NOT a food blog
The restaurant was as authentic as it could get. From fake plastic flowers in cheerful reds and yellows that guaranteed eternal spring to Thai speaking waitresses who whispered conspiratorially upon learning that I wasn’t Thai (my two mates consisted of a pale faced Aussie and the Hairy Weekend B^*ch©, both of whom bore very little resemblance to anything Thai), it was almost as if I was transported to the northern country above our peninsular.
Back home, Bald Eagle was aghast. “You brought an Aussie tourist to a Thai restaurant??”
“Yep. It’s in Malaysia, mah.”
“You’re so not gonna get the award for Malaysian Food Ambassador.”
“Well dear, let’s just say he’s never gonna eat Thai again,” I replied sweetly with a flutter of the eyelashes. The devil’s advocate comes in many forms.
The pad thai was good – thin strands of rice noodles, almost translucent, stir fried with bean sprouts, cubed tofu, spring onions and served with peanuts. It wasn’t heavy at all.
I had never heard of kerabu babi before and was keen to try it. The sliced pork was stir fried in a spicy sauce, and then tossed in lime juice, and served with raw vegetables. It was interesting…the first impact was the strong citric taste, and then the pedas (hot) effect. I’m not sure what went into the marinade, and I couldn’t very well ask anyone because of the language disparity, but suffice to say that this was extremely delicious.
Another great dish was the tom yam. We requested for “less spicy”, but I’m guessing that they didn’t understand what we meant. The soup was thick and full of flavour from the seafood (loads of prawns and clams) and exuded the rich, intense aroma of all the different ingredients. BUT. It was extremely pedas! I kept running back and forth, doing jumping jacks and washing my face in my attempt to overcome the discomfort I was feeling. James, on the other hand, didn’t bother touching it after seeing our (my) reaction. The Weekend B^*ch© did a great job in maintaining decorum, but he couldn’t hide the beads of sweat on his forehead despite the airconditioning and the numerous fans pointed in our direction.
“Make it end, make it end!” my mind screamed; it was as though the fire of hell was burning from the esophagus all the way to my stomach. But the torture didn’t end. At first bite, the som tam tasted wonderful….crunchy (peanuts, shredded green papaya) —> sour (green papaya, lime juice, fish sauce) —> savoury (crisp dried shrimps) —> AAARGGGHHHHH SPICAYYYYYY!!! I almost died at this point.
…..sweet relief. Yes, as authentic as it could get.
An experience not for the fainthearted. But very good, nevertheless.
Like childbirth*, I think I have forgotten what it felt like and am dying to return to this torture chamber again.
Total bill – a little over RM60 for 3 persons (inclusive of 3 Singha Beers).
For other reviews, see Cumi & Ciki.
Restoran Baan Nok (above Pasar Mini Thai Market Font)
43G, Jalan Pandan Indah 4/6B,
Opens daily, lunch and dinner.
Food, for me, is a means to an end and not an end in itself.
Food, for me, represents the love of family, the fellowship of friends, and the community and communality it brings.