If you are or have ever been in the vicinity of a middle-aged woman, it is likely you have heard the old adage that once a woman reaches a certain age, she must choose between her body and her face. If a woman chooses her body (and many do), she has a slim and toned physique at the expense of her face, which might end up looking a bit gaunt or hollow. A woman who chooses her face, well, you can imagine that must also come at some sort of price. The basic point is, every woman must pay. Unless you are Halle Berry, you can’t have both.
It has been pointed out to me a couple of times that I, too, am a woman. And, though I am no Helen of Troy, and my face only capable of launching a dinghy at best (and maybe a couple of rubber duckies), I, too, have had to make this onerous decision: my face or my body?
You know what I choose. And you would too, if you had any sort of brain. On the one hand, you starve and work and sweat in order to walk into a store and not have the salesgirl titter behind her hand when you ask her if they have your size. On the other, well, you are starving and working and sweating. STARVING, mind you. Did I mention you are starving?
“Face” people have it easy. “Face” people can stuff their pieholes with anything they please, and then claim they are simply smoothing out their lines and incipient wrinkles via internal injections of delicious, unctuous fat. “Face” people have it all figured out. “Face” people are geniuses. I choose my face.
The best way to cultivate your youthfully plump visage? Why, fatty pig trotter (khao kha moo) on rice, obviously. Braised for two hours in pork broth, plopped atop a juice-soaked bed of white rice and paired with a handful of braised Chinese kale with a pinch of pickled mustard greens — this is the food that brings all the fat you could ever hope for. And if that fat ends up somewhere other than your face, well, try try again. It will get there eventually.
Across from Somerset on Sukhumvit 16, Khun Sasinee gets up at 5 in the morning and commutes from her home in Minburi in order to give her pig’s trotters enough time to soften before opening up shop at 8am. Until 2:30 in the afternoon, she serves portions of khao kha moo (broth in a bowl optional) to a steady stream of office workers and regulars drawn to her reliably fatty, filling food. With a pinch of fresh garlic and a fresh chili or two, her pork leg is reason enough to choose your face.
11 responses to “I choose my face”
This post made me laugh a little, as I remember our talk about age only a week ago 🙂
That’s right! I was thinking of that too. Hope you had a good trip back!
I did thanks. But after discovering your blog I miss Thailand even more. You write so well, that it’s a great read even if I don’t have a chance to visit the stalls you write about. I think a visit to my local Asian supermarket is due.
Maybe another series of Thailand-focused stories are due?
isn’t that dish basically all the same wherever you go?
Body vs Face? Too late for me to choose. I’ll just focus on keeping my teeth.
Haha. The better to eat food with!
When I was in Thailand for a month, and I was sick … and I weighed 6kgs less than I do now – I looked terrible … now I am fatter my face looks 20 years younger! So I completely concur, dear BKG!
We “face” people must stick together.
YES!! one day we will dine together!