{"id":1742,"date":"2005-06-09T05:49:00","date_gmt":"2005-06-09T05:49:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/06\/09\/drawn-out-days-and-noodle-nights"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:22","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:22","slug":"drawn-out-days-and-noodle-nights","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/06\/drawn-out-days-and-noodle-nights\/","title":{"rendered":"Drawn-out days and noodle nights"},"content":{"rendered":"
Though the topic has already been amply covered by countless wistful love ballads, I\u2019d like to bring something to your attention: the loveliness that is a summer night. Call me a sap\u2014you wouldn\u2019t be the first\u2014but there\u2019s something primordially good about a clear, warm night<\/strong>. Everything thrums\u2014from locusts, the soundtrack of summer, to mosquitoes, the season\u2019s scourge. Even the skin pricks up and hums when warm air rubs softly against it. An icy bottle sheds welcome droplets down the inside of the arm, and the tongue begs for salt, preferably in the form of something cool, slippery, and delivered via chopsticks<\/strong>. Yes, I\u2019ve been eating noodles again<\/a>, redundancy be damned.<\/p>\n Granted, early-summer Seattle is a bit slow to heat up, but the days make up for their thermometric shortcomings by doing double-time on the clock. Sunrise comes at five in the morning, and sunset, in no mood to hurry, follows sixteen hours later. With each day, the light stays a bit longer, as though too lazy to leave<\/strong> at anything but a slow crawl. Such long, drawn-out days make for long, drawn-out evenings, perfect for simple, leisurely cooking and even more leisurely lingering at the table. All of this points inevitably to big bowls of cold noodles<\/strong>\u2014at least until it points inevitably to late-summer tomato bread salads, any number of things involving pesto and fresh figs, and variations on the theme of avocado.<\/p>\n Last week, I slurped down filmy, translucent rice noodles and sang a song of fish sauce, but today I\u2019m trading Southeast Asia for China. In this week\u2019s routine<\/a>, I\u2019ve slicked skinny noodles with sesame oil, soy sauce, and balsamic vinegar, revved them up with hot red pepper oil and soothed them with a good dose of sugar. For a welcome grounding among such high-pitched flavors<\/strong>, there\u2019s a soft hunk of roasted eggplant, a ribbon of blanched snow pea or julienned carrot, or the watery relief of a mung bean sprout. Each chopstickful is salty and sweet, clean and nutty, crisp and yielding. I can\u2019t think of a better way to settle into the rhythm of summer, or to set everything thrumming.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n