I believe this locale is a popular one with the Ferang (that’s what the Thai’s call us Westerners). I arrive and sure enough, I’m the only one in the whole establishment – just me hanging out with the owner and his family. I grab a table for one, and the little Thai boy quickly brings me a menu. I give it a once over and realize that this place must be popular for the Ferang because the menu is in Thai with English subtext. I also notice, for the first time since I’ve been here, Pad-Thai on the menu. Or, at least the first time I’ve been able to read it for myself. Score! I order the pad-thai, but per my usual stateside habits, I ask for mine with chicken, not prawns. I haven’t ventured over to the seafood side of Thailand life – I mean I’ve barely introduced fresh fruit into my diet. Give a Ferang and his digestive track a minute to get accustomed to the new culture & bacteria.
Shortly thereafter, while still engrossed in my novel, my food arrives. Let me tell you – this was no pad-thai I’ve ever ordered in the states. For starters, the meal comes with egg. I’m not talking scrambled and littered in throughout the noodles. No, no – this meal had an entire omelet right on top of all the noodles. Under this bed of poultry producing paradise, lays chicken pad-thai I’ve been waiting for my whole life! I had finally made it back to the mother ship. I was determined to find out if it was as good as the delicious-ness at Duck Walk, or … dare I say, better? The anticipation was killing me. I began cutting up the omelet, but not too quickly, as I am still the only customer in the restaurant and all eyes were on me. As I began to cut up the omelet, I notice the pad-thai noodles underneath. In all my pad-thai ordering days, I had never seen noodles like this before. The best way to describe the appearance of these noodles was rectangular with rounded edges, with the same appearance as raw chicken flesh. For a brief moment, I was sure my order had been screwed up. Had I received someone else’s dish? Nope, couldn’t be – I’m still the only customer in the joint. Then I thought, maybe my chicken wasn’t cooked all the way. Only to discover, there intertwined with my noodles and omelet, hearty pieces of chicken; fully cooked and ready to eat. Turns out these rectangular looking pieces of poultry flesh are the authentic pad-thai noodle. Not being one to judge on appearance alone, I decide to continue cutting and mixing up my dish of authenticity. After all, maybe it tastes better than it looks. I add some spices, some egg sauce, but to my dismay, there is no peanut sauce. That’s alright; I’ll manage without this time. I finish preparing my meal, and I’m getting ready for my first bite of authentic pad-thai with chicken. My tastes buds were watering, but I was apprehensive at the same time. My twenty-six years of pad-thai eating experience were culminating in this one meal.
I TAKE MY FIRST BITE!
I felt the texture of the noodles and instantly wanted to vomit. The noodles felt and tasted exactly as they look – like raw chicken flesh warmed up. The texture was enough to make me want to stop eating and vomit in my lap. Instead, I took a sip of my water and quickly motioned for the waiter to re-fill my glass. I paused for a moment and contemplated how I was going to make it through the rest of this meal. Water would help, but I needed a back-up plan. I quickly decided that my best bet was pulling the noodles apart as much as possible and interlacing them throughout the omelet portion of the meal. More egg and fewer noodles with each bite. I continued my own personal battle with this let down of a meal; convincing myself the whole time that it isn’t as bad as it seems. No, it was worse! Thanks to years of sitting at the dinner table with my father and his bad bachelor days of cooking, I choked down this meal no problem. Finally, it was over. This was definitely a case where the re-make is better than the original.
1 point for Duck Walk
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