The Spice of Life

Looking around the sexy, intimate atmosphere of ‘Spice I am’ in Darlinghurst, no one would ever guess this was in fact the home of my napkin eating shame.

But I am getting ahead of myself, let us start at the beginning.

My love for spicy food was first ignited after spending time in Thailand, endless thick aired days dedicated to sampling the exotic, authentic flavours of my favoured cuisine. In fact, I had some to fancy myself as somewhat of a spice-eating connoisseur. So when I heard of Spice I am, a local restaurant famed for their fiery flavours and diverse thai cuisine, I was first on board to test it out. 

While the menu at Spice I am is positively heaving with tempting options, I was blinded to all as my spice radar locked onto “GAENG PA GAI” and the small text which hovered, like a challenge, beside it: “VERY HOT”.  Ignoring the waiters apparent bemusement to my assurances that yes, I did indeed want the dish served extremely hot, and no, I did not require any rice – a decision I would come to heatedly regret. 

Eyeing up the curry as it arrived, lush with whole chili’s, my confidence remained intact.  But then, the first spoonful – that first mouth popping, sensational spoonful - saw heat spread like lava to envelope my mouth. Taken aback, I nonetheless continued, refusing to let the rising tingle on my tongue deter me from spicy satisfaction.  It was not until half way through the dish my façade began to crumble. Unable to hide the creeping blush tinting my cheeks, the rain of sweat glistening my brow, I had to ask the waiter to bring me some rice – and quickly. As I gulped down the last of the water in search of cooling relief, my mouth instead responded in anger, the initially piquant burning sensation of the curry now flaring to an all encompassing oral fury! Red rage, pulsating, burning, burning!! Gasping for air, my clammy hands grabbed desperately, shamefully, at the nearest source of liberation – a napkin. Stuffing my mouth full with its soothing, papery goodness, I looked up to see my red faced dining companion, red faced I suspect, not from the heat of his dish, but rather my indiscrete and reprehensible behaviour. My advice for future patrons is ask for 'mild'!