I feel you burn inside me... yeah, yeah, yea-heeah!

Just got back from lunch with Jen the Cute One. (Sorry, Jen, I must use that distinction since I know too many Jens!) I hadn't seen her for about a year until I ran into her one morning when we were both on our way to class. She took time out of her busy midterm study schedule to try out the buffet at Pailin Thai with me.

The food wasn't fabulous. The only thing that's sticking with me is the salmon red curry, which burns in my belly still as curries are wont to do. They don't burn so much going down, just while they're sittin' pretty in the stomach, waiting for the acid to kick in. It's a war of the acids. It's quite lovely. It's the point just before queasiness, where there is a strange amount of sensation eminating from my innards. That probably sounds gross, but if you enjoy curries, you probably know what I mean.

Honestly, I am a recent curry convert. It took me years to discover my fondness for the strange, spicy substance. My Indian ex found it frustrating that I didn't appreciate the food his mom cooked, for instance, or that at the time I didn't even like non-curry Thai food. I learned, probably because it was such a problem in our relationship, but also I felt left out. When I came to college, I was still a picky eater, but I was trying to be healthier. It was hard to do when I liked such a narrow range of foods.

My second year at UW was the year I learned to love Thai. I'd had a taste toward the end of my first year with a guy I met on SparkMatch and never really wanted to meet again. Then I tried it in San Jose with my friend Sammy and liked it. Then my dear friends and roommates were able to include me in their somewhat frequent trips to local Thai restaurants, the Thai-ger Room being a favorite.

By now, I've probably tried most of the Thai places in my neighborhood, as well as a few others in different Seattle neighborhoods. I had some delicious green curry with avocados (!!!) at Araya, the vegan Thai restaurant on the 5000 block of University Way. I have nothin' but love for Thai iced tea and iced coffee. I have many happy memories of meals in the Thai-ger Room with friends and family.

The Ave's most beloved Thai place, however, remains a mystery for me. Thai Tom is said to be the bestest darn Thai food you can get in the area, but it's a goddamn hole-in-the-wall and I just can't see waiting half an hour for a place to sit in that cramped little restaurant when there is a perfectly decent Thai place two doors down. It'd have to be pretty fucking orgasmic to make it worth my wait, and reports on its ability to induce said pleasure seizures vary wildly. My close friends say it's not really that much better than our usual. One friend can't stand to eat anywhere else. Either way, I've never been out with someone who insisted on Thai Tom to the point that we actually waited and ate there. I suspect I never will.

It wasn't until very recently, however, that I discovered my fondness for Indian food. I can't even remember how it happened. Kevin loves Indian food, but it tends to be un-vegan enough that he doesn't go out for it often. (There is, he says, a purified butter in most things.) One day, after eating enough Thai curries to realize curry wasn't so bad as I once thought, I felt curious enough to suggest we try an Indian restaurant. My treat. Kevin wanted to try a place with the same name as a place he liked in Silicon Valley: Shalimar. It's actually Indian/Pakistani, and we had some pretty tasty dishes involving eggplant and something else, rice, and naan.

Later we tried Neelam's, which is across the street from Araya and serves vegan Indian food cooked in separate dishes from the non-vegetarian stuff. It was pretty tasty. The basmati rice was yellow from saffron; the main dishes were various legumes swimming in red tomato/pepper curried sauce. Our server pointed out that naan wasn't vegan and suggested an alternate bread.

We recently tried to recreate a chickpea curry at Kevin's house, which turned out rather decently, I think. I am learning the subtle differences between 'proper' chai masala and Americanized chai--the masala has black pepper in the mix, which is quite a kick for a sweetened tea. The Indian food is winning me over.

Today is a beautiful day for warm bellies. The sky is blue and the clouds are white and puffy. There is nothing to make the discontent in my stomach become anything worse than a lovers' quarrel; they'll make up in the end.