No new love was sparked on the eve of this new year, though I cued neither party in and so neither abided my wishes. I think maybe I was not devious enough... back to the drawing board.
I spent New Years Day at Powells City of Books bumping and glaring my way through the crowd. There is never one single running log left on the shelf January 1st, so many new runners resolved on that day. I am going to remember next year, like I didn't remember this year, or last year.
For consolation I bought myself a Thai cook book and elbowed my way out of the store, drove home swerving dangerously in traffic rubbernecking the flooded river. Today, after a long afternoon walking in Forest Park, we shopped the Asian Market for lemongrass and galangal, tamarind and kaffir leaves.
Yam woon sen is a glass noodle salad that I eat with big deep feelings of love and need. I tried to make yam woon sen tonight. The noodles went wrong though I cant imagine where, and for my BF I left out the birdseye chili, and think maybe I should have used chili paste and maybe more sugar. It actually was very good but the bar has been set and simply nothing else will do.
There are a few recipes I have made it my goal to master. Quite simply, I do not like the vulnerability of need and if it ever comes down to Tom Kah or Die I need to know I wont suffer that long dark night.
I made sure the cookbook had a few essential recipes: pad see-ew, som tum, peanut sauce, curries, chaa yen, tod mun pla, and mango sticky rice... though there are some dishes I have eaten in the back room of the restaurant that I doubt will ever be found in any cookbook written in English.
In the meantime, Piyada is coming back to the United States this month so she say to me in November and she says, will help me cook with greatness. Im Jai.
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