I met up with Kristy last night. She was in Melbourne on business. It’s become a tradition to meet each other in our respective cities when either one of us travels for work.
This new Laksa King has been open a few weeks. It used to be hidden away in a dingy alcove in a shopping centre around the corner from its new home. There’s another Laksa King outlet in the food court of a local mega-mall, but it’s too risky eating there because there’s a high chance I’ll buy something from Cue after my chicken laksa.
We thought the pork belly was the most tender we’d ever tasted, though would have preferred the skin to have been crispier.
My roti was comforting. I love the texture and semi sweetness of roti. I wish it wasn’t so fattening.
In between slurps of noodles, we talked about wildly inappropriate topics that only good friends can get away with talking about. Our conversation was ridiculous at times!
We laughed about just how much food we’d ordered between us, and were delighted that it was so damn cheap. We mused about how we should have worn elasticised pants. Maybe if we had have eaten at the Laksa King in the food court, we could have stopped in a Target afterward to buy ourselves some elasticised pants.