The Best Meal of My Trip Cost Fifty Baht

I spent my first few days in Bangkok eating at places with big laminated menus and photos of every dish. The food was fine. Forgettable, but fine. Then one night I wandered into Yaowarat, the Chinatown end, and everything changed.

The whole street was neon and steam and noise. Woks roaring, motorbikes weaving through the crowd, old men playing cards on plastic tables. I had no idea what to order, so I did the only sensible thing and joined the longest queue I could find. It was a tiny boat noodle stall run by a woman who had clearly been doing this for thirty years.

Fifty baht. That is about a pound. The bowl she handed me was dark and rich and a little bit spicy, with tender pork and crispy bits on top, and I ate it standing up on the pavement because there was nowhere to sit. It was, genuinely, one of the best things I have ever eaten. I went back the next night and had two.

That was the moment I stopped being nervous about street food. The busy stalls are busy for a reason. The locals are not queuing at the empty air-conditioned place with the tourist menu. They are here, on a plastic stool, eating the good stuff for the price of nothing. Follow them. You will eat better than you ever have.