I know that when you saw the title of this post you thought I had started abusing the ladyboys already, but sadly I'm just talking about the cuisine of Bangkok. I'm sort of glad that I live in a country that isn't big on street food. If it was, I think I'd have crossed into clinical obesity a while ago.

In Tokyo, everything was so expensive that it sort of forced me to keep myself in check. Street food isn't as popular there--more often than not the fast food is served out of actual establishments that are so small that only a few people can be in them at any one time.

There's a street that caters to businessmen on their way home from work who eat giant bowls of ramen standing up. It's next to the train station, and is called "piss alley" (check out these awesome pics), because the businessmen tend to get drunk and redfaced and urinate on a nearby wall before stumbling onto their trains.

We went there one night and had tiny (by Irish standards) beers and skewers of chicken, cooked on a grill right in front of us. Our host, Shinya, excitedly whispered to us that the proprietor of the place was Japanese mafia. The skewers of chicken were pretty intense--one was just chicken hearts. Another was just liver. When the skewer was presented to us that was just chicken cartilage, I declared that my mother would love the place. The next one was just chicken skin, and I declared that my father would love the place. If the beers were just a tad bit larger or came in a hat with funnels and straws, my entire family could have spent the rest of their lives there.

I was reminded of the Tokyo street scene tonight when I ventured out of my scandalously nice hotel and onto the streets of Bangkok. This is a city that takes their street food seriously. This is a city that I could reach a triple digit BMI in. They just park their carts anywhere and everywhere and start cooking. After wandering the streets, alone, jetlagged and sweaty, I finally worked up the nerve to stop at one of the bustling stalls filled with unidentifiable meats. I pointed vaguely at something and was served a plate of pork and chili and basil over rice. For 25 baht. Yes, friends, I just had dinner for €0.50.

I sat there and watched them cook for a while. My mother used to dream about setting up a roach coach. I think she worked it out of her system by cooking on a regular basis for the local homeless shelter, but after seeing the setup they have here (check these pics), I could almost imagine myself dumping my so-called career, investing in a few plastic tables and chairs and a large number of wooden skewers and getting down to business.