thai food at the wick inn

A week ago, I came back home to find a note from D that he had gone for Tai Chi. Interesting, I thought. I realised that my fingerless lace gloves had arrived in the post, in my attempt to replace all the four pairs of gloves that mysteriously 'disappeared' from my carefully-packed possessions* in my dorm room. So I decided to meet him for drinks and dinner, changed my outfit to one more befitting of the gloves** and put on my Icarus Grew Oriental Wings top, slicked on some red lipstick, dramatised the black liquid eyeliner and the appropriate accouterments-- a ring with a burst of pearls and another sheer red fabric rose one, both from Diva, and bronze chandelier earrings from Forever 21. I also threw on my gold Bebe brocade coat and a Dior handbag with pretty embroidery, feeling in my element. As I walked there, I kept texting him to order wedges-- my pub staple-- fantasising about warm hearty and slightly spicy potato chunks I would anoint with vinegar and pepper, but he kept telling me to be patient. For what? I wondered. And then as I walked into the charming old pub The Wick Inn, with a gleeful smile did he hand over the Thai Menu to me. And all cravings of wedges shimmered out of the many windows in the establishment. .

*Because you don't screw with the memory of an elephant, much less a photographic one. Alas, how is one to raise a case that 'four pairs of gloves and two letters were selectively stolen from my room?'
** You know how you might have no sense of delayed gratification and must wear new stuff now?

I think we both had problems deciding what we wanted-- everything seemed so good. Whilst waiting for our food over drinks, I got my curiosity indulged over his Tai Chi class and then I wondered, why on earth is it that apart from my Chinese-educated father, the only other person in the world who talks to me about Chinese history, Buddhist and Taoist philosophy, The Tibetan Book of the Dead or anything Orientalist in depth is . . a British man. Clearly, that is an endearing factor. People of Chinese ethnicity make up about 79% of Singapore's population, many speak Mandarin but . .  somehow nobody talks about these stuff which I rather enjoy. Makes a refreshing change to have something speak to you about everything in the world, from Engels to Stargate to shoes to Macintosh gadgets to Orientalist philosophy to Occultism to food. You get the picture. Sometimes I feel like all my wishes have come true when I used to desperately wish that such a diverse man would suddenly pop into my life.

Behold, the spread! Beef jungle curry, coconut rice, Pad Thai, mixed starters and spicy seafood salad. We've both eaten loads of Thai food around the world, and yet agree that this one was particularly amazing. And extremely reasonable too. It was about £30 for this large meal, including drinks. (Everyday I am so happy that the food in Brighton is international, cheap and awesome). 

The intricacy of the garnishings were fascinating even. The Pad Thai, for instance, had a web of sweet omelete carefully woven atop. And you get big chunks of seafood in the salad. Very generous portions. The two of us were stuffed by the time we finished, and mind you, we have huge appetites.

I am now working on putting together a gorgeous makeup bag, rather than a purely utilitarian one. This brocade lipstick holder is just the start, and I was thinking how strange is it that as teenagers, we used to find these "too Chinese" or "too old-fashioned". I'd love to get back to Singapore and dig up my stash of gorgeous brocade pouches that I think I saved from my late grandmother's stuff. . . Pieces replete with memories, stories and beauty-- what better combination?

Have a glorious weekend ahead, and thank you for your continued presence here on Devilishly Pleasurable. And, glad to know you liked the food and bath posts! x