Peter Green

Well, it's satisfying to get at least a brief flurry of posting up there. I'm waiting on my limo for the flight to Part V, so we'll see how well I keep up with things for the next week. Cheers!

Waffling over important issues Here’s a pressing question that s been causing me to lose sleep. I just spotted this in a photo I was about to bypass from our walk home earlier. What, exactly, is the origin of the waffle in Asian culture? In Korea, it’s ubiquitous. Any time I pass to focus (a relatively rare occurrence, I will admit) I spy waffles. They just pop up. Likewise, in Thailand, every BTS station would appear to have a stand selling waffles, as does every shopping mall (and that’s a lot of malls). And, of course, all fans of Heroes know that the waffle is an integral part of Japanese culture (along with ikebana and bowling). Curiously, Wikipedia, which is usually holding more information than we need, doesn’t mention any Asian waffle culture other than Hong Kong. How did the waffle find itself so prominent this far East of its traditional ironing grounds in Western Europe? Inquiring minds want to know.

Good question on the seeds. I was trying to figure that out, too. I'll send a note to Peter. I probably won't get to Seoul in the Fall (I need to be at the WGF in Bangkok then, and after that's the Elephant Round-Up), but you never know where I'm going to turn up. (And I expect a solid write-up from you!)

Hi, Doddie! Remember, being in Korea means that you're never too far away from dried squid.

Interlude – Big Game I’d mentioned in the last post that the Koreans are big on games. The Koreans are really big on games. There are a number of aspects to this. First, let’s consider drinking games. Given that, if you’re Korean, you’re going to be spending a certain portion of your life in the company of other Koreans enjoying the benefits of alcohol, you need things to amuse yourself. Games are big here. I’ve only covered a few. There are the riddle games, the singing games, and then there are the “things to do with soju bottle cap” games. In one, you take the twisted ring element strand, hold it firmly, and try to twack off the rest of the cap. This is passed about until the cap is off, with drinks for the losers. By the time the cap does come off, the bottle is finished, so you then can get a new cap to play with. Another game includes guessing the number under the cap. Same result. One item that caught my eye was a new game that Jason and Peter had brought back from Thailand. In this game, you take a nail, and, with one hit, drive it into the stump. If you miss, you take a slug of soju and try again. I’m waiting for this to take off here. At that point I expect to start seeing a lot of people with bandaged thumbs. (Note: drinking games deserves a thread of its own, but feel free to jump in here with others) Scud and I watched the Korean Starcraft championship channel on tv while kicking back after lunch. Screaming crowds; thunder sticks; adolescents with bad skin sweating profusely over the controls; and the commentators roaring with a passion even Italian football fans can’t come close to. It’s pretty intense. Scud cooled down from the excitement with a Big Jaws shark ice cream bar (it was grey flavour). Myself, well, there was that plastic bottle of makkeoli chilling in the fridge. We'll come back to this topic later, when we ponder the importance of dried squid tentacles in baseball.

March 20 – Age has its privilige I woke the next day to health. It’s a wonderful feeling to be well after having suffered. It almost makes the suffering worthwhile. Almost. I put this recovery down in part to the sundaeguk, and in part to liberal doses of a Korean drink that looked very much like their yogurt shots, but was labeled “bulgureesu”. I tried looking this up on the ‘net, but all I can find are entries related to things you would use on your car’s headlights. I don’t think that’s it…..But I could be wrong. If you’re used to me, you know I have certain “needs” in terms of equipment. My first order of business now that I was more ambulatory was to check out the gadget shop next door to Jason’s place. I was feeling the need for another power bar, and I could see that this was going to be a trip with lots of photos. (Note: duct tape on the G4 thanks to Serena’s somewhat incautious stress testing of the laptop just before the trip – luckily, you can fix anything with duct tape). Technomarts seem to be sprouting up all over town. You’ll still get a better price over at the big electronics market at Yongsan, but there’s something to be said for locality, and this behemoth was only a couple of hundred meters away. And, the technomart here comes with a Lotte grocery floor on the ground level, and a food court up on top. Bonus! Our first order of business was storage, so we hiked upstairs, and were immediately ensnared by the two floors of games and gaming systems. If you hadn’t realized it, Korea is big on games. We’ll come back to that later. Korea is also big on learning English, and I must say that it’s become a lot easier to get around here now than, say, twenty years ago. So many young Koreans have done homestays in North America (particularly Canada), and there’s such a focus on learning English within the country, that there’s almost a feeling of panic about it. But is there such a panic that an emergency center is needed? After picking up some disk and other gear, we stopped in at the Lotte supermarket on the bottom. No pictures allowed, unfortunately, but what I did find was a good selection of produce, with those fantastic soft brown and grey mushrooms I lust after; the wall of Pocky (which Scud helped himself too); beer, beer, and beer; makkeoli in plastic bottles (like a medium sized soft drink in Canada); and meat. A lot of meat. Not only were there good, everyday cuts of beef, but they had one counter dedicated to han-u, and another to wagyu. I’ll leave it to the experts to fight over which is better, but I will say that, visually, the marbling in the han-u is just as pleasing as the wagyu I saw. We picked up some milk, Pocky, and makkeoli, a loaf of bread, and some cokes, and popped back home. Work done, and my body holding together, I asked Scud to take me back to the place he and Jason did lunch at the day before, while I was convalescing. This wasn’t far, just at Maebong station, two hits up the line past Yaejang where we’d been yesterday. Ascending from the underworld, the first thing I saw was a Bennigan’s. A big one. “I thought you were dead!” Although Bennigan’s was eradicated in North America Bennigan's was eradicated in North America almost a year ago it’s been an interesting that several survived the disaster, and have set up alliances around the rim the old empire in a bid to survive. I’d seen the one in Bahrain, and now I’d found a larger, more massive survivor here. I could see an interesting story in this; the shattered remnants of this once mighty franchise searching for a new corporate home. In Sheena’s honour, we could call it Bennigan Galactica. Tearing my overactive imagination away from the far side of the car-motorcycle continuum, I picked up on this gem on the side of the golmok we needed to enter. Cone pizza. How come I never thought of that? It’s a much tidier way to eat a pizza, treating it like a temaki. Down the lane, my innate restaurant senses started to tingle as we passed an oddly familiar traditional Korean drinking spot…. I recognized the place. This was the same Mappojjib that we’d eaten at on our last trip. Just as with the neighborhood samgyepsal place we’d started with, I was happy to be back. While a good trip should be about discovering new things, there's also a place for enjoying prior treasures again. I was here for pork neck (and they do ribs, too). Cheju pork, the famous black pigs….I was looking forward to feeding on their throats. Grilled pig neck is one of my favourite beer foods in Thailand, a cut which you can’t help but love. The meat is brought out in a wet marinade, scissors, those crucial cooking items, ready to come into play. One of many benefits in Korea, age matters. So Scud had to do the cooking. Plus, Scud being Scud and I being myself (sometimes), the ajimas all looked to him for communications and left me alone. Yes, I’m evil. It's good training though. Scud’s getting the hang of this scissoring thing, but he’s still not as confident as he should be. Practice, practice, practice. This allowed me time to concentrate on catching up with other interests, although I didn’t neglect my fatherly duty of encouraging him in taking up new skills. As usual, we tossed on as much garlic as we could. After my Roppongi Incident I now treasure a freeflowing supply of garlic and banchan. The chiggae was as good as I remembered, but I couldn’t figure out how to order the extra cubes of blood we’d had before. I considered running through a mock display of slitting the boys wrists into the soup, but wondered if this might alarm the staff. Scud’s finished product was quite edible…..so I ate it. Soft, juicy cuts of pig neck with that smell of charcoal grilling upon them, dabbed with marinaded spring onion, and wrapped up in ggaenip (perilla) and lettuce, with a dab of ddeangjang and a piece of roasted garlic under there. I was feeling better, but not 100% as far as my appetite went, so we passed on the nengmyun. It had been good, but those cold mung bean noodles fill me up too much. We did take the time to enjoy our dessert, though. Sikkae – a sweet bowl of rice and sugar water – very similar to khao chaer in Thailand (which is something I’ll get to in Part III in due time) Again, the age thing. In this country I can order the boy to take care of the check. Jason’s actually gotten out of tickets by playing the age card. A cop pulled him over and started to write him up. Jason’s passenger leaned over and yelled “How old are you? Do you know how old he is? You can’t give him a ticket.” With that the police politely bowed and backed away. As a rule, most of the standard Korean restaurants have you take care of the bill at the register. There’s none of this calling for the bill to be brought to your table, rather you take care of money matters at the source, away from the food. A fine meal, one that had me feeling (albeit tenuously) a bit more like my old self. Back on the street, we wandered about, and further admired the traditional scenery of a Korean eating alley. I’ve often seen big bags of puffed rice (and corn. Hiroyuki was quite right earlier .) I’d wonder about who would buy a cubic meter of this to eat at home. But it’s obvious now, this is to be sold on to the bars in the neighborhood. We were early enough in the day that we could enjoy the pre-dinner choreography practices outside the restaurants. This is a ritual I’ve seen here and in China. I wonder if it would ever catch on in North America? To finish, as the Boy had done well in looking after his infirm father, I took him back to the same gelato place I’d taken Serena. Scud reacted favourably to this. “Mildly enthusiastic” might sum it up. When Yoonhi and Scud had done their walking tour in Italy a few years back, Scud had taken to staking out the gelato places so that he could hit them as soon as they were opened, at which point he would fall upon them and order the first scoops of the day. It’s good to have a passion in life. Here he had a very smooth espresso flavoured gelato. Just the thing to wrap up a good Korean meal. Myself? I was feeling like I could handle a night out again. Next: A Night Out

March 19 – Sundae, Bloody Sundae Peter took charge of us for the evening, as he has a shared love for offal, which not all of our common friends do. Scud doesn’t get a choice. He eats with us. Peter was taking us to his favourite sundaeguk place, one his aunt had shown him. He didn’t say, but it may have been this that led him to settling at Yang Jae. The restaurant is just down the hill on the East side about two lanes, and then into the golmok. I’m noticing that a lot of the pork places have a common advertising theme of having a happy pig on the window, waiting in canabalistic glea for the forthcoming feast. But maybe I read too much into these things? The banchan was as banchan does. Excellent gakdugi (the mu kimchi, spicy and cubed), and a good (but limited) selection of other kim chi. A lot of people are intimidated by Asian restaurants. In Korea (most of the time) this is unnecessary. All you need to do is hold up as many fingers as you have people, and they’ll bring you whatever it is they do best. Here, it’s sundaeguk. In a large, heavy bowl you receive hunks of sundae (blood sausage with vermicelli), various organ meats, and a few hunks of blood. The whole thing is simmering in a very good pork broth. To this you add some chili to taste, and some other seasoning. Give this a good stirring; taste and adjust the flavour if needed; and then get your head down. gakdugi It’s an important note that a lot of these dishes aren’t about the component parts, but about the broth, and the flavours that come out and take up residence therein. Still, I like chewing through the parts. I wasn’t as certain about the “extras” though. Peter ordered an additional plate of liver, more sundae, and other stuff (on the left) and an interesting collection of flabby bits that were generally “from the head” (on the right). I had some issues with the liver, as this came across very dry, to the point that I was forced to go for a beer and some soju (yes, that must shock you) in order to get it down. It was sort of like eating dried Elmer’s glue. The darker bit and the sundae, however, were very good. The flabby bits were what took my by surprise. I’m no stranger to fat (as anyone who’s met me will attest) but there was something about the feel of this in my mouth that started to induce a gag reflex in me. Peter was delighted, and I knew he’d enjoy my blasting Scud ala Mr. Creosote, but I contained myself…barely. It was even harder eating the second and third pieces. Having proven myself (it’s a guy thing: we’re stupid), I turned back to the broth, and the bloody sacks of intestine bobbing about in there. This was really good. I really like sundae. I clearly remember the first time I had it. We were in Cheju City, in the market. Scud was less than 2 years old and we were in the market. I came across an old woman with a big steel bowl who was stuffing the pig intestines with the mix. I immediately popped into the wooden shanty and had Yoonhi order me some cooked. The blood gives a solid, rich, iron tang; the bits of mystery meat provide something to bite down on; and the vermicelli and casing give you a real chew to appreciate. Although my stomach was still iffy, I cheerfully ate through the extras with this memory as a beacon. After dinner, we wandered down through Namgang, taking in the crowds and the architecture. I like Korean architecture now. It’s a good mix of the traditional (which is being restored, and which I’ll get to in a few days) and modern. For two long (as in the 1970s – 1990s) Korean architecture was distressingly utilitarian, lacking in any charm or grace (I know, I’ll be criticized for this, but you still see these identical building blocks from that Our primary purpose was to hit up Kyobo Bookstore, an extensive building of English, Korean, and other books. I picked up an interesting cookbook, and a couple of pieces on Korean textiles. We asked after a couple of the famous old Korean movies on our list, but, unless something’s really old, it doesn’t stay stocked for long in this country. Returning outside, we thought about stopping in at the (then) official sponsors of Jason’s team, but gave it a pass in the interest of a relatively early night’s sleep. My health was returning, but there was no sense in over exciting myself.

Asian desserts...... mango and sticky rice with coconut cream is hard to beat mochi, soft and fresh, stuffed with bean ice cream steeped with kaffir lime leaf, lemon grass, and galangal works well pavlova with tropical fruits (this way you can use up the egg whites) Those are some thoughts to work from.

Tonight, it's the Miss Luang Prabang beauty contest. We're talking a lot of silk!

Sheena, As usual, you're quite correct. My fact finding team just showed up here in Luang Prabang (okay, it's Yoonhi, Serena, Jason, Peter, and Sandra, along for a good New Years) and I asked them, and what we had was komtang (which Yoonhi would've translated as "bear soup"....but she's still stuck on "mountain octopus"). Once I get to the next stage of this trip (part V) and have decent internet access, I'll try to get more updates posted.

Okay, having worked hard to not keep up, I'm going to have to stop trying to post entries at all for the next week or so. While I dearly love this town, the internet connection is....well....challenging for uploads. So I'll concentrate on having fun, eating, drinking, and enjoying the New Year here, and worry about posting later. However, any questions I'll try to answer. Just don't expect a picture.

April 10, 2009 – Happy New Year, Luang Prabang Serena is squealing. It’s a particularly high-pitched thing that only young girls seem capable of (okay, Scud can do it when I hit him just right0. From the airport, driving across the Nam Khan, it was apparent that things had started early. There were small throngs of cheerful bandits flinging water at the cyclos and tuktuks that passed by. When we arrived at the Apsara, the Girl didn’t even bother checking in with us, just went straight out to our streetcorner gang of girls, grabbed a plastic bucket, and started in. And now she’s out there squealing. The shutters to the verandah are open, and we can here the delight out there. More than two years ago we were last here, and I’d promised I’d bring the family back for Pimai (Songkran in Thai). I bothered Ivan at the Apsara for reservations, knowing that things went quickly, and he did think that I was a little too proactive. But, he indulged me, and when the books were open, we were in. The economy to blame, we weren’t as big a crowd as we could’ve been. Still, with Flying Rat and hubby, myself, Serena, Yoonhi, her sister Okhi, and Jason, Sandra and Peter down from Seoul, we had a good representation. First, this is a great place to stay. Nowhere near the cost of Villa Sante or the 3 Nagas, with large rooms with solid wooden floors. I like wooden floors. The kitchen here is excellent, and, being on the Nam Kham side, it’s a quiet place to chill. But while chilling was high on our list of things to do, it wasn’t everything. After unpacking, we had time to take in the sunset. Sundown on the Maekhong is an important thing. En route, we made our reservations for l’Elephant. Dinner is an important facet of being in LP. And we admired the sausages. You have to love a town that dries their food in public (more on that later). By braille I worked my way back to Café Mekong Fish. For some reason I was thinking Kit Kat, but thinking is never my strong suite. However, by dint of staring over the banks, I was able to work my way back to what I remembered. Which was, of course, Café Mekong Fish. Until you’ve been here, it’s hard to explain. But I find this town very much an opiate. I can spend great lengths of time not doing much of anything, and smiling all the while. Good beer, excellent food, and very, very accommodating people. Also, while come complain that it’s being overdeveloped, I like how things are progressing, with the town keeping much of its charm while still prospering. Every building I see on Sakarine I can flash back to what it was like 16 years ago, when most of the town was a shell, with people clustered on the ground floors of the old shophouses around fires lit in the front halls. Now, the walls are brightly painted, the streets are clean, and, while things are much more expensive, I’m in a position where I don’t really mind. Maybe I should have settled here back in ’97 when I had the opportunity, but the Asian economic crisis saved me from what would probably have been a disillusioning experience. Where was I? Oh, yes…..sundown. I like the vantage of this place, with a verandah down close to the high water mark (which is still distressingly high). We can watch the traffic on the river, pirogues of monks being shuttled about and the tourist boats coming home for the evening from Pak Ou. I thought of having a bottle of chardonnay, but this was, after all, our second opportunity for Beer Lao. And Ellen and J hadn’t had this pleasure yet. Being Asia, of course, you don’t drink without food. We had to order something to eat, in good conscience (and empty stomach). First was my favourite. A pile of river weed, tribute to the Maekhong from the rivers near here. This is something that you eat when you can find it. Mind you, eat it quickly as J pointed out, the humidity bleeds the crispness away quickly. Being Laos, we had khao niao, the ubiquitious sticky rice. This was good for sopping up the broth of the panang paa we had. This was an interesting dish, full of softness. Coconut, chili, a backdrop of turmeric, and hunks of fish and potato (man farang). J was trying to figure out the difference of this and a gaeng (curry), but, while there were similarities, there were also so many things that were wildly different in the tastes. Soft. That describes it best. We also had stuffed bamboo. This had been trolled through egg batter and deep fried, and made a good oil supplement to keep us honest. And so, you have a perfect early evening. A blood red sun setting behind the hills west of Luang Prabang, the boats coming home to roost, and, as the sun set, the sounds of the boatmen, their launches tied up for the evening, washing up and settling in. How can things get better? Next: Things get better

April 10 - catching up City grinds to a halt That was the headline this morning. I can share the city's pain. Last night's dinner was a Port Wine affair put on by Graham's in conjunction with the Dusit Thani. A matching of Thai flavours and port, which will warrant a lot of commentary. But, don't worry, we ate all over the scale, and I'll get it down. It's time to move on to the next phase, Part IV, and catch up on these Bangkok days as we go.

As usual, there's been an hiatus. That just means we've been having too much fun. We are leaving in the predawn hours, having prepared a picnic basket of goods from near and far. Bagels and bread; honey (natch); German cold-cuts; Korean pears; and pepperoni sticks from North Vancouver. It should be a very pleasant outing, one of those rare ones that gets me outside of Bangkok. Plus, if civil disorder breaks out, this could be a wise idea. Cheers

Interlude What do you bring the man who has everything? Well, maybe not everything, but everything he craves. I’m seeing a pattern here, what with Old Dutch deliveries to both Japan and Korea. Jason was ater ketchup last time, too, and added on the dill pickle flavour this time around. I also brought out a box of Stoned Wheat Thins, as I’d hold them up as the perfect example of a cracker. And Jason and I like cheese. I poured out a couple of glasses of the subok. It was clear, crisp, and with overtones of fruit. A good sake, not too dry, with some strong minerality, and a perfect companion for some fresh fruit. And so I put the boy to work, carving up some of the box of pe ( Korean pears) that I’d picked up at Costco. We took our minor feast back to the television, and watched traditional Korean sports…. Starcraft! We spent the next couple of hours watching young people with bad complexions sweat profusely while the crowd went wild, thundersticks crashing and screams of victory over every Zerg outpost leveled. The Starcraft show….I love this country. Next: back to plan – sundae guk

I've been pouring out a bit each morning and having it with croissants and toast. It's quite nice (I did get rid of the dead bee that was in there). As a cost point reference, it was 150 baht, or around $5.50 for a 75 cl bottle.

While it was pretty common in China, you don't see it much here. The only time I've come across it is at street stalls and low end places. I see it as a way to minimize on dishes, and retain some level of hygiene.

I know, I'm a mere shadow of my former self. I suspect there's somebody with a special machine somewhere nearby, providing the material for the bevy of chicken hofs in this area. We asked for more fries around 4 a.m., and it wasn't a problem, he just needed time to get the fat back up to temperature. Korea has taught me a lot about the uses of tallow. I'd never realized that it was the best way to clean a grill, too. Yes, you'll have to go to a hockey game and cheer. It's the law. Trust me.

Victory is yours! I think your comment is true for many of the South East Asian cities. While the major city will have the best selection of food and drink, it is always another world from the rest of the country. Still, the pictures and descriptions are so good that I may someday get over my phobia of travel to Manila. Now, I only have a few more weeks of vacation left.

March 19 – Finding Closure I woke, and I knew I was better. I’m one of those people that can almost enjoy being ill for the sake of that too brief moment when you fully appreciate how good it is to feel well. I sprang out of bed, the hour still early, and rousted the boy to wakefulness. This was our opportunity to fulfill his obligations to his mother. We had to go see culture. Our first stop was the Rodin Gallery. Yoonhi had been very unhappy to find it not open when we’d been here a couple of years ago, and made me promise that I’d go there with Scud. There was just one problem. It wasn’t open. In fact, it was looking pretty darned “shut for business”. I took a picture of Scud in front of the building, establishing that we at least tried. I don’t know the story on what happened here. I know the Korean economy has been badly hurt by the economic crisis, and I wonder if the sponsorship of the arts is drying up, in much the same way that the 1997 crisis saw the end of ssireum and other corporate sports. In the early 90s, with the economy riding high, traditional Korean wrestling was a hotly contested sports, with all of the big chaebol having their teams carrying their banners. Some of Jason’s first work here was in covering the wrestling, and back then it was something I’d wanted to see, fought on a raised dirt dias, both contestants often being knocked out by the final fall from the ring. When we returned in the 2000’s, the onus had shifted to culture (as seen with Leeum – the Samsung museum of art). But, the wheel of dharma has once again revolved. What else could I do of culture with the Boy? Well, how about Korea’s National Monument #1? Nam Dae Mun, the famous South Gate? Nope. In 2008 (February 10, to be precise) a disgruntled Chae Jong Gi torched the gate to express his lack of gruntle. Luckily, the Koreans had done a major review of the gate, and blueprinted everything a few years earlier, so restoration won’t be a problem. But we were still batting 0 for 2. Next, I dragged Scud back up the street towards the palaces, but then had a sudden reality check. Like his mother, Scud needs to be fed regularly. At this point, I needed to put food in him. The first place I found looked really good. Fire grilled duck. It also turned out to be really closed. We checked another couple out. They weren’t going to fit the bill. The boy was getting disgruntled, too (but I keep him away from matches). Finally, I found what I needed. A tent with trays of stuff. When in doubt, point and throw money. While Yoonhi holds that the best ddeokboggi is to be found outside the schools in the clusters of little shops, I have a preference for the little tents that are peppered around the streets of any Korean city (with the possible exception of Los Angeles, but they have the bulgogi taco truck). Here I had a perfectly acceptable plate of ddeokboggi, smothered in the traditional red sauce, and Scud ordered a set of pork skewers, likewise lathered up in a cheerful orange-red. I miss fresh ddeok – soft, chewy rice cake. I’m always amazed at how much they can fit into these little places. Seating for a dozen, and a range of cooking from the simmers and grills we were eating, to the big bowl of saran wrapped sundae that I’d missed on entry. They were frying eggs for kim bap, and throwing together chiggaes and other dishes as called for. And everyone was really happy, with the staff chowing down at the next table with some of the regulars who’d dropped in. Fortified, we set out in search of culture. It’s not hard to find in Korea, and it must have been the lack of food earlier that had jinxed us. Close by was Deoksugung, the palace used by the royals after the Imjin War (1592-1597) left much of everything else razed to the ground. Later it served as the residence for the deposed King after the Occupation. It’s a tidy palace, not spread out as the others were, but more approachable as a living area. Maps show the encroachment of the palace grounds, with tall modern towers now sitting on what were once the grounds. They also had a singijeon launcher. This was covered on Myth Busters some time back, and was confirmed as functional. You can’t argue with the Discovery Channel. This neat little item came in various sizes, and could simultaneously fire hundreds of rockets. You need things like this to keep boys like us engaged in culture. Tempering that were two major galleries, exhibiting the adoption of modern artistic methods and expressions in Korean arts. Interesting material, and it works best, as you’d expect, when it folds back into traditional Korean themes, and jars when it’s simply a lifting of foreign motifs to the local. We ended with the changing of the guards. Colourful, and anachronistic, with the drum and bugle corps parading out onto the uber-modern streets of down town Seoul to hand over responsibilities for this palace. I wandered a bit, and poked into the golmok – those little allies filled with food. There are always interesting finds. Consider “Wine Camp”. How come my parents never sent me there when I was young? And how about the “Power Lunch” at Star Beer? How had I missed this earlier in the day? And tucked into a side alley was this lonely kitty, begging for a passerby to blow the dust off of these bottles of sake . As a final reward for having tolerated all of this, Scud was indulged in a traditional Korean treat. Baskin-Robbins ice cream in a waffle cone. Next – Home is where the heart is….and the liver, brain, kidneys……

You're probably right, but there's something special about devouring a communist pig. Filipino lechon is world-famous. Would you say it's worthy of being the National Dish? ← Now I feel bad about not eating any capitalist running dogs in South Korea!

I believe so. I'll try to stop by some morning, and, if I can focus, get closer shots. And I'll look at what they do for phat Thai. But there are as many different recipes as their are vendors.

FlyingRat told me she'd also seen this guy once, down on Soi 3. Ninja honey sales. But, when your honey is poured out before your eyes.....well, I've bought a nice bit of bread from the Emporium to toast tomorrow and have with honey. Some cheaters: Joseph Drouhin wine dinner, Port dinner, 15 course tasting. Yeah, I'm going native. Bo bpen nyang, say I.

Holding to my belief that time should never be linear, I'll start up the next bit of the travelogue with the last bit hardly started. So, we'd started with Part 1 here in Bangkok, and then moved onto Part II in Seoul. After Seoul...well.....I'm where I should be... just not "all the time". This is a town where odd things happen. Pleasant odd things. As I came out of my apartment building, I rounded the corner, walked past the ubiquitous construction site, nodded at the vendor on his bike without really seeing him (I'm still jetlagging), and then was accosted by a construction worker in his blue coveralls who grabbed my wrist and emphatically said "Honey! My Thai isn't good enough to tell him that I was flattered, but I really didn't swing that way. "Thank you" was about all I could come up with on the spot. But, fortunately, I was saved that bit of pleasantry as he dragged me back to the vendor. I had found the nomadic bee keeper. On the front of his bike was a large piece of honeycomb. In the middle was a well guarded plastic sack, full of honey and drowned bees. And at the back was his hive, a writhing mass of hard working bees. There's something otherworldly about it, as you stand perfectly still within a cloud of swarming bees, wondering if you are allergic (note to self: carry a Bic pen for sudden tracheotomies). With concentration he poured my purchase into an old nam plaa bottle, ladling the syrup out (with the odd dead bee included). 150 baht for what I know will be the freshest honey I can find. It was just an odd coincidence, as just before the trip, I'd been voraciously reading Christopher Moore's latest Calvino novel Payng Back Jack and a character in it was the beekeeper's daughter, the death of bees, and her knowledge of the language of bees. Couple that with Seinfeld's The Bee Movie, and I was entranced. Rapture amidst a cloud of bees. I took my purchase back to the apartment to put it in the fridge. I guess I'll be having toast with honey for breakfast for the next little while. I'm going to have to do something about the dead bees before Yoonhi and Serena arrive...... When I came back out of the apartment, just ten minutes later, he was gone. I haven't seen him since. The second item of note, and which helped to set the stage for this...stage....was to walk into the Emporium and immediately hear the loud speakers chirpily call out: "Save our economy. Let's go shopping!" I love this place. I should be out spending money.

Where was I...... Oh, getting back to my notes, I see I forgot our stop at Burger King. Myself, I just had some water, wanting to avoid dehydration. But, while our group chowed down on burgers and fries, I looked over the posted menu. Now, I may just be really out of touch, but is the Burger King honey potato burger meal readily available worldwide, or is this just a Korea thing? We wrapped up back at the Chicken Hof, with a string of the usual culprits coming in. I couldn't eat much of anything, but the conversation was good, so I toughed it out. The topic was The Watchmen, at first. One of the things I like about this film is that in a very short time, it has generated a better level of conversation than much of anything else I've seen for ages. Then, on a moments notice we turned to Korean movies, particularly the ones that started up the K-Wave, titles likeJSA (Joint Security Area, which was really, really good). This was the film that opened up the purse strings for Park Chanwook (who's more famous in the West for Old Boy, which is my favourite dentistry film), and Swiri, a spy flick that also led to the money flowing into the film industry. The owner, who we already like, proved to be a great database on Korean films, and we were yelling questions back and forth into the wee hours. The reason I bring this up is that there's a certain atmosphere you get when the cook/owner of the restaurant is so engaged with his customers on a topic completely out of left field. Especially at 4 a.m. But the people here have a fierce nationalism that covers everything Korean, and that's part of what I like here. We'll get to baseball soon enough.