M loved the deep fried squids so much that we went back to Warung Parahyangan for dinner the next day.
Our dinners in Bali tended to be late ones as we used to wake up late, have a heavy breakfast, laze around a lot, doze off, have late lunches, early evening coffees.
We walked in around 10pm, to a relatively quiet and diner-free warung that was so lively during the day.
Ordered the fried squid, added a whole fish grilled with Balinese spices, repeated the chicken with mushroom and the steamed rice.

The squid was salt laden, over fried to the point of being bitter. The lovely golden colour of the morning was gone and was replaced by deep unappetising ochre.
The fish had a charred appearance with a lot of lemongrass and chilli paste.
The chicken was tough and flavourless.
We were wondering how could there be such change within the same day. That is when I ventured into the same kitchen to find all the ladies were gone. The menfolk had taken over the cooking and had obviously messed up. Lesson learned. Not to go to a warung late at night.
But we are the warung warriors. So next day we walked into another warung, albeit for lunch. One with no name. One where we found out no one speaks English. Two women manning a single stove. One burly man sitting quietly and smoking.

A glass case half filled with cooked food of all ilk. M immediately went about befriending the women. Soon, they were calling out each other's names, for no rhyme or reason.
We pointed out what we wanted to eat.
Some fried fish, some egg in a light gravy, some eggplants simple cooked, some chicken, some tofu. And steamed rice.
While the food was nothing extraordinary, it was very satisfying.
The eggplant dish was a simple stew with a little onion and ginger. The egg was cooked minimally with chilli and onion.
The ubiquitous lemongrass was missing.
The fish was crisp fried.
The rice warm.
The warung owners friendly, talkative and helpful without speaking much English.
Food, after all, needs no other language.