I kind of wish I knew how to add MSG to things, because then this dish might have tasted better. The good thing about it, though, is that it’s a little bit gross, so after one serving you’re good to go and will probably feel nauseated for another hour.
I didn’t follow a recipe this time. Instead, in an uncharacteristic burst of culinary confidence, I winged it. So this shit’s original.
Here are things I purchased at a local, overpriced organic grocery store:
• one green bell pepper
• one shallot (what are shallots? They’re like tiny onions pretending to be garlic. ALSO, I just looked up a picture…are scallions the tops of shallots? My mind is blown)
• one clove garlic
• Pad Thai sauce (premade. That’s right. They don’t call me Sandra Lee for nothin’)
• brown rice noodles
• hydroponically grown alfalfa sprouts (that just means the place where I was shopping is pompous)
Here are things that I used and already had:
• some parsley (to help the plant feel like it has a purpose in the world aside from almost dying and then being brought back to life in a rain shower)
• an egg (you know how you always find pieces of egg in your takeout, and you kind of like it? That’s why)
• olive oil
Boil the nooders. I mean, noodles. Only for like five minutes. Don’t touch them once you drain them because not only are they flaming-lava hot, they’ll also stick to your fingers and continue to burn them even after you shake your hand furiously.
While the noodles are draining somewhere else, pour some olive oil into your pot and add in some minced shallot and a few cloves of minced garlic. You might want to add in a hefty amount or cook them for less time, because as soon as I added in the noodles and other ingredients, the shallot and garlic disappeared. Like, fully disintegrated or something.
I cooked the minced stuff for about 5 minutes before adding in some parsley, in an attempt to make the dish taste more—fresh? Then I added in chopped green pepper, cooked that for about 5-10 more minutes, and then added in my premade Pad Thai sauce.
Scramble an egg or two in a nearby pan, and kind of overcook it to mimic the chewy eggness found in restaurants. Add the egg in towards the end.
I added in the noodles, which had solidified into a single block much like their original packaged form. This took some finagling to fix. I’d recommend making exaggerated stirring motions with a metal fork.
I tasted the dish, was unimpressed, added in some soy sauce and cayenne pepper, and then decided that I didn’t care. What’s that slightly sweet, slightly tangy artificial taste found in packaged Asian foods? Do you know what I’m talking about, or do I have a brain tumor? I can’t get that taste out of my mouth.
Top the dish with your alfalfa sprouts, which I can only assume are the same thing as bean sprouts. I now have no money and way too many bean sprouts. I don’t recommend adding chopped peanuts, and here’s why:
A list of things that peanuts belong with
1. Jelly, when they’re mashed up
2. Elephants in a circus
3. Raisins and other nut varieties in trail mix
4. Chocolate, on top of them
5. Whatever’s in a Snickers bar
A list of things that peanuts do not belong with
1. Anyone with a peanut allergy
2. Strangers’ greasy fingers when the nuts are sitting in a communal trough at a bar
3. The travesty that is circus peanuts, which don’t actually contain peanuts—just Styrofoam
4. Small, dumb things like children who choke easily
5. Savory dishes, such as noodles
So, please, forget the peanuts, unless you like an unexpected and horrifying crunch that is impossible to extract with any utensil, fingers included. They’re almost as bad as raisins in cookies or bread pudding, but that’s another post entirely…