Rodents are simply a master of taste

There was a news report last week about the arrest on the Cambodian border of a gentleman smuggling 800kgs of dead rats. Imagine that. There are plenty of ways to make money through smuggling, but bootlegging deceased rodents is not one that immediately springs to mind.

What is sometimes forgotten is that throughout Southeast Asia many regard roasted rodents as a delicacy. These rats are somewhat different to those fearsome creatures that regularly sneak out of Bangkok’s sewers, worthy of a B grade horror movie. The edible field rats, known in Thailand as noo phook (Bandicoot rats), are in fact quite a lucrative business, especially in rural areas.

Gourmets will be pleased to learn that apart from the roasted variety, you can have rats poached, baked, grilled, fried or even sautéed. But don’t expect to see “Today’s Rat Special” on the menu at the Oriental. If you do fancy a taste of rat make sure it’s well done or you may have a bad case of the Rat’s Revenge, or to use the official medical term, the Galloping Trots.

It is not easy being a rat in Thailand. Back in 2008, the Thai Ministry of Public of Health chose to launch a national anti-rodent campaign, which seemed a trifle perverse considering it was the Year of the Rat. The sudden concern over the rodent population seemed to have been sparked by dozens of overweight rats spotted partying within the ministry compound. This was not exactly a great advertisement for the ministry in charge of health matters.

There were unsubstantiated reports that the high-profile response may have been prompted by some of the rogue rodents having the temerity to venture into the office of the boss where they enjoyed a bit of a knees-up.

There’s a rat in the kitchen…

There was a period at my previous Bangkok residence when I had an ongoing mental battle with a cheeky rat which insisted on visiting the kitchen. It was almost as if it was making fun of me as its tail disappeared behind the saucepans when I got home from work.

One night while preparing a snack of mushrooms on toast, I left the kitchen momentarily only to discover the rat scurrying off with a mouthful of mushrooms. That was the last straw. The words of the old UB40 song came to mind: “I’m gonna get that rat, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

The next day I returned from the supermarket clutching a can of anti-rat glue. The idea is that you stick the glue on a large piece of cardboard, add some bait and the rat obliges by getting stuck in the glue. Of course, it didn’t work. Bangkok rodents are far too smart to fall for the pathetic glue trick. The glue fooled a couple of cockroaches and unidentified crawling things, but Roland Rat was laughing its head off. The only outcome was that I got my hands covered in glue.

Game, set and rats

Rodents turn up in the most unexpected places. Some years ago I was playing tennis on a Sukhumvit court which has long since made way for a condominium. During a rare rally, a giant rat raced onto the court, pursued by assorted ballboys waving rackets. After a frantic chase around the court, the creature eventually became tangled up in the net. Here the chase ended as one of the boys whacked it with an impressive forehand smash. The kids triumphantly carried the rat off the court and we were allowed to proceed with our game, which seemed rather tame after all that excitement.

It was the only time I have experienced “Rat Stopped Play”. I bet that never happens to Roger Federer.

Stage fright

Nearly everyone in Thailand has probably experienced close encounters with a large rat. I was once in a Sukhumvit restaurant when a rodent fell out of the rafters and landed on the head of an English lady sitting at a nearby table. She understandably shrieked as the rat then plopped into her plate, spraying other customers with soup of the day, before scampering off. The embarrassed owner offered the distraught customer a free meal, but she declined, explaining she had lost her appetite.

You can’t escape rodents. Many moons ago, I was sitting in a dull Patpong bar when a large rat jumped on the stage and started dancing. It certainly livened things up as the dancing girls squealed in classic fashion. After unsuccessfully attempting to boot the wretched rodent into the audience, the dancers leapt onto their respective poles while the rodent performed some commendable break-dancing, wiggling its feet up in the air.

Alas, the rat did not pass the audition. Its versatile performance failed to impress the bar owner, who ended the rodent’s brief dancing career with a well-aimed bottle of Singha.

Pet sounds

Some become extremely fond of rodents. In Fawlty Towers, few will forget Manuel’s beloved pet, which he believes is a “Siberian Hamster”, but turns out to be a common rat and makes an untimely appearance in the hotel kitchen under the nose of a health inspector. Michael Jackson famously performed a love song about a rat, entitled Ben. It’s quite touching actually, with lyrics including “We’ve found what we are looking for” and “You’ve got a friend in me”. On that note, it’s time for lunch … ratatouille perhaps?