Word: dishes
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...first hint that all was not right came with the dish of “Russian Roulette” pickled peppers, so called because they ranged in intensity from mind-blowing to deadly. “So, which are the hot ones?” I cleverly asked my waitress. She didn’t even crack a smile. Clearly, exposure to spicy food had done nothing to improve her disposition...
...fire (hot! dangerous!), and buoyed by the fact that they were causing diners to cry in pain, they were a rowdy, and extremely cheerful, bunch. As I ordered the Infamous Pasta from Hell ($8.50) with habañero sausage and oil-pickled chili peppers, at seven bombs the hottest dish on the menu, they laughed in glee. “When you eat it,” cackled the chef closest to my table, “don’t blame...
...obligatory lunches in whichever Chinatown my family found ourselves in while on vacations abroad. The twiddling of Chinese cuisine in an attempt to defer to a foreign palate never ceases to amuse me. Bold flavours, robust odors, all attenuated and toned down to a median of blandness. This dish, and seven others only remotely similar to it, sloshed over with the same all-purpose sauce. Or, more unscrupulously, a restaurateur exploiting the relative ignorance of his clientele and passing off slapdash imitations as the real thing...
...brittle threads strewn with shrimp, chicken, bean sprouts, scallions, egg and ground peanuts, sweet and sticky and sour, the whole inescapably recalling peanut butter (which, to me, is a good thing). The Rad-Na (wide rice) Noodles ($7.95/8.95) were to all appearances a facsimile of a staple Singaporean dish, beef kway teow, which uses exactly the same ingredients (beef slices and Chinese broccoli, or kai lan) and a more or less similar gravy composed mainly of dark soy sauce. This was very good indeed...
...yellow curry emblazoned with a cautionary star (“spicy”) was, at least to my desensitized, spice-assailed palate, only faintly challenging, and had a number of irrelevant vegetables cluttering up the dish (although on hindsight perhaps they were meant to temper the spiciness, such as it is): pineapples, potatoes and cherry tomatoes. The traditional accompaniments, I believe, are tiny Thai eggplants—mini-grenades of acridity, the size of a blueberry, spurting an intensely bitter juice when bitten. But the curry itself was smooth and velvety, laden with an appropriately immoderate amount of coconut milk...