Yeah, there I sat at my white plastic table, soaking up the noisy, fluorescent-lit ambience – fanning myself, sipping an ice cold Tiger Beer, nibbling on some crisp cucumbers and melon, waiting on my food, watching this guy cook over ferociously hot open coals. Who was I kidding? HE was the one having an authentic experience! I was just watching.
I couldn’t help noticing how the look on his face is extreme, he is struggling with the heat; but look at his towel – if that were me, I’d have sweat through it hours ago. My brow would be dripping. I’d be guzzling water, maybe breathing a bit hard. I’d last maybe ten minutes. Who knows how many hours he puts in every night?
Those were the most amazing chicken satays I’ve ever tasted. Peanut sauce to die for!