Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. “Do you hear that?” asked Sean Roberts , an expert on Uighur culture and politics and our dining companion for the day. “They’re making the lagman.”
As if inspired by the image of a pizza-maker spinning dough on his finger like a basketball and tossing it in the air, lagman-makers have a similar choreography that includes a deep swing, a flip and a smack of the thick braid of noodles. But unlike pizza dough, lagman have escaped mass production; they are handmade by definition. A bowl of lagman noodles – which are as fat and chewy as udon at certain points and as thin as spaghetti at others – is full of surprises. The generous topping of sautéed finely chopped lamb and fresh red and green peppers that came with the suyru lagman (guyru lagman comes with a more chunky variety of the same ragout) was a delicious and spicy change of pace from the milder Turkish palate.
“This is a good lagman. I’m sweating,” said Roberts.
The rest of this previously featured review can be found on CulinaryBackstreets.com, here .