I’ll never forget my first Thai green curry. Coming from the Land of the Bland, this famous Thai dish was an assault on my taste buds. They say that the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach; this was love at first bite.
Food and culture go hand in hand. For example, the British call the French “Frog’s Legs” while the French retort by calling the Brits “Roast Beef”. The cultural differences between the two countries have turned into one big food fight.
Here in Thailand we even refer to the economic crash of ten year’s ago as the Tom Yum Kung Crisis – probably because it was hot and spicy with only little bits of chewy lemon grass floating in the bottom of the bowl when all the good stuff has been devoured.
The best way to get to know people from another part of the world is to sit down to eat together. Unfortunately, it can also sometimes lead to some misunderstandings.
My friend’s mum used to be the Justice Minister for the Irish parliament. During her term in office she took a delegation of Irish businessmen to China to build ties between the two countries. The Irish delegates were first at the convention centre for the high-level trade talks and when their Chinese hosts arrived they were absolutely horrified to find the Irish eating all the offerings that had been left on the Spirit House outside the door.
Whilst in the eyes of the Chinese, the small snacks and bottles of Fanta were offerings made to keep the spirits happy, the Irish visitors thought that it was the buffet. One delegate was even heard to complain that he didn’t think much to the food the hosts had laid on. While the gracious host finally accepted the cultural gaff made by the visitors, I don’t think the hungry ghosts would have been too happy.
Meanwhile, back in here in the Lord Buddha’s chosen bakery I have to admit there are a couple of culinary quirks that have taken me some time to get used to. While Thailand has arguably the best food on the planet, you guys have some pretty weird eating habits. Mrs Sub, for example, can take a perfectly delicious bowl of noodles and absolutely ruin it with spoonfuls of sugar. She will then wash this down with a refreshing glass of orange juice, topped up with a couple of spoonfuls of salt and on the one day a month when the whole family goes “inter” and orders in a pizza she insists on extra sachets of ketchup.
Now correct me if I’m wrong, isn’t pizza basically bread and tomato sauce already? It makes no difference to her as she covers the whole thing in sauce until it ends up looking like an Italian road crash.
