Last night we went to a little restaurant a few blocks from the school. From the Arabic on the sign, and the lack of pork on the menu, it’s probably a Muslim place. (This is always reassuring to me because they tend to have really clean kitchens, something that is not always part of the local-noodle-shop experience.)
Stick and I passed it during the day, and we brought Christina back there for dinner. At night, they set up those white plastic tables and chairs, and they have a keg. Yeah, a keg of cold beer. In China. Did I mention it was cold? We ordered three random styles of noodles. Mine was pretty good but as we sat there, we saw waiters bringing out other things that looked even better: other noodles, and fried rice, and peanuts, and some kind of kebabs. We’ll probably be back tonight or tomorrow — I’d say it’s to try some of the other dishes, but it’s really for the beer.
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