Muslim Noodles

Thursday at lunchtime, I was feeling peckish.  My first thought was to go to  KFC to eat french fries with mashed potatoes and gravy -- dipping the fries into the small cup of mashed and gravy is something I like to do because it reminds of my always ordering fries and gravy at KFC's in Canada.

I was all excited by this prospect till I looked in my wallet.  I had little money.  If I blew my wad at lunchtime, I would have nothing for supper.  And it was my longest day of the week at the school.  I realized I had to find a cheaper option.  I thought of the rice shop down the street which served cheap food but it was so unappetizing -- no way could it fill the spot like fries and mashed potatoes and gravy.  

So then I thought of the Muslim Noodle place nearby.  I hadn't been there in a while.  I could really go for a bowl of their fried noodles -- Chow Mian Pian -- I think it was called.  But I felt reluctant because the place wasn't so clean, and I would have to wait, and be stared at by the other customers and staff.

What the hell!  I thought and I went.

I tried ordering Chow Mian Pian, but the man working there told me in Chinese, that I could understand a little of, that that dish couldn't be done.  So, I went to a big picture menu posted on the wall and pointed at a photo of eggs, tomatoes, and noodles.  That could be made was what they indicated to me.  And they ushered me to a chair to wait.

While waiting, I observed the following:  Authorities looking at the contents of some one's cart -- apparently they don't want people with carts trying to sell things downtown.  Fifty uniformed students walking two abreast.  A hunch-backed man working in the Muslim Restaurant.

I ordered the food for take-out (I say something like "da-bao" to have this done) and ate it back at school.  It hit the spot.