We’re on a roll here at Painting the Bridge world, two King Street eateries in one weekend. Will the fun never stop?
We had been to a matinee movie session because that is what children under 12 and grown ups over 55 do on weekends. It was a new French movie called Amour and it was a harrowing but bizarrely uplifting story about love and death. Afterwards we felt the need to take solace in food. Chedi Thai was next on the list but unfortunately the matinee session had kicked us back out onto King Street in the hiatus between Thai food shifts. We ummed and ahhed for a little while on the footpath. Should we go home, eat leftovers, and watch Breaking Bad? Not a bad option, but as our new motto is “No Surrender!” we decided that we would not retreat from the task. We’d just put it off a bit, by going to Glebe to visit the aged G-Rents with an offering of luridly coloured profiteroles. After a pleasant couple of hours spent waiting for photos of the great granddaughter to download onto the ipad, and discussing who had collapsed this week in the retirement village, we said our goodbyes and slipped off for a fortifying pilsener and a pretzel at a Czech bar in Glebe Point Road. Pretzels suddenly make sense when they are too hot to hold and you slather them with butter.
Fortified with beer and stodge we wandered back towards Newtown, through the University. As we strolled down the main mall, being harassed by willy-willys, we discussed what our approach to Thai restaurants should be. There were three basic options on the table:
- Go random,
- Always order No. 37 on the menu, or
- Always order Pad Thai.
We decided on option 2 for no very good reason. I just like the number 37.
We got to Chedi about 6:30 and chose a window table so we could watch the passers-by who are especially entertaining at this time of year. With shirtless crazy people and those in Mardi Gras pre-qualification mode to watch, who needs television?
After Strop had quizzed the waitress on the correct pronunciation of the word Chedi, and had been answered with the information that it refers to the pointy shaped thing on top of Thai temples, we opened our menus to discover that there were no numbers. This threw our plans into disarray and I decided that it meant we could order anything we wanted, but Strop stuck to the plan and immediately started counting. She takes her own rules seriously.
Number 37 turned out to be chilli basil duck, and that was enough to get my agreement. We also ordered a salad with spicy beef and a bottle of Tasmanian Pinot Grigio. The food came quickly and it was yummy. Suddenly we remembered what all the fuss is about with Thai food. When it’s good, it’s good. We were so chuffed that we decided to have dessert as well. As I looked over the menu again I noticed that chilli basil duck seemed to be a long way into the menu. It was at the bottom of the second page.
“Ah, Strop, are you sure that was number 37?” I asked.
“Yes. It’s the 37th main.”
“What about the starters?”
“I didn’t count them.”
“But, the rule is number 37 on the menu, not number 37 of the mains. What if you had an entree as a main. It stuffs everything up,” I said, perfectly reasonably.
“Shut up,” said Strop.
I won on the desserts though. My banana fritters were a clear winner over her black rice and coconut milk.
Still, overall Chedi Thai was very nice.
Next up might be a Japanese place which may have closed down. Not sure of it’s name.
it was indeed, quite delectable. How was Atom? … we’re still several weeks away from that well-regarded eatery, in spite of eating at another place on King Street (that wasn’t open 2 weeks ago) last night! More soon.