Yaowarat is actually the main road that cuts through Bangkok's Chinatown which is among the city's oldest districts having simultaneously evolved with the Grand Palace area where the original Chinatown was until the Chinese community there was displaced by the establishment of Siam's new capital city more than 200 years ago.
Yaowarat the Road was established years later in 1891 and has become synonymous with Bangkok's Chinatown, in fact referred to as Chinatown itself, and is now a famous food street, which is why it has been in my bucket list.
And an invitation to a workshop in the UNDP placed me within striking position at the Nouvo City Hotel where I was billeted which is just 3.9 kilometers from the street food capital of Bangkok.
But before Yaowarat is the Samsen Road area right where my hotel is which turned out to be a gem of a food street with family-run restaurants squeezed on both sides of narrow streets offering great food at backpacker prices like Pad Thai and fried spring rolls at Jeng Noodle for 100 baht, the amazing chicken dish and ice cream dessert at the Patonggo Cafe also at 100 baht (I came back for the 60 baht crispy pork), and the spicy chicken topped with Thai-style omelette at White Conner's for 80 baht.
The big event though is a trip to Yaowarat which I did on the night after the UNDP workshop, sore shoulder not withstanding, where I intended to start with the crisp oyster omelette at Nai Mong Hoi Thod but ended up at the equally famous Lek and Rut Seafood stand, and there tested a 150 baht oyster omelette [which is the only item I am willing to spend for from an expensive menu list] that turned out to be disappointingly bland and limp, and wondered how it would have been at Nai Mong Hoi Thod or at T and K Seafood on the other side.
So I walked as patches of sweat began to darken my green long sleeved shirt, gawking at an array of roasted duck and mound of dried fruits, snapping at a pedestrian walking through a fruit stand, getting lost in the wafting aroma of boiling soup and steamed chicken that competed with the unctuous smell of sewage and a sweaty horde.
The sight, sound and smell of Yaowarat at 7 pm is overwhelming and paralyzed me like the lobster on the grill, the noodle cart beside the dessert stand after the smoked ducks just too much for my senses, so I sought comfort in the familiarity of stacked durian fruits until the aroma of burning bread led me to a tiny street corner bakery where a piece of 15-baht toasted bread brought me back to my bearings.
That was when I noticed the locals queuing on something that must be good so I joined the line where 10 minutes later, a betel chewing "assistant" pointed me to a red plastic stool under a stainless table already shared by two young ladies where I was served a 70-baht bowl of white noodles with sliced crispy pork and assorted innards swimming in a peppery soup that I later found out to be the Kuay Jab (Thai pork noodles) served by the popular Nai-Ek Rolled Noodles, glad to have sampled another Yaowarat culinary landmark but not quite awed with the lingering strong paminta taste.
A big let-down though is the huge neon advertisement for shark fin soup which seems to be a classic Yaowarat fare too, and shark fin is in my personal list of unethical food that include dogs, cats, snakes, rats and wild game in general.
One visit is simply not enough for the full Yaowarat experience plus I was too full, the dull sensation in my left shoulder has become more than bearable, and I smelled like a Chinese kitchen so I took one last shot at Chinatown before negotiating a taxi fare back to the hotel.
The hotel bed never felt so comforting and the next day and the other day, I was enjoying the Frankenstein Protocol in Manila and Nueva Ecija.
Yaowarat the Road was established years later in 1891 and has become synonymous with Bangkok's Chinatown, in fact referred to as Chinatown itself, and is now a famous food street, which is why it has been in my bucket list.
And an invitation to a workshop in the UNDP placed me within striking position at the Nouvo City Hotel where I was billeted which is just 3.9 kilometers from the street food capital of Bangkok.
But before Yaowarat is the Samsen Road area right where my hotel is which turned out to be a gem of a food street with family-run restaurants squeezed on both sides of narrow streets offering great food at backpacker prices like Pad Thai and fried spring rolls at Jeng Noodle for 100 baht, the amazing chicken dish and ice cream dessert at the Patonggo Cafe also at 100 baht (I came back for the 60 baht crispy pork), and the spicy chicken topped with Thai-style omelette at White Conner's for 80 baht.
The big event though is a trip to Yaowarat which I did on the night after the UNDP workshop, sore shoulder not withstanding, where I intended to start with the crisp oyster omelette at Nai Mong Hoi Thod but ended up at the equally famous Lek and Rut Seafood stand, and there tested a 150 baht oyster omelette [which is the only item I am willing to spend for from an expensive menu list] that turned out to be disappointingly bland and limp, and wondered how it would have been at Nai Mong Hoi Thod or at T and K Seafood on the other side.
So I walked as patches of sweat began to darken my green long sleeved shirt, gawking at an array of roasted duck and mound of dried fruits, snapping at a pedestrian walking through a fruit stand, getting lost in the wafting aroma of boiling soup and steamed chicken that competed with the unctuous smell of sewage and a sweaty horde.
The sight, sound and smell of Yaowarat at 7 pm is overwhelming and paralyzed me like the lobster on the grill, the noodle cart beside the dessert stand after the smoked ducks just too much for my senses, so I sought comfort in the familiarity of stacked durian fruits until the aroma of burning bread led me to a tiny street corner bakery where a piece of 15-baht toasted bread brought me back to my bearings.
That was when I noticed the locals queuing on something that must be good so I joined the line where 10 minutes later, a betel chewing "assistant" pointed me to a red plastic stool under a stainless table already shared by two young ladies where I was served a 70-baht bowl of white noodles with sliced crispy pork and assorted innards swimming in a peppery soup that I later found out to be the Kuay Jab (Thai pork noodles) served by the popular Nai-Ek Rolled Noodles, glad to have sampled another Yaowarat culinary landmark but not quite awed with the lingering strong paminta taste.
A big let-down though is the huge neon advertisement for shark fin soup which seems to be a classic Yaowarat fare too, and shark fin is in my personal list of unethical food that include dogs, cats, snakes, rats and wild game in general.
One visit is simply not enough for the full Yaowarat experience plus I was too full, the dull sensation in my left shoulder has become more than bearable, and I smelled like a Chinese kitchen so I took one last shot at Chinatown before negotiating a taxi fare back to the hotel.
The hotel bed never felt so comforting and the next day and the other day, I was enjoying the Frankenstein Protocol in Manila and Nueva Ecija.
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