Pages

3.11.2012

STICKYRICEMANGO

Recently my husband and I tried a newer Thai Restaurant in our community.  I love Thai food and Doug, well he was game to try it.  It is authentic Thai food and owned by a Thai family.  I love that mix of sweet, salty, sour and a hint of bitter that permeates their cuisine.  I asked our server, the father of the business, what the bean sprout salad was all about.  I love bean sprouts - raw or cooked and eat them at home regularly.  His English was good in the sense that he seemed to know a lot of it.  His English though was poor in the fact that it was hard to catch the English word he was saying through his country's native accent.  I was asking about what was in the salad.  He was thinking I didn't have a clue what a bean sprout was.  "I go git you bean sprout to show," he said as he turned back toward the kitchen assuming this Midwestern girl had no clue what they were or had ever eaten them!  I stopped him, expressing that I knew what a bean sprout was.  Having cleared up that small language barrier issue, Doug and I ordered -  me, the bean sprout salad with Thai rolls, and Doug, the cashew chicken with sticky rice.  It was delicious.  The crunchy bean sprout salad had a bit of sweet/sour and bitter dressing on it that made you both want to stop eating and keep eating at the same time.  Finishing off the meal, our waiter came back to the table.  Curious on what they offered for dessert, I asked what they had.  "Stickyricemango", came the very fast response cloaked in his Thai accent and phrasing.  My brain was quickly playing a mental version of the game "Mad Gab", where you read a phrase off a card that is spelled how you would say it but not how your eyes and voice can easily decipher what the phrase truly is.  What in the hell did he just say?  All the words just blurred together in heavily Thai accented phrasing.  I don't want to offend him by saying, HUH-WHAT!  I'll try again, but instead of asking him what it was again, I'll ask what it is made of so I can figure out what the dessert is by the ingredients. "So, now what exactly is in that dessert?" I say with grace and discretion seeking to fulfill my HUH WHAT IN THE HELL DID HE SAY without asking it again.  While not missing a beat, and assuming possibly that my intelligence was borderline low, he replied, "M A N G O      and, STICKYRICE" (said with the word mango drawn out and the latter part blurred together).   I thought we were going to fall off our chairs in laughter.  We waited to do so though until he was out of sight.  This waiter truly believed I did not know what a bean sprout was or mangoes or sticky rice!  I felt like I was assuming he was intelligent and speaking to him that way.  I'm not sure he felt I was intelligent or worthy of his country's cuisine.  

No comments:

Post a Comment