Im not going to sugar coat the fact that I’m still jet lagged almost a week after I returned to Bangkok. It doesn’t really bother me though, as I mentioned in my ‘Productivity’ post, I am the most useful when my brain is feeling awake and alert. This means that lately my writing and scheming has been happening to the sound of morning birdcall under the soft purple light that blankets the sky at dawn. After just undergoing a military coup and some heavy curfew hours, Bangkok has gone back to its normal functional chaos pretty quickly. The flow of people filtering in and out of the city’s centre is no longer deadlock with congestion at 8pm when people are trying to get home (before the 10pm curfew), and army tanks no longer sit armed at the front of my street. From what I’ve been hearing, Thailand is looking positively better with our rice farmers having been finally given a support plan for their undervalued work, and many a crooked politician locked up. This is definitely the touch of a militant clean-up service. As an observer, I’m still yet to tell if these are the right and necessary measures for a developing country with a less than functioning political infrastructure to figure out this democracy thing. Time will only tell I guess, but for now I feel the weight of economical uncertainty amongst the more entrepreneurial crowd.
Aside from feeling quite surreal, my day to day happenings have found me forever lost in thought. I’ve been floating through a daunting to-do list of things that have been waiting patiently for my return home. What’s also dreamy are these burgers that popped up in my sleep last night. I must be quite a little piggy because sometimes I find my taste memories entering my dream space. Not a bad thing at all! In light of all this dreaminess, I thought I’d share this food dream that played out for-realzies a week and a half ago in a hashtag Brooklyn-style, Parisian burger joint. The place is PNY (Paris New York) and it’s yet another one of those burger joints that flip out really decent burgers. I would say that master fry cook Spongebob himself would count this as A grade. The patty is made with enough fat and handled with delicate hands so that the meat stays tenderly its juicy cylinder. I got blue cheese and caramelised onions on mine, because I didn’t want to eat a burger in Paris that was American style! And of course the brioche bun was baked to a Frenchman’s particular standard. I’m not going to hate on this trend of dude food popping in every town and it’s neighbour, because I to think that people can do what they want. The real question is if they have passion and can do what ever ‘it’ is well. Then that’s all the more goodness for the world! P.S. My burger was darn tasty. It was the perfect precursor to a rap concert from The Doppelgangaz and a night ride home by bicycle.
Paris New York Hamburgers
96 Rue Oberkampf