Like a tentacled Cthulhu horror having its way with your mouth
Udon is a thick, wheat-based noodle. It's also the name of a Japanese food movie detailing a failed-comic-turned-journalist's adventure in hunting down all the udon stalls in rural Japan and creating the ultimate udon guide. Of course along he way he resuscitate a flagging magazine, come to terms with his father and his udon legacy, and finds true love.
I was a fan of udon but not to the point of fixation. But being me, I began obsessing over udon after the movie. Except udon isn't very popular outside of Japan, certainly not the same popularity that its sibling ramen enjoys.
I like the idea of udon, its simplicity. It's usually served with a mild soup base, thinly chopped shallots, fried tofu, and maybe a raw egg.
(Of course that looks very much like the antithesis of my picture.)
I enjoy the eating of it: Base of the bowl nesting on the ball of your palm, fingers cradling it as you bring it up to your face mouth, take in a waft of the soups' mild scent as it mingles with the shallots, plunge your chopsticks into the raw egg, swirl, pinch some noodles making sure some of the raw egg white and yolk gets dragged along, lift it up to your mouth. Slurp.
You have to slurp. Of course don't burn your mouth, but please, slurp. Slurp in the loudest, rudest noise that would shame your parents, slurp with a gusto that sucks the smooth slippery gooey noodles into your mouth flicking soup all around. To someone sitting across, you should look like a tentacled Cthulhu horror is having its way with your mouth.
Today's lunch is a variation of bah kut teh (pork ribs in herb tea soup) in udon. Nothing of what I wrote before applies except for the slurping bit. This is what happens when you cook for one person as tonitonitone can attest with her pot of curry. This is the last of the three meals I got out of the big pot of soup.
But it won't be the last we see of udon!
I was a fan of udon but not to the point of fixation. But being me, I began obsessing over udon after the movie. Except udon isn't very popular outside of Japan, certainly not the same popularity that its sibling ramen enjoys.
I like the idea of udon, its simplicity. It's usually served with a mild soup base, thinly chopped shallots, fried tofu, and maybe a raw egg.
(Of course that looks very much like the antithesis of my picture.)
I enjoy the eating of it: Base of the bowl nesting on the ball of your palm, fingers cradling it as you bring it up to your face mouth, take in a waft of the soups' mild scent as it mingles with the shallots, plunge your chopsticks into the raw egg, swirl, pinch some noodles making sure some of the raw egg white and yolk gets dragged along, lift it up to your mouth. Slurp.
You have to slurp. Of course don't burn your mouth, but please, slurp. Slurp in the loudest, rudest noise that would shame your parents, slurp with a gusto that sucks the smooth slippery gooey noodles into your mouth flicking soup all around. To someone sitting across, you should look like a tentacled Cthulhu horror is having its way with your mouth.
Today's lunch is a variation of bah kut teh (pork ribs in herb tea soup) in udon. Nothing of what I wrote before applies except for the slurping bit. This is what happens when you cook for one person as tonitonitone can attest with her pot of curry. This is the last of the three meals I got out of the big pot of soup.
But it won't be the last we see of udon!