so i’m trying to locate this new noodle place, china lanzhou noodle, where i’m to meet sampaafulhu, who’s recently returned from a trip, and nadheemadhi for dinner. it’s near hai fishing when you go towards bombay darbar on nirolhu magu, hulhumale. not an easy find despite it having a huge ass sign.

samfa and nadhee are already hungry when i arrive.

‘quick, order something,’ says samfa.

‘and hello to you too,’ i say. i have to squeeze into the booth, given my girth, and the gals giggle.

the menu is a single laminated page, and i really have no idea what’s going on. and everything is over 150MVR. dear god. i choose something that i think is a fried noodles and ask the others what they’ve been up to in hm.

‘not much, just babysitting aisaanike,’ says samfa. ‘she really likes the harry potter gift i got her.’

‘is she reading harry potter now?’ asks nadheemadhi.

‘she’s obsessed. she still remembers that the two feathers of fawkes are in harry’s and voldemort’s wands. and i told her that a very long time ago.’

‘that kid will be the death of us,’ i say.

‘but her mum isn’t letting her watch past the fourth film because of all the death and adult stuff.’

‘ah,’ says nadheemadhi and turns to me. ‘by the way, where’s abdurrahman? didn’t you invite him?’

‘he’s on his way.’

‘did you get a gift from your wife?’

‘the best ever,’ i tell her.

‘what is it?’

‘a book.’

‘that’s it?’

‘it’s a very special and expensive book, tell her husenfulhu,’ says samfa. ‘oh, here’s the food.’

they are quick, these people. nadheemadhi’s got soupy noodles in a red broth where as samfa’s noodles are fried.
nadhee takes a bite and makes a face.

‘no good huh?’ i ask.

‘there’s something weird about the broth. i like the noodles though.’

‘what about you, samfa?’

‘i don’t think this is worth 150 rufiyaa – you can have the same for half the price at a kaanivaa kada’ says samfa. ‘tell abdu not to come.’

i have some of my noodles: it’s in a clear broth with a sprinkling of spring onions.

‘it’s not bad,’ i say. ‘i actually like it. but yeah, not worth the price.’

‘hey people,’ says someone.

‘abdu! please don’t order. just eat what’s left of ours!’ exclaims samfa.

abdu has a taste of samfa’s noodles.

‘it’s like a tomato sauce noodlesgandu you cook on a dhathuru,’ he says. samfa snorts.

‘try mine,’ i say and he has some.

‘this isn’t bad actually, kind of reminds me of the chicken soup they give you when you’re ill.’

huh, how about that?

‘what about mine?’ asks nadheemadhi.

‘i don’t know specifically what’s wrong with it but i can tell you it’s not right at all,’ says abdu.

‘and there’s the review,’ i tell them.

‘i just came to give you the soundbites,’ laughs abdu.

the bill is 467MVR for the lot.

‘this is the second time this week that i’ve been fleeced eating out,’ says nadheemadhi.

‘well, this is what it means to review,’ i say. ‘we’ve taken a bullet for society.’

so be warned, dear readers.