Honestly, I don't see the point of "medium spicy" noodles. I mean, might as well grab cup noodles from a 7-11 shelf, right? "Just add hot water."
If you really want spicy, commit yourself to the challenge.
I like my noodles so spicy, each mouthful grinds a million excruciating pinpricks into my palate. I want my bowl of noodles to make me sweat like I'm in a sauna. I want the soup to burn my throat. I want my spicy noodles to make me werq.
 |
| Death |
My favourite spicy noodle comes from a greasy, little dive on Stanley Street. Nobody speaks English. It's intense. The tables are shared - that's fine. But space is so tight, you literally need to eat with your elbows clipped to your ribcage whilst your butt is in danger of falling off a rickety stool.
Thank goodness for delivery. My colleague, Kris, who is addicted to Marc Jacobs, helps me order "maximum spicy" beef noodles at least once a week. I like mine with two kinds of mushrooms.
The broth is so muddy, it almost looks like gravy. But one spoonful and you realize that the muddiness is because the soup contains an indeterminate amount of unspecified spicy ingredients... It's mysterious. But why engage with spice at all if you haven't got a sense of adventure?
Say grace before you dive into this bowl of noodles. It's so spicy, you just might die.
With Affection,
James
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