Revised Review for Workshop

Experimenting With Thai Kitchen Red Curry 10-minute Simmer Sauce

Although I should know better by now, I occasionally fool myself into thinking that I can create my own Thai food. I'm not a bad cook. I can make decent Indian-ish food with pre-made authentic curry sauces from Kroger. Just add the meat and the veggies, and you're good to go.

Not so much with Thai food. The first time I tried to make my own with a chili-paste mix I had bought at an Asian food store in Berlin was a complete disaster. To put it bluntly, it tasted kind of like feet. Not at all like the Panang Curry I had grown to obsess over and devour at every Thai restaurant I've ever been to. I swore to myself that I would never try to make my own Thai food again. Ever.

The other day at Kroger, I was seized by a sudden craving for creamy coconut milk and lemon grass, accompanied by a brief but fateful attack of amnesia. No problem, I thought, I can make my own! Enthusiastically, I grabbed the $ 3.29 Thai Kitchen Red Curry 10-minute Simmer Sauce in a glass (they didn't have Panang). The carefully designed picture on the jar showed a classy white bowl containing basil-garnished chicken pieces in a temptingly glowing, orangey sauce: just like the stuff you get at a restaurant. But this one was much cheaper, and I could pretend it was all home-cooked. – Really, how hard can it be.

Back at home, everything started out great. After throwing some frozen chicken breast in the pan, I added a mix of frozen bell peppers that I got for 88 cents, painstakingly avoiding the chopped onions that came with it. (Real bell peppers cost a fortune and are purchased only for special occasions.) Last, I dumped the curry sauce over my deliciously sizzling dish. I could smell the freshness of the lemon grass amidst the subtle scents of coconut cream and ginger. But it didn't seem spicy enough, so I added a little of my husband's favorite garlic-chili, and grabbed some chili powder from above the stove to enhance the flavor. In a small pot, I was also preparing some Jasmine rice.

Everything smelled amazing, and it tasted fantastic, too. As I was stirring and tasting and admiring my work, I felt a sense of pride wallow up in my self-conscious chest. Maybe I could make Thai food, after all!

Within 15 minutes, the meal was done, and my husband and I each poured a heaping spoon of exotic goodness over the freshly steamed rice in our bowls. 'Success!', I thought to myself as I grabbed my chopsticks to take a first bite.
And then I tasted it.

Hmmm…something wasn't right. What had smelled and tasted so appealing just a few seconds ago was suddenly transformed into something entirely unexpected. My husband gave me a few careful glances, but finally couldn't hold back. “It kind of tastes like Chicken and Dumplings,” he said, smiling apologetically.

It was true. Somehow, the rice and the curry chicken dish had merged into a strange union of Southern food. I didn't understand. What had happened to the chili and curry and ginger and lemon grass? And didn't Thai Kitchen claim that its products were authentic? The picture on the 11.9-ounce jar sure looked like it would be nothing short of a gourmet experience.

We finished our Red Curry Chicken and Dumplings quietly. I felt utterly defeated, and a little betrayed by Thai Kitchen and its promise of quality – tempting me, and then metamorphosing cruelly into a generic dish of fake Southern food.

Next time, I'm getting take-out.