Four Noodles, One Song—The Damenzu War | #ThreeDialogueStories
The four of us were at the school cafeteria. The members were a guy from the "island nation within an island nation," a guy from the "boot-shaped country," a Nagoya native, and me. Our cultural backgrounds are always clashing.
Whenever we talk about this, the lunch break for these stern-faced men drags on. In Japan, talking about noodles is a religious war.
We gather after a long break, exchange souvenirs, and eat.
The Italian has short pasta, the Kagawa native has scraps of udon, and the Nagoya native has chicken wings and wide, flat kishimen noodles.
If you boil pasta the wrong way in front of an Italian, they will genuinely get angry. If you were to snap long pasta in half before boiling it despite having plenty of water ready, it goes without saying what would happen.
Let alone if they ever found out about Napolitan, which was born in Japan—.
If you were to compare the scale of that anger to Japanese cafe culture, it would be as big a deal as a clerk saying, "Short... no, make that a Grande size."
It's close to the dangerous act of serving thin noodles like Inaniwa udon to a Kagawa native
and calling it "Sanuki udon."
Also, while they might complain about water shortages in the summer and talk about the water levels of the Sameura Dam, the only time I might actually see eye-to-eye with an Italian is if someone said, "You complain about water, but you boil udon in a huge pot of water, don't you?"
While I was thinking about that, right in front of me,
the Italian and the Kagawa native were throwing sparks at each other over the "supreme noodle."
The Italian puffed out his chest.
"If it's short pasta, penne is the best.
When friends gather in the middle of the night, I always make Penne all'Arrabbiata. Even if there's nothing in the fridge, as long as you have penne, life opens up!"
The Kagawa native retorted, refusing to lose.
"The chewiness of udon beats everything.
Even the 'scraps' of udon or the end pieces are supreme. Even the ends are delicious. You don't need weird seasoning.
Simple seasoning is better. The broth is also delicious. Your short pasta is too focused on the shape, like cat ears or seashells."
The Italian pressed on.
"The dried noodles I got as a souvenir were too salty.
Nobody cares about the amount of water, right?"
Watching the two of them, I gnawed on a burdock root.
I dare not eat ramen in front of them.
I can't say a word about boiling times.
The obsession behind such a fruitless argument
was completely lost on me.
I just scoffed, thinking they were being difficult.
The Nagoya native, who had been silent until now, finished his ankake pasta, returned his plate first, and called out to the two of them.
"Nagoya food is the best! You guys only care about boiling times! The sauce clings so well to overboiled noodles lololol"
The Nagoya native doubled over laughing.
A grassy plain spread out.
The Italian shouted.
"That is not pasta! Kishimen would be better!"
The Kagawa native didn't lose either.
"That has no chewiness!"
The anger of the two approached at a Grande size,
and the Nagoya native instinctively shrugged.
"Sorry for... breaking the flow of the conversation."
Watching those guys making a fuss over such things,
I, a local, muttered.
"This is Fukuoka. Eat some soft burdock tempura udon."
Nobody would eat the burdock tempura udon.
Dialogue
"Short... no, make that a Grande size."
■ Three Topics
・Grassy plain
・Return
・Penne
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