Noodles and Gambling – NJ
People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, people who can’t sing shouldn’t claim they have a god-given talent, and poor people who can’t gamble should stay quietly at home instead of hanging out at casinos. Unfortunately, I fall into the latter category and although I never win, except once at slots in the Bahamas, I love to gamble. It’s so scarily fun in a sick addicting way. That’s why a week ago, I found myself at the roulette table in Atlantic City getting a serious case of vertigo.
I was, however, able to pull myself away for an hour to fill my diet-coke filled belly with some food. David’s friend, James, suggested we get some Chinese noodles at The Rim in the Taj Mahal, and I happily agreed. It’s very rare I ever turn down Chinese food. Unfortunately, the noodles didn’t quite live up to my expectations.
I ordered the Roast Duck Noodle Soup ($16) with ho fun (wide rice noodles). The dish looked gorgeous when it came out; filled with richly dark duck and crystal clear broth. However, when I took a bite, I learned just like the casinos, the beauty was all a façade. The duck was tender enough, and the portion was generous, but the seasoning was completely off. The roast duck was incredibly salty. The soup was also overly salty with a haunting flavor of old fried shallots, and oddly, besides the taste of salt and shallots, the soup was flavorless. In addition, my noodles were all stuck together in short solid clumps. Everyone else, though, seemed to enjoy their dishes. David and James got Stir-Fried Sesame Chicken, which they both finished to the last morsel, and Tina said her Pho was fine. Perhaps I just have bad luck at casinos, even when it comes to food.
After the noodles, I went back to the roulette table and lost $120 in thirty minutes flat. Of course, I blamed the “bad-luck noodles,” which probably reveals how much of a sore loser I am. So kids, don’t be like me. Save your money and go eat Shredded Duck Noodle Soup at Hing Won in Midtown instead of gambling your life away and eating bad noodles. Strangely enough, Midtown is sometimes better. And by the way, I’m leaving for Las Vegas in a few weeks. Oy vey.