Do they make a Hot Pocket this flavor?

Ok, so this posting is long overdue seeing as how I
was in Thailand a month ago and my memory gets weaker
every Friday/Saturday (why is that?).  I have been
invited to do a guest blog about an experience I had
during my visit that will be hard to forget: Thai
Drunk Food.

Now if you have ever decided to drink more alcohol
than your mother would like you to (which 99.99%
percent of the 5 people reading this have), you should
have a pretty good idea about Drunk Food.  It’s that
last-ditch effort to compensate for all the alcohol in
your stomach by filling it up with the most unhealthy
yet delicious meal you can find at 2:30 A.M. (like
greasy pizza or Del Taco).  When I lived and schooled
in Davis, a popular spot was the 24-hour convenience
store a few blocks from the bars that offered expired
food at twice the price.  Of course, after a long
night of drinking, it was like Thanksgiving dinner in
there.  My point is, at that time of night and in that
condition, we all know we are willing to eat our own
fists if they were dipped in ranch dressing.

Now that we have been reminded of that state we often
find ourselves in, I will take you back to a few weeks
ago in the Ratchada district of Bangkok, where John
and I spent a lovely night out with two wacky Thai
girls.  We had just blown an ass load of baht drinking
at the popular 400 Club and had decided we were at our
limit.  The four of us worked our way down the stairs
and into the busy streets of Bangkok.  While we
scanned the area for available taxis, my eyes stopped
on a man riding a red motorcycle with a glass covered
side car.  A small light in the glass case allowed me
to check out who was riding shotgun with our late
night entrepreneur: large tins of various fried bugs.
Ew.  So I bump John on the shoulder and point the
sidecar and go “Look man!  Thai drunk food!”  John
pretends to think I am funny and laughs but then the
girls notice my actions and run over to the cart in
excitement.  They start pointing to different trays
and the man fills a little French fry tray with each
bug they desire.  Then he pours some sort of powdered
seasoning over them and suddenly our lady-friends are
proud owners of an insect massacre.

We hop in a taxi and the girls start going at them.
John and I look at each other like they had just
pulled knives on us and wonder where this is going to
head.  Then, before I knew it, the girl next to me is
popping Jiminy Cricket into my mouth.  I have no
choice but to chomp down on it and bust him apart into
a mess of wings, legs and shell (thankfully no top hat
and cane).  Hmmm, not bad.  A little grainy, but the
seasoning kinda makes it taste like popcorn.  She pops
another one in.  This one is a grub of some sort.  It
explodes in my mouth like a flavor bomb, releasing his
gooey content all over my tongue.  Ok, that wasn’t
cool.  I’m out.  She pops one more in.  By now I am
just trying to be nice and pretend I am enjoying them
while I gulp them down before I realize what I am
chewing.

Eventually I draw the line and decide I’m full and the
girls polish off the rest.  I wonder to myself, if
they came to the US, how would they survive at 2:00
A.M.?  While we are all heading to Jack in the Box,
would they be running into the back alleys and fields
searching out the perfect meal?  Ok, probably not.
But that is just a glimpse of what’s happening on the
other side of the world.  And I am happy I tried it.
Hell, I’ll do it again… so long as I have had my
bottle of Johnny Black and a few tall Singhas.

~ Frenchy

[Note: Pictures are from a different day, but exactly
the same concept]