I don’t write much about this sort of thing, but I couldn’t resist. Last night Steve and I made the best bowl of beef noodle soup ever pulled together from sheer leftovers. Truly, today marks the climax of our culinary genius. In the soup alone there was rice wine, sugar, garlic, soysauce, awesome chinese star spice, cinnamon, hot sauce, other secret seasonings and loads of beef fat. We’re just a bunch of kids in the kitchen really, but I guess that just proves the superiority of Chinese food. After we finished the noodles, we sat in front of our bowls for a good while just picking out the beef pieces left in the soup. Steve said it was like the gift that keeps on giving. After he had finished washing his bowl I was still at it.
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On a separate and more random note, I have decided that memory is like an unreliable friend. When we need it, it cannot be found. When we we’re sick of it, it won’t got away. Frustration ensues.
that beef noodle soup is making me hungry! I like your memory comparison to an unreliable friend, it is so true. Usually when you finally find it, it’s too late.
dude you say memory is a bad friend cause you dont have a good one. If you had my memory, you would prob call it your GIRLFRIEND! hahahhaah. jk. not really. peace