The Noodle that Hides the Chinese Restaurant

This was the last stage in the Finnzy-Bob birthfestival (why call it a birthday when it is an event spread over several days?) 
The Chinese-not-far-from-the-Spire-with-the-noodles-to-die for. Or die of, if in my case you eat your massive bowl and then proceed to finish the leftover noodles that had defeated the kids at the bottom of their own bowls. 
And then we remembered that it wasn't really the last stage but the penultimate station of the birthfestival. Because there was still the pavlova to be baked and eaten with Pepe after the candles were blown off (on the pavlova, not on Pepe) and the birthday song was sung. Again. 
But the meringue failed, because of the new oven with the overoptimistic temperature dial. It went back into the oven. And failed again. And back in the oven one last time for another 20 minutes at 180. And it failed again. 
There were some profiteroles. But no candles stuck in them. And no birthday song sung. Again. 
So the Chinese noodles were the last part of the birthfestival. And the birthday boy wasn't too traumatised. 
He did enjoy his festival.