Nooden

6 Jan

In Thai, when a word ends in an ‘l’ sound, you say ‘n’.  Don’t ask me deep questions why.  You just do.  Hence nooden…a word that I’m pretty sure will stay in our family lexicon until the end of time (much like nuppa, my baby brother Ed’s word for milk which we still use, and calling one of my sisters ‘dra dra’ which I mostly only do on her answering machine).

I don’t like chow mein.  For a long time I assumed, because of this dislike, that I didn’t like Asian noodles in general.  This is not true.  I dislike Japanese udon because they are like worms.  Maggoty gross worms to be precise.  But I love all other Japanese noodles and many varieties of southeast Asian rice noodles too.

I ate herebeijing-noodle-no-9-interior at Beijing Noodle something something in Las Vegas and nearly swooned with the amazing broth.  Then the Hubby and I watched this great PBS show called Mind of a Chef with David Chang from Momofuko restaurant who I’ve been mildly in love with for like the past five years.  There’s a whole lot that goes into amazing ramen broth, that’s pretty much the takeaway from the first ten episodes of the show.

Anyway…nooden are a big part of the food life of our family since the boys and the Hubs think they are Asian and eat them for breakfast or lunch or dinner.  Nueng introduced me to some great dried ramen type, just thinner, from Thailand with a nice spicy kick.  We found more at our local Asian grocery so now the house is nicely stocked.

I think that covers my noodle thoughts for today.  The best Italian nooden I have ever eaten were hollow spaghetti (I can’t think of their real name) at a restaurant in Nairobi, Kenya.  Crazy eh?  Best red sauce though? Hands down a little something something whipped up by a man from Naples in his north London flat for me.  Evil delicious.

Nooden.  It’s what’s for dinner.

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