The Month of Thai: An Incredibly Stupid Review

Classic.

Minus the fact that I neglected to blog every week, and minus the fact that we only tried 3 of our 4 desired locations, and minus the fact that my photos grew increasingly lackluster... our Month of Thai went swimmingly! But, in my attempt to get back on track for February, I'm going to lump all of our foodscapades into one, glorious, foodporny blog post.

Try to contain your excitement.

Also, as I embark on this new food-blogging journey, I will be providing, for your reading pleasure, an amateurishly detailed, pretentious, and completely irrelevant review comprised of improperly-used adjectives and run-on sentences.

Pad Thai: A preface
As stated, we first tried the aptly-named restaurant: Pad Thai. We decided to commence our foodscapades on a brisk winter afternoon (New Year's Day), around 3pm. Being the only diners at a random ass Thai restaurant in the lull of New Year's Day, we were offered a choice booth with a street-facing view. I was pleased by this selection for we then had a front row view of all the, what I like to call, Resolution Runners. Assessing the scene, I determined that Pad Thai met all the necessary requirements for an establishment worthy of a foodscapade (as stated in my previous post), with a heavy emphasis on the "authenticity" of its staff, as well as a humorous number of spelling and grammatical errors on its menu/website.

Waste not, want not.

Gerry ordered something I can't remember and I, being the adventurous one, ordered my usual Panang Curry. Why? Because in order to appropriately judge a Thai restaurant's goodness, one must order the Panang Curry. Sure-fire way to tell if there's white people in the kitchen.

Anyway, Resolution Runners miserably jogged by as I wafted the warm delicious scents of basil, coconut, and mystery meat that was just placed in front of me. After I took some obnoxious food photos, we dug in.


Pad Thai: A review
With it's smooth, forthright consistency, the Panang Curry at Pad Thai was exquisitely predictable. Robust, lively, and drunk - the Panang quickly soared to the top of my list of favorite things to say repeatedly in Fran Drescher's voice. With every bite, my taste buds were both ubiquitous and quasi-aroused. So much so, that it was ragingly inappropriate. In short, the Panang Curry from Pad Thai was worth more than 140 characters on Twitter.

But, meh.

The other white meat.

Spin Modern Thai Cuisine: A preface
We invited another married couple along for our second foodscapade. You know, because once you're married it is considered a faux pas to associate with the scum who remain in singlehood.

Just kidding. Shout out to all my single ladies out there.

Anyway, they, too, were enamored with the idea of a food adventure and wanted to come along to try some Thai. And, as the food gods would have it, Spin was conveniently located near us both. So basically, let's do food round #2, suckas.

Sorry.

I, for whatever reason, walked into Spin with an air about me. You attempt to write one food review on your small-time blog about a dish you've eaten a thousand times, and suddenly you're a renowned food critic. Needless to say, no one gave a single shit.

The snooty and unexplained air continued through our appetizers and entrees. As did the obnoxious photography. A word of wisdom: when trying to make new friends, avoid taking multiple-angled photos of your food and humble-bragging about how adventurous you and your newly-acquired husband are together.

Anyway, we started off the dining adventure with the Sweet Corn Taro Tempura and the Moo Ping. Which, if you are a 5 year-old, "Moo Ping" would be renamed "Poo Ping" with immature giggles to follow. And now, 2 short app reviews.

Poor little guys didn't even stand a chance. 

Sweet Corn Taro Tempura: A review
Comparable to a dish featured at the Texas State Fair, the Sweet Corn Taro Tempura danced in your mouth like deep fried air. With a confident crunch and a sweet sexiness, the elaborately-named appetizer was about as filling as floss.

Moo Ping ("Poo Ping"): A review
Tasted like pork on a stick.

For dinner, I settled on a dish that I had seen (enviously) many times before on Instagram, the Clay Pot Shrimp. Excited to join the ranks of those who put on the facade as culinarily cultured on Insta, I didn't even need to look at the menu. But then, I looked at the menu. And my mouth was really lusting after the Full Spin. Before I even had the chance to discuss my choice change,  Gerry's that-is-more-expensive-and-worse-for-you eyes burned right through my soul. I'm shackled for the rest of my life in this food prison of a marriage!

Clay Pot Shrimp: A review

Who knew Ramen would be THIS GOOD?

A truly carnivorous experience, the disassembling of the shrimp in the Clay Pot Shrimp will both butter your bread and tickle your predatory senses. With an excessive amount of, presumably, iodized salt, you are representing a dying snail in this edible trip on Thai acid. The poise and grace of the bean noodle is a hook, line and sinker into the Hoison sauce euphoria. Overall, the ranking of the Clay Pot Shrimp is similar to that of the Nebraska Corn Huskers.

(Post Script, this is an effing long post. I'll definitely be splitting these up for February. I should probably send the readers who see this to the end some sort of participation award.)

East Side Kings: A preface
A week ago, I would not be able to accurately describe how badly I wanted to dine at East Side Kings. Austin has a perpetual raging boner for that Asian-fusion empire, and I was among the drones who bought into the media hype. So, naturally, when I initiated a triple date (second shout out to my single ladies!) for Friday night, I didn't even present another dining option. Baby gets what baby wants.

Gerry was responsible for ordering the dishes as I was busy with a pitcher of Shiner. And let me say, he was well-advised in his ordering decisions: Chicken Tortilla Ramen, Tori Meshi, and Brussels Sprouts Salad.

Mouthgasms. Many, many mouthgasms.

Chicken Tortilla Ramen, Tori Meshi, Brussels Sprouts Salad: A comprehensive review
First, if you want an actual description of the dishes we ate, peep their menu.

This is an excellent way to eat fried vegetables and sweet bread.

The college-staple Ramen noodle coupled with a soft-boiled egg amidst a jubilee of brothy vegetables with splashes of Mexicana glory poses for an intense culinary and sexually adult experience. Treating the dishes like an around-the-world-in-40-minutes tasting, once your mouth explosion from the Ramen settles, the Tori Meshi chicken dish provides a motherly calmness of sweet and savory beauty - right on your tongue. Top off your tasteful experience with a veggie favorite that has been warped and twisted into a massively impressive mix of flavors. Should you want to die a person that has truly lived, my recommendation is to enjoy this meal lying down, with someone nearby in the event you slip into a food coma from all the insurmountable deliciousness.

On to the next foodscapade: The Month of Gerry's Native Land (Italian)

Get in my mouth: The Month of Thai

Alright, so before we take off on our foodscapades, the ground rules of resolution #6 have to be laid out.

1. One new restaurant per week. I always dreamt of having a grandmother who sends me money and cookies just for being me, but instead mine send me seasonal cards and garage sale gifts (love you Gram, love you Shana). Alas, our budget allows for only one new restaurant per week. 
2. A new dish each time. You know, to get cultured. Although, I might eat a multitude of Pad Thai and Panang Curry and call it "research". 
3. Only eat half the dish... Get real, Gerry. 
4. Take an obnoxious amount of photos and write a kitschy critique complete with 5-dollar words, a splash of wit and arbitrary adjectives. As if there was any other way.

Food porn.

Now that ground rules have been established, it's time to hunt down our top 4 eateries of the Asian persuasion. We took to the web and perused many reputable hubs for Thai restaurants in Austin. However, I may or may not have previously performed some extensive "research" at a number of Thai spots in town (Sway, Thai Passion, Madam Mam's, Saps, Satay, Titaya's, don't judge me), so those are out. 

Some would say I have a problem, but I'd like to call it helping the economy through an excessive expression of love. 

Anyway, after doing some actual research we quickly realized that there are a shit ton of Thai restaurants in Austin. Advice: Don't research food joints of any kind when your husband is hangry. 

One hour, sassy fight, and protein shake later, we mustered up the following list: 

• Pad Thai (The name sold me)
• SPIN Modern Thai Cuisine
• East Side Kings (A Hole in the Wall)
• Muangthai Thai Cuisine

These decisions were based on the following factors: the popularity of the establishment among our peers (so  tired of people who aren't me Instagramming SPIN's delicious-looking dishes), the number of grammatical errors and lack of spell check use on their website, the number of quirky plates present on the menu, and finally - the authenticity of their staff. 

Despite our slight racism, we have officially developed a platform for our first month of foodscapades. 

First up: Pad Thai. 

Doing all the wifey things in 2013.

Now that I'm married, I suppose it's customary to start get back into blogging, buy a puppy, engage in a new entrepreneurial/creative endeavor, host dinner parties, and attempt countless Pinterest projects as Gerry rolls his eyes incessantly.

Notice I didn't say "have a baby".

As I embrace wifehood and 2013 graces the world, I thought it would be appropriate (read: cliche) to make my resolutions public. I think I wanted to do this for some sort of public accountability and/or validity of my attempted commitments. That, or I thought it'd be the perfect post topic to re-emerge into the blogging world.

Enjoy judging my goals and finding better ones to tackle:

Resolution #1: When one freelance business dies, another one is born. I'm bringing The Sutherly Workshop to a halt. Whether permanently or temporarily, I'm not sure. I do know, however, that my co-worker and I will be launching a different entrepreneurial adventure very, very soon.

Resolution #2: I will become a self-proclaimed writer. Whether it be a book, at the magazine, or some famous internet troller stumbles upon my blog and loves it and wants to pay me to write silly things all day. Writing is my ultimate joy, and I'd like to make that complete.

Resolution #3: I want to lose 10lbs.

JK LOL.

Resolution #3, for real: I want to finish a sprint triathlon. How badass would I be?

Resolution #4: I want to start a small group bible study among my Austin peers. On top of getting further involved in our church family,  I think this would be an incredible growing experience for Gerry and I. Might be something that we pray about for a while. But, you know. It's there.

Resolution #5: I want to become an Austin youth soccer coach. I think taking on a team of kids in something that I love dearly would be a tremendously humbling experience.

Resolution #6: Become a better Austinite. Gerry and I have agreed that each month we will go on a food adventure. Example: January will be the month of Thai. Any time we go out we try a new Thai restaurant. Each month will be different. And I'm going to get so fat.

Whoop, there it is.

I am an engaged person.

Repeat: I am an engaged person. As of last night, I will no longer feel like a ridiculous psycho want-to-have-a-wedding-so-I-will-Pin-all-the-wedding-things lady when talking to vendors and clients. Typically, conversations are as follows:

Me: "Well, I'm getting married in November."
Client/Vendor/Passerby: "Ohhhhh my gosh! Congratulations! How exciting! Show me the ring!!!"
Me: (After they realize I have no ring to present) "Well, we're not engaged, per se."
Client/Vendor/Passerby: "...oh..." (Updates Facebook check-in to say "with Insane Wannabe Bride")

Embarrassment and justification ensues.

Now, though, I have tangible proof of my upcoming nuptials. And a story to back it up! Let's relive last night, shall we? I know you're itching to find out details.

T'was the night before Friday, and all through the apartment, not a thing was suspicious - not even my roommate...ment. As we're sitting on our couch that rests upon cinder blocks, Erin hopped up and decided to clean the bathroom, a feat she never voluntarily tackles. But you know, I cleaned that hair-laden vinyl hell last time so it was her turn. Needless to say, I didn't think anything of it.

Later, I will find out that she confessed to a thread of Facebook friends of mine that if she cleans more than one entity of our home in one sitting that I will become suspicious, due in part to the blatant fact that Erin cleans about twice a year.

After about 45 minutes of thorough scrubbing, she re-emerges in the living room, removes her rubber gloves and notifies me that Lennald (boyfriend's nickname) would like to go on a double date to South Congress Cafe on Friday night. She said that Gerry was already on board.

"Sure," I said, "I hope Gerry feels like paying as I have $36 dollars in my bank account." (I'm already petitioning to get a sponsored blog called "How to have a wedding for $20 dollars," so I'm obviously living out my blogging ambition...)

The Friday workday came and went, as usual. And I headed home to get changed for dinner at 7:30.

Sidenote: On the one hand, I love surprises. But on the other hand, I love ruining surprises. Permanently skeptical, I never snoop (cop out) but I thoroughly enjoy probing. I suppose I see this is a true testament to whether or not my friends and family love me as much as they say they do. I mean, it must be love if they plan and scheme for days and weeks just to fool me for one single moment. It's fun to be friends with a pain in the ass, isn't it?

Anyway, Gerry picked me up for dinner and we made our way to South Congress. Me, still totally unsuspecting at this point, just chatted casually with my soon-to-be and unbeknownst-to-me fiance. When the other half of this seemingly normal double date arrived, we were seated in a cozy booth adjacent to the bathrooms (lovely). As of the sit-down, Erin had already mentioned about 4 or 5 times that she was sweating profusely, and they must have their dial turned to the setting that resembles hell. Usually, I'm the one that is ever-sweaty, but Erin is known to be hyperbolic at unnecessary times. So, still clueless at this point.

Dinner ensued. I couldn't decide what I wanted to eat, wound up not choosing the scallops, poked Gerry's "keys" (ring box) at one point in the evening because he was wearing what appeared to be jeggings and it seemed his "keys" (ring box) were breaking skin. "Those are my keys you idiot!" says Gerry. Slight overreaction, but nothing out of the ordinary for that high-tempered New Yorker. Erin's texting feverishly through dinner, Lenny becomes condescending. Thus far this is shaping up to be a totally normal, completely standard hangout.

In retrospect, Gerry just let me consume whatever was in front of me. And that isn't normal. Baked Brie, crab cakes, sourdough bread, 6oz filet (medium-rare, duh), white wine, roasted garlic potatoes, DESSERT - without so much as a peep from my self-established nutritionist. Usually, he is sweetly concerned for my sensitive health and prefers I stick to my diet of celery sticks and baked salmon. But... screw that. We're at South Congress Cafe!

After I was rolled out of the booth, Erin wanted to snap some photos outside of the cafe. Still nothing to be suspicious about. What would have been suspicious, however, was if I had actually seen Katie Huddleston roaming around the front of the giant cafe window like a little lost puppy. Which, she was doing. But, alas, I didn't. And she made it to her destination in the nick of time. 

Erin and I did our usual 8 rounds of photos because one is never enough, and she encouraged Gerry and I to take one. I'm never opposed to documenting moments, so document away. Round 1 of picture-taking happened. Erin said, "Do you want another one?", then presented Gerry with a fierce batch of  wide "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" eyes. Right as we started round 2 of picture-taking, Gerry fell to the ground at such a rate I thought his leg might have been sliced off. I started to help him off the ground when I realized he was down on one knee.


With an open black velvet box. With an open black velvet box with a shiny ring inside of it.


"Is this a joke?" I said.
"Wait, you guys, is this real!?" I reiterated.

Skepticism first rushed into me because for the last month, my father has been pushing Gerry to go buy a Walmart ring and to "get the job done". And, might I add, I had just spoken with the designer and she said the ring was still in the process.

Obviously, it wasn't a joke. And it was very real.

After my brows un-furrowed, and after Gerry got done silently sitting on the ground, I put the ring on my finger. Jumping, screaming, hugging, and kissing (sorry, no crying) immediately followed. Then I heard a group of people scream something indecipherable from across the street. Staring at my hand, then back at Gerry, then back at my hand, I made my way across the street only to greet the familiar faces of Whitney, Katie, Whitley, Andrew, and a double-fisting hobo standing too close to Katie. I hugged everyone (even the hobo) our of sheer excitement and then began my round of phone calls to alert my loved ones.

All the while still staring at my hand.

Most of you know me. Therefore, most of you aren't surprised to find out that we've already booked a date, venue, taken care of the food, dress designer, officiant, our wedding stationary, hair and makeup. DJ, florist and dessert appointments are next week. What? While I had to endure a few months of crazy eyes and awkward conversation, it's nice not to have to hit the ground running!

All of you are invited. But only like 150-175 of you can eat. See you November 30th!