Fry Up v. Khao Tom Pla

I'm feeling awful. Probably due to the fact that, last night, I consumed an amount of tequila that would last a week in a small Mexican bar. So this morning, as with many hungover Saturday mornings in the past few years, my flatmate and I went to the local greasy spoon in the hope that a mountain of (veggies, look away now) greasy sausages, fatty bacon, hash browns, toast, other assorted fried things and copious cups of tea would make us feel better. I won't go into the details of what happened afterwards, but let's just say that it didn't.

So I am now of the opinion that London would be much improved if they opened little road-side stalls selling khao tom pla (boiled rice with fish - amazing comfort food, also healthy) on Saturday mornings, just like in good ol' B-K-K. I would probably be their only customer since, as chic as Thai food is in London, with even Chinese restaurants doing mediocre Thai buffets to cash in on the trend, I've yet to meet an English person who doesn't think the idea of rice at breakfast is weird. Oh, but consuming the half litre of oil that your full English breakfast is cooked in is fine. Oh dear, am missing home, something that seems to happen mostly when I think of the good food. Right, going to go to the local Chinese to get some Tom Kha Gai that will almost certainly be dissapointing, I should really learn to cook properly one of these days...