The grilled pork belly to the pok pok salad Thai street food has a variety of flavors
Glistening, jewel-like pieces of grilled pork belly are calling me from the next stall over. Marinated in lemongrass, coconut milk, chilies and fish sauce, these delicacies are then threaded on a skewer with pineapple and a single thai chili. Slightly grilled and served with a sweet thai chili sauce, they are so good that I have yet to taste a better piece of pork. Ever. To give the cuisine absolute diligence, I must try a chicken satay and I quickly find one down the road. As my wife and I nibble on the satays, I find myself babbling about how tender and delicious these are. They are so good, that we order another round, and after a few more bites it finally dawns on me: this is not just any chicken satay. These are, in fact, grilled chicken-skin satays. This to me is pure genius. I mean, taking the best part off the chicken and serving just that. These alone are worth the trip to Bangkok.
I love the Thai philosophy of eating. It basically goes like this: eat what you want when you want, at any time of the day. There is no structure to when certain foods are served here. The street stalls are open from early morning until late night, making your dining choices limitless.
As I make my way through the bustling market sampling sweet corn fritters, pok pok salad, grilled pork meatballs, roast duck, marinated pigs ears, beef noodle soup…etcetera, I am amazed how fresh and vibrant all the food is. Everything here goes far beyond my expectations. To make matters even better, the most expensive thing is the roast half-duck, which is a mere two dollars. My attention continuously wanders to a busy type of street buffet.
It is not often that you have a meal that is a revelatory experience. That a meal can change the way you think about the given cuisine as a whole (especially when you are already enchanted by said cuisine), drastically raises the bar and shatters all others before it. A meal that leaves you speechless and in complete wonder at the flavor and technique displayed on the plate in front of you; a meal that is so deeply rooted in your consciousness that you can still conjure up the flavor long after paying the bill; a meal of which only hours after consuming it, I had a vivid and brilliant dream, only to awake and want more; a meal that even now, a month later, as I write this, makes me smile broadly. That this meal was served from a cart and consumed at a small table on the edge of the street as tuk tuks and motorbikes whizzed by only fueled the fire that was already raging on my palette. This is the feast that is the street-cart buffet in front of Sweeneys on Khoa San Road.