Warung Teddy’s is a Thai restaurant down on the east side of Kenting Main Street with humble deco. I didn’t know Teddy, but I did know “warung”. It’s a Southeast Asian term; it stands for place for the locals to eat, to social, and to hang around; apparently not for the tourists. I was hungry by the time I saw the “Warung” on the sign. I expected authentic Thai foods served in sauces made with shrimp paste, lemon leaves, Siamese ginger, coconut milk, and whole package of spices, so I could gulp down one metric ton of steamed rice to stop the desperate hunger.
We ordered Thai fried chicken, pan fried cabbage, pan fried flat noodles, and several others that didn’t occupy my memory. I also ordered myself a Tiger draft beer. The meal was great despite the tastes were not as authentic as they should be. But hey, it was tourism spot and the store rent was not less than the prime financial district in Taipei. I could understand how hard it must had been for the store owner to keep the due process of Thai cooking while maintaining viable profit.
Don’t make a mistake that I like Tiger beers. Honestly, it sucks.
Stars at night were more abundant and brighter in Kenting compared to Taipei. The diving lodge had a large yard and pool area that buffered the noise from the Main Street. Then firework started in the sky, I could make out the sparking flares in low sky. I like firework; everyone likes firework. It’s pretty, it’s pleasure enhancing, and it’s free entertainment. That firework apparently was sponsored by some low budgeted entity. For the next few days of stay, that firework continued to blast for so long at night that it turned out to be annoying.
I was doing what a tourist should do. Sitting by the pool, wearing leisure clothes as if I was afraid that people passing by could not tell that I was on vacation, and playing brain dead. We worked our ass off for this, aren’t we.
And I begin meditating, what foods can represent Kenting? It’s an ocean front township with mountain ridges in behind; there got to be plenty of resources and history of local foods. On the Kenting Main Street I saw Thai foods, junk food chains, and many other cuisines originated in foreign states. But what about Kenting? My poor knowledge about history tells me that there were people already living in Kenting long before Chinese immigrants set their feet on Taiwan. I did walked by a street side stool selling aboriginal tribal BBQ pork served in shish kebab style; one for NT50. I wanted to try, but the time I witnessed the rusty grill rack, I backed down.