Tasteless Thai

This has nothing to do with what I’m about to write, but I swear to god, while riding my motorcycle to get some food tonight, I almost crashed into an elephant’s ass. I’m totally serious. That’s living in Thailand for you.

Anyway…

One of the greatest things about living in Thailand, naturally, is the food. Thai food was my favorite long before I ever set foot in this sweltering country, and although I do grow fairly tired of it here and there, I’m sure it’ll still be my favorite when I leave. YET, I take incredible joy from also eating other kinds of foods like Indian, Italian, Greek, or Cajun, to name just a few. Just yesterday I went to a restaurant that featured food “From the Roman empire.” I know, sounds totally strange, but strange enough to make me curious. The food wasn’t that strange, but it was different and delicious.

One thing that may surprise an ex-pat living in Thailand is the food. Not Thai food per se, but the lack thereof of ALL other kinds. This is not entirely true if you are a tourist on Sukhumvit road – the traditional middle-upper class tourist area or Khao San – the sloppy and slightly seedy backpacker area.

My close friend Bill and I decided to go to a local hotel that was advertising a “Mexican buffet.” We live in a very “Thai” area (almost no foreigners or foreign food), and this was an answer to our prayers. The hotel was nicer than we thought it’d be and the buffet almost bugged our eyes right out of their sockets. It was like food heaven and we kept passing each other at the different islands of the buffet going “Can you believe this?” We were simply happy.

For all the lack of culinary diversity in Bangkok, Mexican is probably one of the least represented, much to the lament of many ex-pats who usually name it first or second in the regularly-held, “God, don’t you miss…..” food conversations I’ve been in here. (These are always interesting conversations, where ex-pats describe in minute and sensual detail all the food they are without, as if we’re all stuck in a deserted island subsisting on fish and coconuts). But that just goes more to my point – there’s a lot of Thai food here, and not a lot else.

So, get this: as Bill and I were sitting at our table ingesting the food with relish, we looked uneasily across from us where a lengthy table was packed with Thai police. About 15 of them, they were all leaning back in their chairs with uncomfortable and surly expressions on their faces. We knew they were there as some sort of bribe dinner (the various forms of bribery are more rampant here than I ever imagined). We wondered why they didn’t get up and get their food, and soon we saw why. Waiters and waitresses dressed up in the typical Mexican restaurant outfits (you should have seen the sombreros on these Thai men!) came gliding over carrying steaming bowls of fried rice. They began depositing them, and other Thai dishes in front of the men. Bill and I were aghast. FRIED FUCKING RICE? Surrounded by all this good (and good quality) food, they were not only ordering a Thai dish, but a boring one at that! WHY? WHY? WHY?

It’s simple really, Thais like Thai food ONLY. This is something I have tried to comprehend (while questioning many Thais) and have never received a clear answer. Of course, Thai food is fantastic, but if I was required to eat it for the rest of my life, I’d be pretty damn depressed. Even English food is tolerable if one really needs a change.

Recently, I was on a work trip to Singapore. I was eating with a colleague, a Thai woman, in a giant food court filled with all sorts of ethnic treats. She ordered Thai food. I ordered Korean, even getting extra kimchi, thinking as a Thai, she’d be way into something pickled, sour and spicy. She adamantly refused to touch it. Not even a taste. “I’m Thai,” she said, “I only like Thai food.” I was stunned. Sure, most travelers have been “guilty” of eating at McDonald’s while abroad. It’s familiar, it’s easy, and it’s a piece of home. Besides a few strange differences, (“la biere” in France or a “sticky rice sandwich” in Thailand), we know we can go in there and get a Big Mac combo and feel the comfort in its memorable taste. But EVERY meal, McDonald’s? How do your tastebuds not scream out in agony of this lifelong repetition? Thai food is made up of about 10 basic ingredients, kind of like Taco Bell’s five. They’re blended in different ways and different amounts with different meats, but the tastes are similar. Sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, sometimes both, and always sour.

Perhaps due to the fact that repetition is one of those things that makes me feel like I may actually be going fucking insane, that I cannot understand how it’s so happily endured by others. What would make one eat ONLY his/her own ethnic food? Is it really the taste or some sort of psychological gastronomic security blanket? I’ll leave that question to the academics; I don’t have the strength or life span for a dissertation.