Sunday, May 4, 2008Beijing
In China, it’s customary to eat noodles before your birthday because long noodles symbolize longevity in Asian cultures. Knowing that my 48th was coming up on Tuesday, Holly suggested we have lunch at a favorite spot of hers, near the Temple of Heaven, where noodles are a specialty.
And special they were.
While sitting at a square wooden table, we were surrounded by the din of clattering dinnerware. It wasn’t until our meal arrived that I understood why. The server stands next to the table, holding a tray with a large bowl of noodles, along with about six or seven small bowls of beans, greens, and other add-ins. Then, at lightning speed, the server dumps each little bowl’s contents into the noodles, slams the empty bowl under the next little bowl, tosses its contents into the noodles, uses that little bowl to launch the next one off the tray, etc. It’s loud, it’s theatrical, and it’s absolutely divine.
As were the noodles. Warned by Holly that the sauce (served on the side) was pretty salty, I added the thick, dark dressing with little chunks of meat into my big bowl, then followed her lead, slurping the long, slippery noodles out of my chopsticks. Honest to goodness, this was some of the best food I’ve eaten in my life—nothing I’ve had in the States compares.
Next, we shared a bowl of some reddish fruits, slightly larger than crab apples, that tasted somewhat like baked apples with clove and other savory/sweet spices. They were chilled and served with their juices atop a bed of shredded cabbage (which you don’t eat). The flavor was fantastic; if not for the fact we were stuffed to the gills, we would have inhaled the entire bowl.
Yum. Big time.
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