They went down from the hotel room and out onto the streets of Liberfell, walking without much direction for a bit.
“Do you like Kiromon cooking?” asked Mizuki.
“I can’t say I’ve had it much,” said Hannah.
“Noodle shop,” said Mizuki, pointing. “I’ve been there before, it’s very
good, but
Hannah wasn’t sure she did. “Well, we can give it a try,” she nodded. “I’ve liked what you’ve made, so far.”
They went into the shop together and quickly found a table. It was off hours, and the place was quiet. There were little glass bottles with long necks sitting on the table, one of them clear and the other a dark brown. The menu, such as it was, was written up on a board on one wall, in chalks of three different colors, though there were only six things they seemed to make, most of which were the same noodle soup with some variants. Before too long, a woman came over to them.
“Your order?” she asked, without a trace of pleasantries.
“Spring noodles,” said Mizuki, giving her a smile.
“For me too, ay,” said Hannah.
“Oh, and a bottle of wine to share,” said Mizuki. “And a plate of sobyu.”
The woman nodded, then went into the kitchen, which was visible from their table over a short wall. As Hannah watched, a girl about their age climbed up a small ladder and stood on a long wooden arm of some sort, which slowly lowered as she stood on it. She was gripping a pole bolted to the wall and had clearly done this many times before.
“What’s that?” asked Hannah, pointing.
“Noodles,” said Mizuki. “The dough gets pressed through a little thing
with holes in it and drops right down into boiling water. I’ve tried for
“How do you make them at home?” asked Hannah. “I don’t recall seein’ such a thing.”
Once the girl had lowered to near the floor, she hopped off and picked up a giant wire mesh net, which she used to do something that was just barely out of Hannah’s sight, but the sound of water splashing around could soon be heard.
“I have the equipment to make it for a small batch,” said Mizuki. “This is just the kind of thing you need for a big kitchen. But yes, part of it is getting the dough through the holes. I’ve always been terrible with dough and baking in general.”
“Seems like the sort of thing I can help with,” said Hannah with a nod. “I love to bake, far more than I enjoy puttin’ together a meal, though I can do that too if you ever need a day off cookin’. I can’t say that I’ve much experience with noodles, but I have quite a bit with doughs, and it can’t be that difficult.”
“Please don’t let them hear you say that,” said Mizuki. “These people are masters of their craft.”
Hannah hadn’t meant it like
It took a surprisingly short time for the noodle dishes to come out. The noodles were thin and brown, twisted up into a ball, with a number of things finely sliced and placed on top, along with an upside-down half of a soft-boiled egg. There were more colors than Hannah had expected, especially the broth, which was a purple-pink.
“It’s a beetroot sobyu broth,” said the woman as she laid the noodles down. “Topped with pear, pork slices, cucumber, and egg.” She lay a small pot down next to them. “Mustard, to stir in.” She pointed at the two bottles. “Vinegar halfway through, to change the taste.” She didn’t say which of the two bottles, but she likely meant the clear one. The sobyu plate was set down next to them without comment. It had nine small piles of various colors, each something pickled, with a focus on color.
Hannah dug in with the long two-tined fork she’d been given, twisting up noodles and trying to get as much as she could from each bite.
“The sobyu is for both of us,” said Mizuki, gesturing at the plate she’d ordered. “Best in little bites, with some noodles. Different from the kind I make, but still, you know, sobyu.” She filled her wineglass and drank it down, a little faster than Hannah thought appropriate, but then again, it had been a long day.
