One Chick’s Pad
When I worked at the Brick-Oven in Jackson, Pad Thai was one of my favorite pasta dishes. The chefs made the peanut sauce from scratch, and if they would have let me, I could have eaten it by the bowlful all by itself.
Even after I stopped working, David and I still ate there pretty regularly. Often, we went just because their Pad Thai was the best in town. When I ordered it, I never called it Pad Thai, and it took me a long time to realize that the reason our server chuckled when I ordered was that I still referred to the dish in kitchen-speak: I asked for “shrimp pad” instead of “Pad Thai with Shrimp,” as it was listed on the menu. I’m sure it sounded funny coming from the wrong side of the table.
Once, when I first started waiting tables, a restaurant reviewer and his wife sat at one of my tables, (I didn’t know who he was until later) and he ordered Pad Thai with Chicken. A little while after I brought it to him, I went back to the table to see how they were doing and found him flicking the green onions from the top of his pasta onto the table in front of him. When I asked if something were the matter, he went into this tirade about how much he hated green onions and insisted that he had ordered the Pad Thai without them. I didn’t argue–the customer is always right, after all–and asked if I could bring him something else. He declared that he’d solved the problem himself; I needn’t worry about fixing it. When I returned with the manager on duty, I found empty chairs around their green-onion-decorated table and cash in the middle–not even enough to cover the cost of the meal.
I was horrified that any grown man (he was probably my grandfather’s age) would act so ridiculously about something so trivial, but when I found out he wrote restaurant reviews, I was certain I would be fired. My manager was nice, but he did ask me numerous times if I was sure that he hadn’t asked for the Pad Thai without green onions. I have never been so sure of anything, but by then it seemed a bit irrelevant; the damage was done.
The following week, an anonymous food column appeared in the local paper giving the restaurant a glowing review; the writer was especially complimentary of the service. I will never be certain that he wrote it, but whenever I make this dish, I always wonder, and I cover my Pad Thai in green onions, just for good measure. And, I call it whatever I like.
Here’s my recipe:
Pad Thai, or Chicken Pad, or One Chick’s Pad
2 cups cooked chicken, diced (I had more leftovers from the Tandoori Chicken, but any grilled or sauteed breasts will do)
1 1/2 cups peanut sauce (see the recipe below in the Tuesday’s post)
A handful of snow peas
1/2 cup roasted peanuts, chopped finely
1/2 cup bean sprouts
1 carrot, shredded
1/2 cup green onions, chopped
3/4 pound flat rice noodles or linguine
Cook the pasta until tender; drain and set aside. In a large skillet, heat the peanut sauce over medium-low. Add the chicken and snow peas and stir to coat. Cook just until the snow peas are beginning to soften, about 5 minutes. Pile a nest of noodles on each plate, and pour the sauced chicken over. Top with bean sprouts, carrot, green onions (as many as you like!), and crushed peanuts.