July 25, 2007
Last night Kinan and I had Thai food at Jitlada, which is your standard “Hollywood restaurant in strip mall next to orthopedic hat store which is also a notary”. Only it’s NOT standard: it has a special Southern Thai menu, which… okay, I’m not really sure what that means except that it was extra-delicious.
Here are reasons it was excellent:
1) Our waitress was, I think, the owners’ teenage daughter. I love it when girls are old enough that they’re all weirded out by their bodies, BUT NOT in the way they’ll get when they’re older, the OH GOD I AM INADEQUATE way, but just the HOLY SHIT MY ARMS ARE REALLY LONG ALL OF A SUDDEN, WHAT IS GOING ON HERE way. So cute!
(Also, I do not mean the above in a creepy way. Thank you.)
2) The Southern Thai section of the menu was originally only in Thai! And then some enterprising visitor to the restaurant translated it! And posted it to some foodie blog! And suddenly people are diving on it! It’s the long tail in action! Or something.
3) The people next to us were two straight (if you saw their shirts, you would agree with me on this) men who talked briefly about sports and then talked about celebrity scandals. The one explained to the other that Lindsay Lohan had only been chasing her assistant’s mom in order to give her a severance check. People always sound so incredibly authoritative when talking about celebrity scandals! I found myself nodding at his pithy analysis of the plight of child stars, even though it made no actual sense.
4) Kinan and I barely talked once the food arrived. We were too busy eating a whole deep-fried red snapper flavored with tumeric and mounds of crunchy garlic and flaming-hot dry beef curry and vermicelli in also flaming-hot ground fish curry. At one point Kinan said something and I had to respond: “What? I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening because I was chewing.”
5) After the food, we cooled down with always-excellent thai iced tea, which of course tastes like sucking condensed milk through a wood chopstick, BUT IN A GOOD WAY.
6) Then we crossed the street to HOME DEPOT. I find home improvement stores very exciting and very mysterious, and I think I drove Kinan crazy with my constant “HEY, do you want to go SMELL the wood section?!?” and “LOOK! Dowels! Dowels are my favorite.”
But then again Kinan was no slouch with the “LOOK! PLYWOOD! I could display it in my home as an objet d’art!” so overall I suspect the contractors who were there buying pressure-treated lumber to build GARAGES were totally disgusted by us.