Food frenzy

Genetics can be a wonderful thing. There are those traits we inherit that make us realize how fortunate we are. Thanks to my mother, I can carry a tune, for example. Plus, I’m not sure which side of the family I should thank about the fact that I never had to endure braces. Being 13 was awkward enough; at least my teeth were straight. However, there are those traits that we could live without. Namely, thanks to my mother, I have one serious flaw: I do not cope well when I’m hungry.

There was the time, working in Kentucky, that I began to get extremely snippy with a customer around lunch time and physically had to remove myself before I ended up saying something that I’d regret. I was actually being genuinely mean to a woman who was not only old enough to be my mother, but was doing absolutely nothing wrong. “One Subway sandwich, please,” and I was back to normal. There was also the time, more recently, that I completely snapped at Shira in Phnom Penh, Cambodia for no other reason than we hadn’t eaten a real lunch. I literally stopped walking in the middle of a busy intersection, threw down my arms, and snapped. I think my head might have spun around three times too, but that might just be my memory taking creative liberties. The point is: one quick stop at a noodle shop later and I was back to my cheerful self.

It’s a very, very good thing, then, that in Thailand I am rarely (read: never) hungry. The question I get most from family and friends is “how is the food?” so let me tell you: I am living a foodie’s dream. If you are under the impression that Thailand is a country where the air smells consistently like mouth-watering Pad Thai, you can’t walk two blocks without being offered a fresh fruit shake, mango sticky rice, or a homemade spicy papaya salad – I want to set the record straight: you are absolutely right. That is an entirely accurate depiction of this country. The other night, I went out to hit the ATM at a nearby road and ended up sampling stir-fried morning glory, made insanely spicy and insanely wonderful. I’d been down that street a few times, but apparently never around dinner time – when small stalls pop up and everyone is stir-frying, blending, or deep-frying something delicious. In a way, I guess, it’s a bit like the food trucks at lunch time in downtown D.C., but a thousand times less pretentious and cheaper. I wonder if I could get them to Tweet their locations…. Either way: I’ve “mmed” my way through colorful curries, eaten my body weight in Tom Yum Soup, and tried something wrapped in a banana leaf that was delicious, and still has yet to be identified. Oh, and the prices. How can you turn down the made-on-the-spot roti when it’s about 50 cents and filled with bananas and chocolate? You can’t, you wouldn’t, I promise.

So even though there are, of course, pizza places every once in a while, even falafel to appeal to the Israeli crowd, I’d rather overdose on Thai food for now. In fact, I went to trivia at an Irish pub the other night with friends (that’s right: friends. I threw that word in just to brag a bit) and came to the realization that fish ‘n chips will always be just fish ‘n chips. I’d choose a spicy curry any day and be content with the fact that overpriced, bland, food will still be there in a couple of months.