![]() The rice noodles were spiced with pickled sour mustard leaves (some of which I brought home from a local Burmese market) and mixed with peanuts, garlic, chilli and garnished with shredded chicken. ![]() What arrived was Shan khauk swè – a simple hand-tossed noodle salad served with a side of pickled vegetables and a bowl of clear soup. If I were to eat anything at all, I would have to go with the ‘chef’s choice.’ And I did. ![]() Trying to figure out what was what I quickly realized it was a lost cause altogether. Their laminated one-page menu had the names of the dishes in Burmese, transliterated into English. The slender, fine-boned woman that owned / managed the restaurant did not speak any English. On the first day of my month-long trip across Myanmar, I walked across the insanely crowded road in front of my airbnb accommodation to a tiny restaurant that had all of three tables.
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