"The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain." Jennifer Anniston
I love Thai food. A lot.
So, when Major Dan and the Michigan Man told me they were at Modrý Zub Noodle Bar, I hustled over there to meet them after work.I had them put my order in so it would be ready when I got there.
It's hard to believe that it was 18 months ago that I wrote my previous post about this spot.The menu changed quite a great deal since then, with many new additions and some subtractions. And they still offer a small sushi selection, which I've never tried.
They layout of this mostly Thai restaurant is fairly unique. There is a cafe-style dining area up front, with big windows looking out on a street near Wenceslas Square.In the back, there is an open kitchen with counter and cash register where you can order food to go. There are a few seats where you can eat in a more fast food-style setting.
Michigan Man ordered the Phad Thai with chicken (155 CZK).
Phad Thai is probably my favorite Thai dish. But I didn't get it myself because I'd almost always been disappointed with the total blandness of Modrý Zub's version. Someone once told me it depended who was cooking, and I did once have a good version there.
Whatever the reason, the Phad Thai on this night was surprisingly good. I only had one bite, but it had just the right amount of citrus sourness and also the perfect hint of sweetness. It was a very generous portion. I was sorry I didn't order it myself.
Instead, I got the Lab Kai, a spicy chicken salad. It was chicken with red chilies, lime juice, fish sauce, red and green onions, and cilantro.
Seeing red
The last time I got this, I asked them to tone down the heat. But I didn't get a chance this time because I had ordered ahead and forgot to mention it.
It was very tasty. And it burned. A lot. At a certain point, I picked up a menu to see what the hotness rating was for the dish. But my vision was badly blurred by tears. I had a temporary case of Lab Kai blindness.
On the Internet menu, the dish was rated for spiciness with two exclamation points, with three being the maximum. After my blindness had cleared, I saw on the inhouse menu that the Lab Kai was rated with only one chili pepper symbol out of three. I thought it deserved three.
At this point, I'll digress. I went back another time by myself to try a non-spicy dish. I had the Phad Sen Mi (165 CZK). It was described as Chinese rice noodles with vegetables and beef.

In our group outing, Major Dan ordered a dish with the highest heat rating on the menu, the Phad Khi Mao with beef (185 CZK). It had glass noodles, bamboo shoots, onions, Thai basil, red and green chilies, cilantro, and bean sprouts.

I took one bite. It tasted good. The flavor of the Thai basil stood out. And then they hit me. Those chilies. It was so spicy, it instantly brought on several hiccups. And I never get hiccups.
The Major is no Thai food prude. He is a man who travels far and wide, to Thailand and beyond, seeking out the sharp thrill of spice. A Vasco Da Gama of the modern age.
And after a few bites of his dinner, he damn near cried. His eyes were rimmed with red. I actually thought he would like this.
"This is the spiciest Thai food I've ever had," he said. "I had this same dish here last June, and it was nothing compared to this."
"Wow," I thought. "He's impressed."
"I can't finish this. It's just too hot."
I was shocked. I'd thought nothing could be too spicy for him. He'd eaten less than half. And he was not happy about it. There were just way too many chilies in there. There were big slices, but it also had finely chopped red ones, seeds and all, well-mixed in. There was no avoiding them.

We did what we could to cool the fire with half-liters of Pilsner Urquell (45 CZK each). But they only offered temporary respite. The pain dissipated as long as I was sipping the stuff. But the moment I stopped, the pain came roaring back.
It was not subsiding. The roof of my mouth felt like it had burned off. I needed to take further palliative measures.
I looked over at the dessert case. There was a last, lonely slice of cheese cake. I tend not to order the last piece of a cake out of concern for its freshness.
There was something called a nougat cake, which intrigued me. It looked homemade.


And best of all, it was the perfect antidote to the chilies. The smooth chocolate and whipped cream quickly quelled the fire, and I could wipe away my tears.

When it all goes up in smoke, you need time before you can muster the courage to try again.
Whether you got burned by Brad Pitt or Lab Kai.
Modrý Zub Noodle Bar
Jindřišská 5
Prague 1
Tel. (+420) 222 212 622
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