One brisk night, a friend (we’ll call her M) and I decided to undertake a culinary adventure in C-town’s transport precinct. We both know that all the best eateries are found in unusual places.
It’s just so important to us that our dining experiences are as authentic as possible. We always seek the freshest ingredients, wait staff who look like they share an ethnic heritage with the food they’re serving, a shabby unassuming shopfront and a locale that is edgy enough feel slightly rebellious without actually being dangerous.
As a self-confessed connoisseur of the cuisine of Thailand, I must say that the small A’s Thai and Continental Restaurant provided a remarkable dining experience. M ordered Plah Pa which is a piquant seabass salad served with a garnish of kaffir lime leaves and coriander.
My iPhone took a beautiful photo of M’s dish. I also took a series of Hipstamatic prints but due to megabyte restrictions, I’m unable to load them here. However, I have loaded them on to my Macbook Pro and may share them at another time. Possibly even via my Blackberry.
The Plah Pa had authentically fresh flavours reminiscent of roadside vendors and steamy tropical monsoons. The white tender flesh of the seabass provided a creamy texture and delicious counterpoint to the crispness of fresh herbs and garnish.
I ordered Pla Kaphong Tod Takhrai (crispy lemongrass seabass).
I loaded this photo via my Macbook Pro.
The fish was absolutely delicious but it was the the service by the small, charming elderly Thai owner that really made the meal. The Thai are such lovely people. So friendly! Her quaint accent added such ambience to the occasion. Authenticity is so important to me and I’m sure that my meal wouldn’t have been the same if I’d been served by a thin white university student.
The atmosphere of authenticity was enhanced by the genuine Thai wallhangings, a small Buddhist shrine on the front counter and delicately patterned silver serving dishes. Charming.
M and I enjoyed our meal so much that we chose to tip our waitress two dollars. She seemed extremely grateful.
After our meal, we emerged into the crisp C-town air and stood amongst the cigarette butts, chewing gum and shivering smokers who had emerged from a nearby pub well known for it’s shabbiness. We too stood about smoking, discussing Leonard Cohen lyrics and existential philosophies.
The evening was a success.
Tomorrow M and I will continue our culinary adventure with an expedition to find the finest coffee in C-town. We’ve heard rumours of a cafe in a remote industrial estate. Our palettes have become jaded with all the substandard coffee on offer in mainstream outlets.