For years I have adored hand-pulled Chinese noodles–how water and flour and a little magic in the hands of a master can become a tasty food.  Many years ago a student of mine and I even went so far as to “intern” for a few months at a noodle shop in Beijing.

Last weekend in Shanghai a friend took me to a nice hotpot restaurant in Shanghai.  At the end of the meal a young guy in a white shirt with a bandanna wrapped around his head came out with a lump of dough.  After a performance lasting less than a minute he stretched it into a single long nooodle which he then broke in to pieces and tossed into our soup. It tasted so good we promptly ordered a second one.

“Don’t play with your food.”

Yeah, whatever.