Crunchy Bottoms

Striking the caloric balance. Barely.

Tag Archives: spicy

Diandin Leluk

Mango Salad ($6.00)

Take me back a year or two ago and at the mention of ‘Thai food’, I’d just think ‘Thai Express’, ‘spicy’ and…well, ‘SPICY”.

Fortunately for me, time has done away with my sorry ignorance of cuisines and I now associate Thai food with Golden Mile Complex. Of course I’ve heard plenty of people making offhanded comments about how overrated and overhyped it is, that there are many more authentic Thai places scattered all over the island, and that I shouldn’t just keep going back to Golden Mile Complex because it’s boring! Well, its novelty for me hasn’t worn off yet.

But that’s probably also because I’m a masochist.

I can’t explain it, but there’s something extremely gratifying about sniveling and spilling copious amounts of tears and mucous, clawing at my dining partners in pain for help (who also begin clawing at me as their tongues go numb and are reduced to a blabbering mess) as I consume awesome, spicy, Thai food, like a Mango Salad.

And then having it practically tear through my system and blaze out of my behind the next day.

I’d do it again in a heartbeat.  Read more of this post

Bakerzin (United Square)

Bread Basket

The first time I went to Bakerzin was about three years ago, perhaps four. 

Now if I had known that they had a bread basket, and that helping yourself to copious amounts of ciabatta, whole grain and rye breads, and slotting them into an adorable roller-toaster of sorts was completely unlimited (provided you order a set meal of $13.80+), I’d have frequented them sooner – and perhaps would have made a huge dent in their revenue. 

Come on. It’s bread. Fresh bread with balsamic vinegar and olive oil to go with. Now we’re talking carbohydrates. 

I would admit though, that the main reason we ended up consuming about five to six plates of bread could really be blamed on my over-enthusiastic delight of dropping the slices into the toaster, watching them roll across the red-hot grill and waiting on bated breath for them to plonkplonkplonk and slide merrily down the little metal slope to a stop before my eager plate. It’s kind of like a grown-up version of how I used to slot every single coin I could find when I was a little tyke of 3 or 4 years-old into the air-conditioning vents of the family car, to the point where my parents had to practically yank them out and exhume the damn pipes before they could sell the vehicle off. I’ve always been a rascal, except that I’ve grown more practical and responsible over the years (I don’t pee in convenient stores and break toilet bowls anymore) – I made sure to finish every single slice. 

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