I have a friend who is a senior solicitor in a big evil corporate law firm. She doesn't particularly like it, but they pay her a ridiculous amount of money, apparently. She's heading overseas shortly so on Friday we had a farewell lunch. I emailed her asking where she'd like to go since she's the one leaving, and I was expecting that maybe we'd splash out for it and have one of those swanky corporatey lunches. She responded saying that one thing she'd like to do before leaving Wellington, is to have a dirty cheap roti chenai at Satay Kingdom (Left Bank Arcade, Cuba St). Malaysian food is everywhere around this city - my favourites are R & S Satay noodle house and Roti Chennai.
Satay Kingdom I frequented as a poor student, until I heard a rumour that on TV watchdog show Target they were caught for pouring curry sauce back into the pot after clearing the plates off tables. It's pretty filthy, but I was keen. If I was hungover, maybe it would have gone down better, but the roti was greasy and my vege curry, whilst vegetable laden, came in a watery thin sauce. I enjoyed filling said-friend in on the goss while getting my hands dirty, but good god I felt ill afterwards. It's cheap, which is something, so I give it a 3 out of 10 (for nostalgia reasons if nothing else).
I didn't do myself any favours by then having mexican for dinner, followed by a 3am kebab. The drunk eating habit that I'm currently cranking has escalated - last week my flatmate and I got kebabs, and then while we were finishing them in the kitchen, I decided I was still hungry so devoured the half eaten bowl of someone else's cold two-minute noodles that were on the bench. When my other flatmate found that out in the morning, he told me I was like a drunk labrador. The only other time I've been likened to a dog was in third form when the boys in my class nicknamed me Otis. Time to reign it in.