 pack Vite Naked Noods
12 servings Garlic Pork Tonkotsu Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Roasted Soy Sauce Chicken Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Vegan White Miso Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Woodland Umami Mushroom Vite Flavor Base
12 servings Caramelized Garlic Finishing Oil
12 servings Umami Shoyu Finishing Oil
12 servings Zesty Lemongrass Finishing Oil
12 servings Vibrant Green Onion

Complete nutrition for less than a fast food burger. More protein than a protein bar. Faster and easier than delivery. A system that grows with you. Or doesn't. Your choice.

You gave us space to think. Space to breathe. Space to see that every piece was connected.

We promised that we wouldn’t raise prices because of tariffs. We’re keeping that promise, and then some.

The tariffs are still here. They'll still hurt. But they won't kill us. Not anymore.

Because of you.

I want to be very clear. The tariffs didn't make this happen. It’d be like saying abuse is good because it makes people tougher, or like thanking the arsonist for burning down your house so you could add more fire extinguishers.

It's our community devotion and resilience that made this happen. The tariffs pushed people into believing that raising prices or dying was the only thing they could do. But with your help, we found another way.

V3.1 and Vite Modular Kitchen preorders launch May 29th, with early access for T4+ and subscribers May 27th.

The tariffs are still here. But we are too.

Thanks for making sure of that.

-Tim, Founder Vite

P.S. Why preorders? We have our materials split and waiting right now, as we’re not sure how much to allocate where. This is a brand new launch of a brand new thing, so we’re waiting for initial sales before making a decision. This means estimated wait time can be anywhere from 6-8 weeks, though we’ll try to be making it shorter. V3.1 regular ramen packets will still exist, but hopefully at a lower capacity so that we can continue to absorb tariff costs.