Me vs. The Lava Bowl: A Green Curry Awakening

[Lewie London]

Well, maties, me back’s feeling a bit better now and me ribs are still proper bruised but alas, not so painful anymore. Been keeping me insides happy this trip with the safe stuff: Pad Thai, chicken and cashews, that boiled chicken and rice number, Khao Man Gai or whatever it’s called. Dead tame, like grub for a toddler, but it’s done the job. No drama, besides the fried rice with shrimp debacle yesterday, and no porcelain god evacuations at 3am.

 

But this afternoon? Nah, lads, today I went full numpty.

 

Perched in this little street joint near me kip, bit grubby, proper local vibes. Not a tourist in sight. I’m feeling flash, thinking I’ve cracked this Thai food game. Waiter comes over, all smiles, and I go, “Mate, I’m bored of the kiddie menu. Whack us out something proper today. Summat green curry I see everyone else ordering, yeah?” He pauses, asks if I want it spicy. I puff up, “Course I do, mate. I eat curry all the time back in London. Piece of piss.”

 

Absolute madness, lads. UK curry’s like warm yoghurt compared to this Thai lava soup. But I’m sat there, smug as you like, waiting for what I now realise was me final meal as a functioning human.

 

Curry lands. It’s glowing green, smells like heaven, but looks like a witch brewed it in a cauldron of regret. First bite’s alright, scarfed it with plenty of rice, bit of heat, nothing mental. Second bite, lips start tingling. Third bite, boom, me gob’s on fire, eyeballs sweating, throat’s seized up like an old desk fan. I’m hiccuping like a drunk budgie and guzzling water and eating raw cucumbers like it’s going out of fashion, but it’s like trying to put out a bonfire with spit.

 

Locals are pissing themselves. Waiter’s grinning like he’s just won a bet. I’m sitting there looking like I’ve been tear-gassed. Thirty minutes on and I’m red as a slapped arse, scraping me dignity off the floor, praying for mercy.

 

Stagger back to the gaff, belly gurgling like it’s planning a mutiny. Spend the next 2 hours in what can only be described as a high-speed relationship with the bog. Honestly, I’ve had gentler food poisoning from a dodgy kebab in Croydon. I was sweating from places I didn’t know existed. Thought I saw the light at one point, then realised it was just the bathroom bulb swinging.

 

Now I’m sprawled out on me bed, fan on full blast, tongue hanging out like a soi dog in hot season, wondering why I didn’t just stick to me cashews and chicken. Lads, next time I try and act hard and order “authentic” Thai spice, do us a favour and remind us I’m a soft git from across the pond, not a fire-eating circus act.

 

Anyway, now I’ve had me arse handed to me by a curry, I’m asking you lot what proper Thai dishes are worth trying that won’t torch me gob or leave me clinging to the thunderbox? I’m all ears, but no seafood stuff yeah cause I’m allergic, and as long as they don’t come with a side of internal combustion. Cheers, mates. 

[marin]

Awful, just awful. Give it up dude. 

[Ralf001]

what sort of 3rd world dumpster do you live in that has a toilet light bulb that swings ?

[hughrection]

You need to stop eating food and drinking water immediately.

 

Give it 5 days or so. Many thanks.

[Crossy]

3 minutes ago, Ralf001 said:

what sort of 3rd world dumpster do you live in that has a toilet light bulb that swings ?

 

 

[1FinickyOne]

Penang Moo

[FritsSikkink]

7 hours ago, Lewie London said:

Well, maties, me back’s feeling a bit better now and me ribs are still proper bruised but alas, not so painful anymore. Been keeping me insides happy this trip with the safe stuff: Pad Thai, chicken and cashews, that boiled chicken and rice number, Khao Man Gai or whatever it’s called. Dead tame, like grub for a toddler, but it’s done the job. No drama, besides the fried rice with shrimp debacle yesterday, and no porcelain god evacuations at 3am.

 

But this afternoon? Nah, lads, today I went full numpty.

 

Perched in this little street joint near me kip, bit grubby, proper local vibes. Not a tourist in sight. I’m feeling flash, thinking I’ve cracked this Thai food game. Waiter comes over, all smiles, and I go, “Mate, I’m bored of the kiddie menu. Whack us out something proper today. Summat green curry I see everyone else ordering, yeah?” He pauses, asks if I want it spicy. I puff up, “Course I do, mate. I eat curry all the time back in London. Piece of piss.”

 

Absolute madness, lads. UK curry’s like warm yoghurt compared to this Thai lava soup. But I’m sat there, smug as you like, waiting for what I now realise was me final meal as a functioning human.

 

Curry lands. It’s glowing green, smells like heaven, but looks like a witch brewed it in a cauldron of regret. First bite’s alright, scarfed it with plenty of rice, bit of heat, nothing mental. Second bite, lips start tingling. Third bite, boom, me gob’s on fire, eyeballs sweating, throat’s seized up like an old desk fan. I’m hiccuping like a drunk budgie and guzzling water and eating raw cucumbers like it’s going out of fashion, but it’s like trying to put out a bonfire with spit.

 

Locals are pissing themselves. Waiter’s grinning like he’s just won a bet. I’m sitting there looking like I’ve been tear-gassed. Thirty minutes on and I’m red as a slapped arse, scraping me dignity off the floor, praying for mercy.

 

Stagger back to the gaff, belly gurgling like it’s planning a mutiny. Spend the next 2 hours in what can only be described as a high-speed relationship with the bog. Honestly, I’ve had gentler food poisoning from a dodgy kebab in Croydon. I was sweating from places I didn’t know existed. Thought I saw the light at one point, then realised it was just the bathroom bulb swinging.

 

Now I’m sprawled out on me bed, fan on full blast, tongue hanging out like a soi dog in hot season, wondering why I didn’t just stick to me cashews and chicken. Lads, next time I try and act hard and order “authentic” Thai spice, do us a favour and remind us I’m a soft git from across the pond, not a fire-eating circus act.

 

Anyway, now I’ve had me arse handed to me by a curry, I’m asking you lot what proper Thai dishes are worth trying that won’t torch me gob or leave me clinging to the thunderbox? I’m all ears, but no seafood stuff yeah cause I’m allergic, and as long as they don’t come with a side of internal combustion. Cheers, mates. 

Tell someone who cares.

[Gottfrid]

15 hours ago, Lewie London said:

He pauses, asks if I want it spicy. I puff up, “Course I do, mate. I eat curry all the time back in London. Piece of piss.”

It was your attitude that punished you, and not the food. You could have said no! There is your problem.

[EVENKEEL]

Bob's your uncle.