I love drunken noodle. More than should be legal. I mean, I’ve always liked it, but not to the ‘must have multiple times in one week’ degree before. Oh, pregnancy, what can’t you do?
After reading the description in the menu I just ordered from (what do people who live in the country do? How do they get good Thai food delivered), it makes complete sense. I mean, is this not the description of something a pregnant woman would crave?
Drunken noodles were originally stir-fried by a singing drunkard to starve off midnight hunger. Ingredients previously thought to be incompatible were tossed into the wok, and volia! Drunken Noodle! Soft wide rice noodle fried with onion, basil, bell pepper, chili pepper, bamboo, tomato, and string bean. (And tofu, if you’re an Abby)
Plus it’s spicy as all hell. Three hot chili icons spicy. Sprout likes it so hot that it makes my eyes and nose run. I love it so much I dreamt about it last week (I also dreamt I was in a shoebox under the Golden Gate bridge, about to be overturned by a splashing whale, so I guess we take that with a grain of salt). I love it so much I’ve taken to randomly texting Sara while she’s busy at work to inform her that we’re having it again for dinner. And again. I love it so much that I blog about it while waiting for delivery.
I ate drunken noodles a lot when I was pregnant too! Interesting…