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A review by allisonplus
On the Noodle Road: From Beijing to Rome, with Love and Pasta by Jen Lin-Liu
3.0
"'You're leaving?' a neighbor called out. 'Yilu shun feng.' The Phrase is usually rendered as 'Have a good journey,' but the literal translation is more poetic: 'Let the wind move you on the road.'"
"Every family pickled their own vegetables and made their own preserves. She brought in a jar from the balcony and opened it, handing me one of her pickles, which was crisp and just sour enough to make me reach for another. She dropped a spoonful of berry preserves into my tea, which enlivened it with the flavour of summer. 'Right now, at my university, the most popular topic of conversation is, 'What did you conserve?' she said.
"Communism had made women as education and gainfully employed as men."
"We got closer and stumbled into an enormous bazaar. The aisles were filled with the most beautiful produce I'd ever seen. Cashews, almonds, and pistachios were carefully arranged in plastic tubes that formed geometrical patterns like the decorative tiles on the facades of mosques. Pristine pears, greenish-red like autumn leaves, formed cylindrical towers. Split pomegranates hung on wooden posts, their pink pearls spilling out of the peel. Even ordinary staples like eggs looked alluring, the white oval arrayed in perfect squares. Vendors polished tomatoes and lemons. In an aisle full of salads, sellers rapidly chopped purple, yellow, and orange carrots into sticks and shreds behind colorful heaps of jade cabbage and magenta beets."
"All I could do was cringe and wish her the best. Another thing you could find across cultures besides fried chicken and burgers, I thought, was women who fell for the wrong men."
"The intense sweets included fried balls of dough basted in thick honey to chewy squares of Turkish delight dusted with powdered sugar and infused with different fruits or exotic flavorings, such as mastic, a tree sap that tasted like earthy spearmint. And there were heavenly slices of flaky baklava crammed with pistachios and drenched in syrup, in a shop that smelled of warm butter."
"Every family pickled their own vegetables and made their own preserves. She brought in a jar from the balcony and opened it, handing me one of her pickles, which was crisp and just sour enough to make me reach for another. She dropped a spoonful of berry preserves into my tea, which enlivened it with the flavour of summer. 'Right now, at my university, the most popular topic of conversation is, 'What did you conserve?' she said.
"Communism had made women as education and gainfully employed as men."
"We got closer and stumbled into an enormous bazaar. The aisles were filled with the most beautiful produce I'd ever seen. Cashews, almonds, and pistachios were carefully arranged in plastic tubes that formed geometrical patterns like the decorative tiles on the facades of mosques. Pristine pears, greenish-red like autumn leaves, formed cylindrical towers. Split pomegranates hung on wooden posts, their pink pearls spilling out of the peel. Even ordinary staples like eggs looked alluring, the white oval arrayed in perfect squares. Vendors polished tomatoes and lemons. In an aisle full of salads, sellers rapidly chopped purple, yellow, and orange carrots into sticks and shreds behind colorful heaps of jade cabbage and magenta beets."
"All I could do was cringe and wish her the best. Another thing you could find across cultures besides fried chicken and burgers, I thought, was women who fell for the wrong men."
"The intense sweets included fried balls of dough basted in thick honey to chewy squares of Turkish delight dusted with powdered sugar and infused with different fruits or exotic flavorings, such as mastic, a tree sap that tasted like earthy spearmint. And there were heavenly slices of flaky baklava crammed with pistachios and drenched in syrup, in a shop that smelled of warm butter."