A noodle cart in Manila, Monday

[lovemykilt]

After a brief stint in a drunk tank in Kuala Lumpur -- he really was going to have to learn how to shut his mouth instead of antagonizing the local police force before he ended up facing off against a cop much less inclined to humor an irritating American -- Priestly had made it to the Philippines.

Manila, he decided, was made of awesome.

He was currently arguing with a man running one of the noodle carts that peppered the streets, trying to talk him into giving a punk (literally) kid from the States an under the table job dishing out glass noodles to tourists. Apparently, the guy wasn't going to make any decisions until he'd talked to the owner -- who lived in the States.

Priestly was beginning to wonder if he maybe should have stuck to Tex Mex in Austin.

[ooc: The sporadic installments of Priestly's international culinary adventure continue! Open for phone calls and such, unless any other character is likely to be hanging out in Manila right now.]

Comments

[heromaniac]

"Glass noodles, glass noodles, glass noodles," Momoko chanted as she tapped her forehead and tried to think of what he was talking abo... Oh! "Harusame! Uhm... Thin and kind of see-through grey-ish? and maybe a bit gloopier than Italian pasta?"

[lovemykilt]

"Kinda sticky? But, like, lightweight, too. I think it's made from rice."

[heromaniac]

"I don't recognize it; there are a lot noodles made from rice so that totally doesn't help. Harusame is made from potato."

"You should ask that guy if he makes his own, though. If he doesn't, you're totally not getting the best and you should move on. The broth is important, but the noodles totally make the dish."

[lovemykilt]

"Huh." Priestly looked up. "Grody, you make these noodles yourself?"

"Go away!"

"I might need to move on, anyway. There's sure to be nicer noodle cart dudes around here, somewhere."