At the invitation of the Tourism Authority of Thailand, destinations editor Eric Moya is traveling throughout the country to experience off-the-beaten-path destinations and activities.
"American spicy or Thai spicy?" That's been the question, in one form or another, for nearly every meal on this trip: Can you take the heat?
It's a valid question, and a considerate one posed to this group made up of North American media and travel agents. After all, accommodating allergies, dietary restrictions and, to some degree, personal preferences is a part of most any group trip, and Americans generally aren't associated with a love of spicy food. (I realize fans of Tex-Mex and Cajun cuisine -- I am one -- will beg to differ.)
The Tourism Authority of Thailand distributed a document to folks on this trip titled "Things You Need to Know Before You Go." Here I'll quote from a section headlined "Spice Is Part of Thai Life":
"Spice is a staple ingredient of most food in Thailand. Mild can be hot to the average Westerner. To expect food with no spice is unrealistic. We have asked all hotels etc. to keep the food as mild as possible."
"As mild as possible"? Well, boo.
After reading that, I realized I needed to establish my bona fides immediately. I've enjoyed Indian curry in Singapore, peppery Sichuan cuisine in China, tortas ahogadas in Mexico and have devoured Nashville hot chicken prepared at a spice level just short of being a dare. So if the goal is to enjoy the flavors that peppers can bring to food and experience local cuisine in its typical form -- and not to win a T-shirt from your local Buffalo wing joint -- I say, bring it on.
On the first day, I tried to set the tone at Methavalai Sorndaeng, a delightful venue where a pianist seated at a baby grand plays instrumental versions of American oldies, joined occasionally by elegantly dressed women singing what I figure are Thai classics (I recognized one as a soundtrack staple at one of my favorite restaurants back home).
I ordered the beef with green curry, and the question came: "American spicy or Thai spicy?" I explained that I wanted it at the heat level that was customary for Thais who order the dish -- no more, no less.
My order came, and although I was enjoying it, I wondered if maybe I mistakenly got someone else's curry. It was hot, but I was eating it without a hint of discomfort. Perhaps something got lost in the translation, but I began to suspect that they were trying to take it easy on me.
The next day's meals weren't helping me earn my spice cred. In Bangkok's Chinatown we ate dim sum and other Cantonese-inspired dishes. At wildly popular pad thai eatery Thipsamai, the signature noodle entree is mild (ahem, American mild), and guests can add peppers (as well as crushed peanuts, red chili flakes and other condiments) to their taste.
I grabbed the jar of chilies from the condiments rack and started topping my dish.
Then I heard it: "Careful, spicy." Sigh.
I began feeling like despite my best efforts to convey that, yes, I enjoy spicy food, thank you, they were always going to dial back the heat, depriving me of Thai cuisine in its truest form.
Photo Credit: TW photo by Eric Moya
The next day, our group got an early rise to catch the one-hour flight to Trat. We learned about the confluence of Thai, Chinese and Muslim cultures in the fishing village of Ban Nam Chiao and got hands-on demonstrations of some of the crafts made there (sturdy palm-leaf hats and delicate, tostada-like rice crackers were highlighted during our half-day visit).
Then it was time for lunch, courtesy of our hosts and the Khlong Nam Chiao canal. The mouth-watering dishes kept coming. Many, such as an omelet flavored with fish sauce, were spice-free. But when this landed on the table, I knew it'd be the culinary highlight of the day:
I helped myself to a healthy portion of fish, ladling a conservative spoonful of the sauce on top. "Careful, spicy," came the refrain. I ignored it. Fresh fish and the sauce's potent zing had me in food bliss.
A funny thing happened as the meal continued. A couple of our hosts began fanning their tongues and reaching for the ice water. The fish was the spiciest dish we'd had so far. It was also probably my favorite.
"It's not spicy to you?" one of the hosts asked, my tolerance level finally sinking in.
"It's hot, but I'm doing fine," I replied, taking a sip of my water. "Can I sit at the big kids table now?"