It always rolls back to food.
Since being on the East Coast all these past months, I've become obsessed with fire and noodles. I've been whipping up homemade chili oil by the half gallon on dousing it on everything. I've been salivating over this coconut curry I dreamt up - it has about 40 ingredients, yet its the simplest thing in the world to make and slurps down like nobodies business. I've become addicted to fiery dan dan noodles that are once again, a piece of cake to put on the table.
I think I can blame the dan dan for the noodle freak out. It started there, then led to a small storefront in Chinatown where they hand twirl fat batches of noodles by the truckload. I craved their cumin scented chew days and days after I first tried them. I told everyone about them. I tried to recreate them...and ending up concocting noodles far superior, if you can imagine.
Asian markets were hit up. I made noodles for the office crew every coupla o days, to the great delight of all. Now, after sinking into noodle world for a few months, I've not seen the magical captivation subside. Instead, it's only grown. My cooking skills have reached a new level due to a fantastic wok purchase. Spices - herbs - ideas - books - magazines - Asian greens - blissful research - all about noodles, food, fire marches on. New trips are being planned around all these damn noodles. They just call my name, night day.
I love them. Every chopstick twirl of them.
Oh, and PS - I'm back West in 6 weeks. It'll fly and I simply cannot wait.