Bangkok is possibly the most stepped-in-concrete-est city on the planet. I do not understand it, but, here, people step in wet cement and then just keep right on going. For me, I think I'd realize that I've stepped in wet, still unset concrete, and then turn back. No. These people cruise right on through with seemingly great frequency. Even dogs get in on the action (see pic). I'm not sure how that translates to the food, but I do know that this is one of my favorite places to eat on this hot, steamin' earth. Bangkok is my Vegas. Its got the food, the ladies, the climate, and just the right amount of unpredictability.
This past week we caught up on all the things we missed several months ago. We got lost shopping for a compass in Chinatown, we took a boat up the Chaopraya to Trader Vic's for 2 for 1 Mai Tais, Zombies, and Suffering Bastards (Good times, Angele), we rode the pleasant but deserted new subway, we watched a cobra milking at the Queen Saovabha Memorial Institute snake farm, and we clapped through an hour of one of the best bad transvestite revue shows ever at Mambo Cabaret.
Once again, we've found that Bangkokites love some hot food. I thought I was pretty well advanced in the chili arts, but this place knocks me on my ass. There was not one day out of seven that did not include bouts of extreme spicy discomfort. It feels like there's a chemical burn at the base of my tongue. Ice doesn't help. Alcohol doesn't help. Nothing does. Soda just makes it worse with all those popping bubbles poking open sores instead of soothing them. I wonder if they put chilis in baby food. If they do, I want to live here even more.
This past week we caught up on all the things we missed several months ago. We got lost shopping for a compass in Chinatown, we took a boat up the Chaopraya to Trader Vic's for 2 for 1 Mai Tais, Zombies, and Suffering Bastards (Good times, Angele), we rode the pleasant but deserted new subway, we watched a cobra milking at the Queen Saovabha Memorial Institute snake farm, and we clapped through an hour of one of the best bad transvestite revue shows ever at Mambo Cabaret.
Once again, we've found that Bangkokites love some hot food. I thought I was pretty well advanced in the chili arts, but this place knocks me on my ass. There was not one day out of seven that did not include bouts of extreme spicy discomfort. It feels like there's a chemical burn at the base of my tongue. Ice doesn't help. Alcohol doesn't help. Nothing does. Soda just makes it worse with all those popping bubbles poking open sores instead of soothing them. I wonder if they put chilis in baby food. If they do, I want to live here even more.
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