A simple pleasure - lunchtime destination

by Disha Shetty (Singapore)

Making a local connection Thailand

"Today, I MUST steer away from the planned routes and touristy landmarks of my guide!" - that's what I thought stepping into the dingy by-lanes of Yaowaraj, trying to follow the scent of unrecognizable but definitely delicious food that could not be found in the heart of Bangkok. And even if you did find it, it would be served to you with a dash of customized-for-the-tourist condiment. When I arrived at the place beside which was beside a shrine with a narrow road that had almost no space for vehicles to move, yet everything from street-vendor carts to living beings made their way in and out of the many tiny shop openings into the main by-lane without any fear for life. In short, my anxiety got the better of me and I froze; I required the help of a passer-by to get from one side of the road to another. You would scoff if you knew the road was only two meters in width. Sure, I was well aware. But, my first world problems always pose as a challenge. I had arrived at my lunchtime destination for the day. I was surprised on seeing an extremely frail old woman who mastered the knife like a pro while cutting meat like it was an everyday affair, which it was for her. My first thought- She'd be a good competition to all the contenders on master-chef with those skills. It was no Michelin star place but the hovering crowd around the place was testament enough for it to be one. There was no menu. All you got was rice porridge with pig blood soup and few pieces of the seasoned pork meat. After some friendly banter with the other customers, I learnt that this particular dish was a Cantonese delicacy and most of the shop owners here on Yaowaraj had Chinese roots which is why it was also known as Chinatown in Bangkok and where I stood was a part of Chinatown that was not visited by tourists and was only a spot that fed hungry locals from around and those who came from far off places in the city. I finished my first bowl and asked for another bowl. Prior to gorging on my second bowl, another customer told me that this loving grandmother's food was healthy and tasted heavenly at the same time and I could always have another bowl if I wanted to. People were having their third bowls. Surprisingly, I had spent close to three hours at this place and when I paid for the two bowls of food, she declined the money for two and charged me just for one bowl. Her kindness to a stranger like me who wasn't among her regular stream of customers impressed me even further. All through my time there, she didn't say a word except smile at me in the end when I thanked her and left. I knew we did not speak a common tongue to communicate but the language of food and most importantly the language of a content heart always speaks through one's face. My day was complete with this simple yet very homely meal. In the days to come, as hard as I tried to and as much as I wanted to, I could not remember the shop owner's face nor the name of her shop. In my narration to others I often called her the frail grandma whose food had the magic of a special kind of love and warmth. I wonder how many years it took her to be the master of such simple food; I suppose the next time I go there, I need to find out. Until then, I will suppress my craving to have another bowl which I regret not having and move on with my life for now. This one has qualified as the best meal of my lifetime. I'd say it's hard to find a competitor. She was a simple woman who managed to touch all my senses with her simple food. There is always something about the simple pleasures in life.