Sometimes I get the urge you know. Oh yes. And last night was no exception. But in spite of scouring the better and seedier side of Pompey for Vietnamese cuisine I was disappointed. At one point I thought I was in paradise as the heady aroma of fish sauce wafted gently towards me from….some kind of glue manufacturing plant.
I really had a hankering for one of these. And some of this.
Not a hope. I could of course, have improvised (something I am really good at), for instance I could have grabbed a steak and kidney pie, a pack of super noodles, an oxo cube and a bottle of Tabasco, toddled off back to my room and poured a kettle of boiling briny over the lot, (discarding the pie crust and pastry of course. But no, I settled for the nearest neighbour, a Thai eatery in Southsea.
Sometimes a man needs something very spicy to replenish his deep yearning, and this night was no exception. I don’t ‘do’ curry any more after a disturbing incident in Lahore years ago, the details of which will no doubt emerge here with the effluxion of time, but for now it is suffice to say that the words ‘blowflies’, ‘arse’ and ‘flock of sparrows’ come to mind, so I ordered sautéed minced pork with chillies and a bowl of steamed rice in the mistaken belief that it would tame the beast within.
Something was lacking and I summoned the waitress who was, strangely enough, English, young, spotty and er…. not too quick on the uptake.
I couldn’t see what I wanted on the menu but knew what it was called.
Having told her that I fancied ‘a little bit of Nam Prik’, I was surprised to find her flying into a rage. Next thing I knew was that half the kitchen staff were out for me. Things did calm down when the mistaken intent was realised but if you employ foreign bimbos I suppose that’s what you get.
I really had a hankering for one of these. And some of this.
Not a hope. I could of course, have improvised (something I am really good at), for instance I could have grabbed a steak and kidney pie, a pack of super noodles, an oxo cube and a bottle of Tabasco, toddled off back to my room and poured a kettle of boiling briny over the lot, (discarding the pie crust and pastry of course. But no, I settled for the nearest neighbour, a Thai eatery in Southsea.
Sometimes a man needs something very spicy to replenish his deep yearning, and this night was no exception. I don’t ‘do’ curry any more after a disturbing incident in Lahore years ago, the details of which will no doubt emerge here with the effluxion of time, but for now it is suffice to say that the words ‘blowflies’, ‘arse’ and ‘flock of sparrows’ come to mind, so I ordered sautéed minced pork with chillies and a bowl of steamed rice in the mistaken belief that it would tame the beast within.
Something was lacking and I summoned the waitress who was, strangely enough, English, young, spotty and er…. not too quick on the uptake.
I couldn’t see what I wanted on the menu but knew what it was called.
Having told her that I fancied ‘a little bit of Nam Prik’, I was surprised to find her flying into a rage. Next thing I knew was that half the kitchen staff were out for me. Things did calm down when the mistaken intent was realised but if you employ foreign bimbos I suppose that’s what you get.
4 comments:
Very funny!
It wasn't your accent that may have caused the mis hap was it?
PS, how do you get the streaming news in your side bar you flash git?!
TUPC - I got it from the CNS Newswire service, but I am working on some better un's just to be a suave sophisticate like that Trevor McDoughnut. The scrolling ticker is at:
http://www.cnsnews.com/ticker/cnsticker.asp
B.C.
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