|
|
|||||||
|
I’ve been told that when you meet “the one”, nothing else matters. That when you meet “the one”, the world around you blends into a deliriously gay pastel mess but you don’t care. Because there in front of you, in striking focus, is “the one”, crystal clear in all their beauty and it’s all you can do to contain your urge for just one touch, one taste. When this happens, you know you’re in love. Or lust. Whatever. 
.
I’d like to begin this post by providing a disclaimer that all the photos are probably tagged incorrectly because I have no idea which dish is which. I mean, just Look At Them. To say that they all look exactly the same is an understatement. I mean, could ya have added any more chilli?? Apparently the answer is actually yes.
.
We all know that I like thai food, I mean heck I even go to Mango Tree for a serve of awful service along side some tasty lobster pad thai. Anywhere, any time, in any state, I can always go a pad thai. So months ago, when I first saw the queues of people outside Busaba Eathai in Soho, my curiosity peaked at the wondrousness that lay within. I mean, there are so many thai places around, not to mention my favourite Siam Central a mere five minutes away. Why the queue? They had me (and my curiousity), but my patience was yet to be persuaded. But here’s a secret. I found out (well, actually, I should have just looked on the website but thanks Charz and EuWen for helping my little brain out with this one) that Busaba Eathai actually has two more branches, all within a stone’s throw from Soho, serving up the same food minus the queue. Gold! Is anyone gonna tell those guys in line in Soho? Actually don’t. This is a good secret. So last weekend, stocking up on nutrition before our three hour dose of Inglorious Basterds, Panu and I dropped by the Store Street branch. They don’t take bookings but for a party of two, we were seated straight away. Screw you, queue!
.
A very weird thing happened yesterday. I was just plodding along minding my own business in Twitterverse when someone asked me for my opinion on something (read: Snog Soho) and I told them how I felt (read: I wouldn’t go there) and to my utter surprise, she didn’t go! Because of what I said! I was a little bit, what the hell someone actually listened to me, but not just like oh hey ok thanks bugger off, but she valued my opinion and changed her plans because of me. Phwoar. … Doesn’t she know that I know the total sum of nothing about anything? Anyway, whatever, there was a glitch in the universe. All should be well again and really, don’t take my advice for anything.
.
Through my numerous monologues on the awesomeness of Kiasu, one would assume that I was loyal to my little Malaysian friend. However, this is far from the case. While I am fiercely loyal to my family and friends, I’m stupendously slutty when it comes to good food and I would totally drop Kiasu like a hot potato if something else were to trump it. But nothing has. Yet. What there has been is ample recommendation. Recommendations for various Malaysian joints, none of which stood out more than those for Satay House; I even recall someone saying something about Malaysian royalty dining there. Hmmm, seriously? Anyway, I brought with me my nasi lemak connoisseur buddy and looked forward to an evening of culinary delights. Disappointingly, after all the hype for Satay House, I’m sorry y’all, but… I thought it was purrrrty darn average.
.
|
|
|||||
|
Copyright © 2010 thecattylife – up close and personal to all things… edible - All Rights Reserved Powered by WordPress & the Atahualpa Theme by BytesForAll. Discuss on our WP Forum |
|||||||
what’s talkin?