Happy Noodles
S6 E12: A Gay/December Romance
Will & Grace, 1998.
Here we have an episode of Will & Grace that begins, as many great moral epics do, with noodles.
Grace, flushed with the thrill of discovering a new temple of starch called Happy Noodle, promptly drops a takeout order hotter than the Devil’s own ramen bath onto the floor. Her request for replacement noodles is denied by the proprietor, whose adherence to the radical capitalist concept of “you pay for the food you order” prompts Grace to launch an aggressive personal boycott. Flyers are printed. Friends are sworn to the cause. The phrase “rue the day” is used unironically. It is the Montgomery Bus Boycott of lukewarm grievances.
Meanwhile, Will, attending an art opening, meets Alan — a wealthy, older gentleman with a talent for both charming banter and high-ticket impulse gifting. One moment Will is admiring a painting, the next it’s his, courtesy of Alan’s bottomless bank account. Jack, hunting for his own benefactor, must make do with Bertram, a frugal octogenarian who treats affection like a rationed wartime commodity. Will protests that his relationship with Alan is not a sugar daddy arrangement, even as Alan buys him leather pants, a cowboy hat, and, casually, a horse. Grace calls it like she sees it; Will responds with a blend of denial, horror, and deep subconscious acceptance.
Grace’s boycott falters when she discovers Karen and Jack — supposed allies in this war of principle — gleefully slurping noodles at the very restaurant she is picketing. Betrayal, thy name is broth. Soon after, in the privacy of her office, Grace succumbs to the siren song of buckwheat noodles and floating tempura, declaring the boycott over with all the conviction of a dieter caving to a warm brownie.
Will’s sugar daddy subplot reaches its tragicomic climax when he confronts Alan about “expectations,” only to be informed that Alan’s generosity is platonic — until, of course, Will is replaced by a younger, curvier model named Sebastian, who even inherits Will’s cowboy hat. Will reels from the revelation that he is too old to be a boy toy. Jack reassures him that the bright side is now he can be the wealthy older man in the equation, though his application is politely declined.
It’s an episode about self-delusion and the fragile scaffolding of one’s moral high ground: Grace discovering that no principle is strong enough to withstand noodle lust, and Will realizing that sugar daddy economics run on a cruel cycle of novelty and obsolescence. Both lessons are delivered with the gentle inevitability of sitcom physics: every cause, noble or self-serving, ends with someone sheepishly eating their words, and possibly a large bowl of noodles.