Noodles, Perfected.

(Not Really)

Electionyearing. I'm taking a break here to remind myself, and you, that this project is a respite, part of my healthiest ever election year. Without reading, I think was on my way to boil some noodles, which I did, and just did again.

The kitchen is galley like, bigger than the California one, and for two thirds less the buy in, but taxes in New Jersey are significantly higher. Water and sewer are one third the price here. Gas is a dollar a gallon less on the east coast, and in New Jersey they must pump it. Somehow even avocados cost less here, go figure, because they grew them near to where we were living out there.

I by udon packaged by portion at Trader Joes. I call them udon, without reading the box. They are not dry or wet, but easy to prep. I slice open the package and put the folded noodles in a small heavy pot with a glass lid. I cover them with organic vegetable stock, toss in five fresh sliced mushrooms, put the lid on, and that’s that.

I look for the boil, gently mix up the noodles, shut off the stove and put the contents in a glass bowl with a good shot of soy sauce; I sit down with a napkin and slurp my way into noodle heaven.

I feel bad that I do not make my own noodles. I have for years now. The old man in the screenplay will be making them for certain. He will be all that I want to be.

And there it is, respite, and post noodle delight. Not a bit of dialogue added, and no deadline forth coming. I did find the picture I took of the one on the bedroom wall, which I am adding. Thank you, fellow creatives for joining me in this moment of bliss, when we make this movie there will be more than enough noodles for all of us.

Turtle Rising