Peter Green

Peter, a question from earlier in the topic. Isn't the bottom pile galanaga and and the top ginger? That's what someone explained to me in Chiang Mai. I think. ← Yes. that's "wild" ginger on top. It sure doesn't look like the ginger I get in the commissary here, I know. (edit) = either that or it's krachai and I'm completely out to lunch.

June 27 – Duck The Second I’d thought the tuxedo run to the Four Seasons had been a bit moist, but that was a mere bagatelle when compared to getting to the Oriental. I did have a plan. I always have a plan. It may not be a very good plan….. I’d make it to Saphan Taksin on the BTS, and from there just grab a cab over to the Oriental. That way my besuited self would only be out of air conditioning for about five minutes. I could do five minutes. Off the BTS, the first problem was the gusting wind. When it cranks up like this, it generally means that there’s a downpour on the way. It also means you’re not going to find an empty taxi. I tried. I really did. But the flow wasn’t moving, the cabs were full, and when I did find one, they didn’t want to do the short haul up Charoen Krung to the Oriental. My alternate Plan B, the River Express, lay a long walk back behind me. The tie was loose, the jacket was over my sleeve, and the shoes …well…we’ll see if they’ll shine back up when I get home. I fell back on Plan C. I walked. I arrived at the famed hotel in reasonably good time, but in a rather distressed condition. This resulted in a rather hurried set of introductions in the lobby, after which I fled to the men’s room. Thank heavens for those cloth towelettes the good hotels are using. I would’ve defoliated most of my body if I’d had to make do with paper towels. As a useful skill from this trip, I’m getting pretty good at doing sponge baths. There’s hope for me when I turn 70 and Scud locks me away in a home. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the lobby of the Oriental, perhaps more than a dozen years. I keep intending to get back down here for lunch at Le Normandie or Lord Jim’s, or to catch some jazz at the Bamboo Bar, but the location has always put me off. But it is a very pretty hotel. Call it the Grande Dame of Bangkok if you will. The hotel recently celebrated its 130th anniversary, having started life in 1876. Much of the fanfare revolves around the early, more modest years, when Conrad visited (albeit in his seafaring days), and Maugham (okay, he did contract malaria) stopped over during his tour of Siam (I must find his book of the tour A Gentleman in the Parlour). Since then it’s been the place to stay for the rich and famous (of which I’m neither), and there’s a long string of literary names that are associated with the hotel now. Heck, beyond the writers that have stayed and passed on their names to a number of the suites, the hotel itself is the main character (in a manner) of recent novels, such as At The Bamboo Bar, by Morgan McFinn (I’m still on my Bangkok authors shtick). I just wish it was easier to get to. Oh, I hadn’t mentioned the food. We were dining at La Normandie, atop the Oriental. In residence was the young (34 years) chef Stephane Haissant,. With him was canardiere Eric Lefevre, who has spent almost that long specializing in duck, and their team from La Tour D’Argent of Paris. La Tour D’Argent, said to be part of the inspiration for Ratatouille, had fallen on hard times these past years, sinking from three to one star in the Red Book, with Claude Terrail, who ran the restaurant for 60 years, passing away in 2006. Now his son, Andre, has taken over, at 27 years old about the same age as Claude when he began. After the fall from grace, they shut down last year for three months to renovate. I’ll leave the reviews on that to our Parisian brethren. Back to the food. The menu tonight, of course, was duck. I’d fallen into this by the good graces of my friends. When I’d emailed to confirm my arrival (and availability for meals) I immediately had a response, asking if I wanted to catch La Tour d’Argent. They were in town as part of Le Fete Francais, a one month series of art shows, dance (with a strong representation from expatriate Lao who’ve grown up in France), film, and food. The food had been ongoing at locations like Bouchons (which I quite enjoy, even if the location is a bit disconcerting) and Beaulieu (at which Herve does an excellent job). Reservations had just opened, and tables were going quickly. Timing is everything. I jumped at the opportunity, of course. Let me take an aside here, for some that may be gritting their teeth at my callous disregard of Thai cuisine.. I’m an expat. I was born an expat. I live (if you call it that) in a place with not much of anything, and I look upon my time in Bangkok not only as an opportunity to enjoy what is – in the opinion of many (and myself) – one of this planet’s great cuisines, in its most pristine state, but also as a chance to gorge from the cornucopia of other treats that spill out from this thing we call Bangkok. Chefs in residence, and an ever increasing string of chefs that are lured here to the City of Angels (or the Village of Olives) to cook for are continually putting forward menus that I just can pass up us (I’m still in anguish that I missed Keller). There, I’ve got that out of the way. Where were we? Yes, the duck. My friends (new and old) alighted from the elevator and we were guided to our table, near to the sterling duck press, a station of some activity already – the white aproned canardier whisking obsessively in front of the tortuous silver mass of the press. Seated in the soft orange tones, we admired the view of the Chao Phraya outside. The bridges were alight, and the cruise boats, barges, and River Express ferries swarmed the water like fireflies . There’d be some long tails out there, too, but outside of a warning flashlight or a lit cigarette they’d be powering up and down the river like phantoms, relying upon the sobriety of the other pilots to not run them over. The menus arrived, and then tragedy struck. I was pressed into choosing the wines. I hate choosing wines. Especially when everyone else at the table knows a lot more than I do about grape juice. I tried to let us off fairly lightly, going with a Sauterne to open – a Chateau Filhot deuxieme cru classe from 1995 - and then a Burgundy - a Gevrey-Chambertin Pierre Olivier from 2001. I figured we could match the Sauterne with the foie gras, and then push it back for dessert, later. But, I’m getting ahead of myself (but not by much). We opened with an amuse bouche, a thing of orange jelly like quality, with a bit of toasted brioche propped up along it. I wish I could better describe it, but it slipped in and out almost unnoticed while we traded cookbook titles and ISBN numbers. Our first course was The three emperors foie gras with Sauternes jelly, Porto jelly and lukewarm brioche. I could give you the French names, but this is easier for me to make sense of in English. The dish took its name from its first serving in 1867, when the Tsar and crown prince of Russia had a meal with the Emperor of Prussia. Perhaps they discussed how it was that a department store north of the United States was confederating as a country? This was goose foie gras. An interesting change to the flavour, as I’ve grown so used to duck over the years. The only time I’d taken goose liver had been in Cairo a few years back, and that was an unfortunate trauma I would’ve been better minded to have avoided. As was, this was a very good pate, with all the richness you’d expect. Bits of black truffle were in the pate, and there was crystalline salt about to give me my chloride kick. What surprised me were the jellies. Growing up in the 60s, and having done New Orleans in the 80s and 90s, I’m not used to jellies being this…..good. (There, I’ve got most of the population of Louisiana upset with me now). The Sauterne jelly was very, very good, but was helped by what we were drinking. The Porto was excellent all on its own, and makes me think I should try doing these once I’ve the necessaries. If my mother had served me bowls of this when I was younger, who knows were my life might’ve taken me? (The Betty Ford Clinic, perhaps?) Next came the Baked pike dumplings with Mornay sauce “Andre Terrail”. Yes, I do admit it sounds a lot better to call them “ Quenelles de brochet ‘Andre Terrail’”. Andre Terrail was the owner of La Tour D’Argent from 1912 to 1947, which some would say were its glory years. The pike is line caught, and dumplings are made of the mousse of fish and chopped mushrooms. They’re covered in the sauce, and then gratinated with the Parmesan. They come across nicely spongey, with that little bit of crackle in the gratinee atop. Heavy sauces topped with cheese. You gotta love it. We’d moved over to the Burgundy, and found it to have its characteristic lighter body, but with a very forceful and peppery taste, a good match for the duck to come, if somewhat beaten down by the Mornay sauce. And now we come to grips with the bird itself. Caneton “Tour d’Argent”, pressed duck. This is the signature dish of the restaurant. Ducks from the Challans region near the West Coast of France are given a pleasant life of fresh sea breezes and free ranges. This idyllic life lasts eight weeks, and then they are strangled to preserve the blood in their bodies. During cooking the bodies are dismembered, and the breasts and legs taken one after the other (the legs, of course, roast longer). The remainder is then pressed to extract the juices, blood, and marrow. This wet collection of essences is then reduced with red wine, cognac, and butter to provide us with a very interesting sauce. The ducks, since 1890, have been numbered, and certificates issued with them. The great King Chulalongkorn dined at La Tour D’Argent during his tour of Europe in 1907, enjoying duck number 28348 on September 26th of that year. Queen Sirikit, in April 1992, had duck number 772301. Since then they’ve passed the million mark. I’d forgotten to ask Eric when he was at our table about our numbers. My friend of long acquaintance at the table with me had dined at La Tour in Paris, and had a certificate in the high numbers. Our certificates here indicated that we were dining much lower in the numbers. I suspect that they are tracking the number of ducks served on this nine day stint, of which this was the last day. The birds were brought with them, so not only is it a good marketing ploy, but also an effective bit of accounting. As for the effect, the duck breast was quite tender, and carrying enough gaminess to satisfy me. There was a strong iron tang to the sauce, which only makes sense when you consider the blood contained. Actually, the original name of the dish was canard au sang . The breasts were served with a blown out, airy thing, reminiscent of an ethereal Yorkshire pudding. I failed to take the name, and I don’t have enough exposure to French cuisine to identify it properly. The breast was followed by the leg; Grilled duck legs with celery and mushroom salad, or salade Roger. I appreciated this more than the heaviness of the breast, but I’m a leg man, myself (but I married a Korean?). The meat on this was luxurious, full of flavour and just plain pleasant to eat. And then there was cheese. Selection of frsh and matured French farmhouse cheese “Edouard Ceneri”. As I’d mentioned at brunch, I miss good cheese. I particularly miss the full fat unpasteurized cheeses of the Continent. And when a selection like this comes by, I’m in heaven. A congealed mammary fluid version of heaven, but heaven all the same. “Sir, which would you like?” “Give me everything that’s like myself.” “Sir?” “Oh, sorry…. give me a serving of everything fat and smelly.” The cheese allowed us time to converse, and share stories of food and travels. The young fellow at the table with us, accompanied by his wife, had those movie star looks that captivated our serving staff. But he was also well versed in wine and food, and shared my interests in Japanese cuisines (okay, he knew what he was talking about. With me, I said “interest” not “knowledge”), and we discussed the attractions of Maru and some of the other of Bangkok’s Japanese offerings. Dessert was the only item I wasn’t happy with. Salad of seasonal fruits with champagne jelly and acidulated rosemary coulis. The champagne jelly was excellent, nicely accented by the rosemary, and gave a very good first impression. But the “seasonal fruit” was persimmon, and I found this too tart to make for a good experience. Of course, dessert isn’t over until the petit fours sing, and we finished with Mocha and Petits fours and pralines from “La Tour d’Argent”. I wish I could decorate coffee properly Actually, we really finished with several minutes of group pictures, but that was fun. We’d had a very nice meal, and the company was excellent. It’s hard not to be overcome by the graciousness of the people here, and there passion for food always gives me common ground upon which to stand. Last to leave, we thanked the staff and collected our menus and bits and pieces. The young couple afforded me a lift back to my apartment, and the opportunity to discuss more about dining and wining. It was a matter of some happiness that, after discussing the restaurants of Chiang Mai we found our favourite was common to the two of us, The Good View. And some of my Japanese haunts were also his. Happy and fed, it was back to the room and bed. A good day, with good meals and no other aim than that. Next – The Last Day (somebody do a drum roll, please) For those interested, here’s a step-by-step on the pressing of a duck. I found another posting for the TdA's Normandie gig, with much better pictures than mine, but a slightly different menu. It looks to be lunch, as the light is much better. Check this link to ohsirin The author – “Oh Sirin” also has a book out (in Thai) on Hong Kong restaurants.

Chris, I'm looking forward to loads more photos. I should've warned you off of Riverside. It was good when it was, but now it isn't. Back when it opened, in the 80's, it was the only place in that strip, and made for a comfortable spot to enjoy the Ping and kill two or five bottles of Maekhong. But I, too, didn't enjoy the food I had there when we went back with the kids. I'm glad The Good View is holding up. With the new place in Bangkok, you worry if they overstretch, but it sounds like you had a great time. Getting a ride back from dinner with some Thai friends we were talking Chiang Mai eats, and it took us a few minutes but I suddenly realized their favourite spot was The Good View as well (I've really got to work on my Thai). Oh, and we solved the mystery of the bpai cham poo leaves. They're from the Rose Apple "Cham poo". We were arguing about that just two posts above. Post more pictures and comment soon! Cheers, Peter

June 27 – Duck the First A little ways back in this thread, Rona had made it known that Yong Lee needed to be on my list. I’d tried the once on the 25th, only to have them closed for the afternoon. How can an open air place like this be closed? But that wasn’t an issue today. I’d called up a couple of my friends and arranged to meet here for an early lunch. Rona’d mentioned earlier how Yong Lee has long had a certain local esteem for their duck, both in soup and served in gravy. Me, I’ll take it any which way, but I wasn’t in the mood for soup. And I see no reason to be concerned about hygiene issues. The work stations are clean, the tiles wiped down, and the rats take off their shoes before they go upstairs. The bottles of sriracha, oyster sauce, oil, and sweet soy are all tidily lined up on a shelf about four inches higher than the old lady doing the cooking, and there’s a talisman of jasmine to keep away any stray salmonella. I mean, seriously, if there was a concern about food safety, would the motodops eat here? Yeah, I know that duck in soup is a big thing. But, as Scud points out in his new AMV (well, okay, he stole the track from Budweiser, but it’s more fun with Sanji, the chef from One Piece, and Kimura from Azu Manga Daioh) “…if there’s gravy, well then, everything’s going to be okay”. I like this, as the strength in the duck comes through better in this instance. In soup, I lose a lot of the gaminess of the bird. Plus, I start sweating buckets when I eat soup in outside venues. But that’s just me. They’d topped this with cucumber leaves, and there was something soft and mucky in the middle under the bird meat. Ithink they might’ve been noodles at some pre-congealed point in their life. Like I inferred, this had a good strong flavour, with that backdrop of Bisto-esque gravy that I can lather on just about anything if I get the chance. That reminds me, you can buy “curry chip flavour” bisto here in Foodland. I should grab a jar one of these trips. Duck’s a great success story in Thailand. Rice paddy snails – the ones that don’t get eaten by Onigiri and I – were a serious problem. Then they found that a flock of ducks will keep them well under control, and provide a certain amount of natural fertilizer. Since then, raising ducks has been a reasonable business. At best, you can rent them out for pest control, at worst you cover their feed costs. This results in duck being a heck of a lot more reasonable to eat on a regular basis than ina lot of other places. I’d actually eaten here 20 years ago. At the time, we’d not had the duck, but had gone for something less memorable, as I can’t remember it. It’s a setting that makes me think more of Chiang Mai than modern Bangkok, occupying a corner position, open on two sides so there is some airflow. Maybe that’s it. It’s that “20 years ago effect”. The place really hasn’t changed much, but the street outside certainly has. And there was enough on the menu to keep me occupied. I Ordered the cockles, stone-hard shells but solid bits of chewiness in there to complement the chili sauces neatly laid out for us. Some good bits of mushroom in there, too, finished with a hit of oyster sauce in the wok. This is Thai Chinese, so we had to have noodles. We ordered a plate, and it came with prawns, squid, spring onion, eggs, bamboo, onions, mushrooms….all greasily fried and quite good as long as it was hot. They had cow tongue, too, which I jumped at. This was done in a thickened gravy with bell peppers, chilis, more mushrooms, and onions. Tongue is a wonderful bit of meat, and they did a good job of it here. One of the chefs at the WGF said “the Thai are the masters of frying”…..okay, maybe the Japanese will contest that claim, but it’d be a tight contest. I volunteer to sit on the judging panel! These prawns were big, and sweet and juicy sealed within the hardened casing of the batter. It had that tell-tale cornstarch bang to the shell. Fun to bite through the crispness, after having dredged one side through the chili and nampla sauce. Have a cucumber right after to take away some of the sting, and then dive in for more. I was enjoying this day. Nothing had happened, and I’d accomplished just about squat. I was savouring my first beer of the day, catching up on a year’s conversation, wondering what the specs were for construction around here, and being happy that it wasn’t anywhere near as hot as it could be. Opas Watcharintrawudth, the septagenarian who’s holding down the fort here, had done the serving. (And he still moves pretty quick) I’ve heard of him before, and today he was in fairly good humour, covering the tables, supervising his staff of ladies, and keeping the place moving. But I wonder how much longer this place’ll still be here? Real estate is getting pretty pricey on this stretch of Sukhumvit, and you think someone would be putting up a new hotel or a mall here. Of course, there are still plenty of derelicts (“distressed structures” is the appropriate wording”) still hanging about from the ’97 Crisis, so there’s more than enough space to choose from, I suppose. But it is only a matter of time before all of this is swept away by five star hotels and new shopping malls. A few more parks would be nice (but not if they’re the result of Sukhumvit Square re-enactments). Enjoy the moment, say I. So, that was lunch. A good duck. At a fair price. The question is, how would it compare with dinner? Next – Quack! Part 2

June 27 – Bangkok the Temptress My time was growing short. Luckily, as my travels start to wind down, it’s fairly predictable that time will start to clear, with the exception of the last day, which will be a whirlwind. This, a Friday, had me booked for dinner, but that was all. Thus I found myself at loose ends for the day…at least the lit portion. And when I find myself with nothing to do, it’s time to start making plans. Accomplishing those plans is another matter. My first objective was to make it to the underground. That might not sound like much, but Bangkok is known as The Great Waster of Time (along with a million other sobriquets), and is unparalleled in placing distraction in the path of the unwary. Heading out of the apartment I cast a long, lingering look upon the sausage stand at the corner. The greasy femernted pong of sai krok hung in the humidity like old underwear on the backyard clothesline. But, as appetizing as that was, I needed to focus. Across the street I was momentarily distracted by the siren call of catfish roasting over an open grill, the charring smell of bottom feeders trying to pull me across soi 19. I was saved by the intervention of that hallowed saint, Hello Kitty. Confronted by the weighty question of “which airline transports their flight crew in a Sanrio bus?”, I was able to avert the draw of the food vendors, and quickly get myself to the MRT entrance at Asoke. My aim was to make it to Fortune City. I’d been told that this had become a good place for art house Asian movies, as well as a source of various and sundry bits of software and hardware. Panthip Plaza used to be the place for this, but over the last few years it’s just gotten to be such a hassle to hike down there from the BTS station. Mind you, there’s a really good Hong Kong style ba mee place just across the street from Panthip…….. I shook myself out of a daze, finding that I was on the platform heading North (or at least “up” on the map). The underground, which I’ve only just started using these last couple of trips, would drop me right at Fortune City. We’d actually been here before. Thai Air had put us up a the hotel here as an overnight en route to Bali a few years back. At that time, without public transit in place, it was more than a little dead. Now the place was jammed with shops, and there was a steady stream of people heading into the complex. My well laid plans got me as far as the mall. From that point, it was a rather aimless bit of wandering, until, after a DVD or ten, I came across something that captured my attention more effectively than the food stalls out on the streets….. Witoon’s Cocktail and Wine School. What’s this doing here, you might ask? Well, Witoon Wonsawat has had the school open since Spring 2004. Khun Witoon himself had had a long and distinguished career consulting for a number of large firms (British Air, Air France, etc), but has gone to ground as a teacher, which, admittedly, has a lot of satisfaction to offer. He draws financial support for the school from Pernod Ricard, who are the importers for Chivas Regal, among other tipples. With their backing, he’s running a 180 hour course in “the fine art of cocktail blending, but also beverage management, public relations, related legal issues and basic accounting and marketing with the aim of producing highly skilled bartenders with a well-rounded knowledge of the industry.” The really cool part is that the school is free. Pernod Ricard is footing the bill, and will even help find work for the bartenders. At least, that was the info I have from an old 2004 Post article. The only down-side (for me) is that they won’t take candidates over 25. The aim is to get more competent people out there in the bartending industry. It’s good for business, and, financially, it’s good for the students. I like his philosophy. Here’s his quote from the original Bangkok Post piece in December 2004: "Beverage offers them a big opportunity to earn more money for the simple reason that while a big meal leaves you full and you have to stop, you can sit and order drinks all night," he said. I’ll drink to that. Next – Quack! (Part 1)

"Tomatoes in snow" something I had a lot of in Beijing a few years ago. Just clean, rinse, slice, and cover in castor sugar. I think everyone's coming to a common thread of simplicity.

Bryan, Following on what I saw in some of the Asian places, and how chefs like Seiji Yamamoto are drawing inspiration from Spain, it's great getting back to the source. Excellent work, both the writing and the photos. Continue eating and posting! Here's to being excessive! Cheers, Peter

I'll be back in a little bit. We're just getting set to ship the family back to Canada for August, and I do, on occasion, put the family first. ← Take your time--I was just worried that you got lost in one of those markets ← "Lost"? Moi? I have an innate sense of location. Which continent am I on again now?........

I'll be back in a little bit. We're just getting set to ship the family back to Canada for August, and I do, on occasion, put the family first.

I'll chime in. Although credit goes to Tim (TB88). He mentioned in one of the threads that part of what gives Thai food that difference in Thailand is that they're not afraid to ferment. In North America, a concern would be the presence of different bacteria and their cultures. Nope, scratch that, says Yoonhi. Culture indicates a level of control (like in yogurts). The concern here is uncontrolled micro-organisms. Things like kim chi (for example) - you're working with the natural micro-organisms in the material. Soooooo....do we have the same micro-organisms in North America that we have in Chiang Mai? Probably not. Having said all of that, I go back to the origal train of thought, which is that we may be a little too concerned about Nature having its wicked way with us. Try it as an experiment, but safety test it first before you put your friends to the test. Leave a note as to what you've done, just to be safe (if you're alone). Last comment - the fermented sausages of the North and NorthEast are to die for. Good luck. Cheers Peter

Darn, that looks good. This has to be my favourite way to enjoy a tenderloin (along with tartare).

June 26 – Rossano’s I’d spent the afternoon lingering over my laptop, a good sake, and the sausages and buns. There are worse way to spend a day in Bangkok. (But that just may be the Rat in me.) Dinner was a very pleasant, and very relaxing change of pace. A quiet Italian meal with a couple I haven’t seen for some time – Christopher Moore and his wife, Khun Od. We’d arranged to meet at Rossano’s, which is still relatively new but has developed a strong following in the neighborhood. In part it’s the reputation of the owner, Gennari Rossano, whose L’Opera was a Bangkok staple for decades, closing down only about three years ago. At that time Gennari planned to take a well-earned retirement and enjoy the fruits of his labours. You know how that goes. Three years idle, and he was back in business with this spacious, airy, Tuscan motif’d restaurant. Let me see if I’ve got some more adjectives around here. Bangkok’s expat community is an interesting thing, at times like a fishbowl, glassed off and separate from the Thai world about it. I can study it for ages. Much is made of the seedier elements at the bottom of the tank, and there’s quite a bit of flash darting about as well in the higher parts, but there are some very good, very long-lived characters in there, and its hard for some of them, like Rossano, to be out of the mix for too long. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. I was early (and relatively dry, to boot!), so I relaxed with a martini – Gordon’s gin, dry – and considered the space. I can see how this would be a popular spot for the expatriates who make up much of the population in this part of town. The service is good, the décor is very upbeat, the room well spread out, and the choice of food and wine very good. The décor is Tuscan, but the chef (Pinna Achille) is from Sardinia (or rather, a small island near Sardinia), having come from his family’s restaurant there. The menu was well supported by seafood dishes, and it was a matter of some personal pain for me as I considered these in contrast to the meatier, Northern dishes. My discomfort was allayed when Christopher and Od showed up, and we started catching up on what has happened where and when. It’s been a good three years since last we’d met, with a number of missed opportunities in the intervening time. The last time we’d seen each other was during the floods back in 2005, when Christopher had arrived in wading boots, and was the only one there with dry feet. Christopher Moore has been writing out of Bangkok now for over two decades. For me, his books give that feel of detail, that sleight of hand of literature that can make you believe you’re somewhere else. He does very well at capturing the nuances of Bangkok. Maybe part of it is the “I’ve been there” syndrome (as when we catch a television programme filmed in Vancouver), that little thrill when you read of Bourbon Street and Doug, and know the material personally? But there are other bits that come through, filling in my knowledge of the city, and both Yoonhi and I rely on his books when we’re away. Think of it as a "fix". We’d first met when I’d ordered some of his novels to be delivered to the Emporium when we were passing through. I was told the delivery was here, and when I arrived in the lobby, I found the man himself. That first meeting made for a very good conversation, cut short, unfortunately, by the minor necessity of having to get to the airport on our part (Yoonhi: “What were you doing down there for so long?”…..”Christopher Moore was here and you didn’t call me?”). The other thing that makes it easy for us to kill long periods of time is our common background outside of Asia – Vancouver. (Hmm…I guess that is still technically outside of Asia). He’d taught law at UBC before heading West across the Pacific (his first book, His Lordship’s Arsenal, is set in Vancouver, as is Gambling On Magic). But, let’s get back to the food. This is eGullet, after all, and I’m supposed to be discussing what we were eating. Khun Od was feeling a bit under the weather, as she’d been conducting interviews for the last several days straight, work which I know can take a lot out of you, so she ordered just the salad. Okay, Caesar salad isn’t really Italian, but it’s something you have to have on a menu in Bangkok, and it does taste very good here, loaded with extra bits of seafood. Christopher started with an order of the clams, and I chose the cappelletti di stufato con punte di asparagi – ravioli of braised beef and vegetables, served with asparagus and truffles with sage. One of many things I like about Bangkok is that when they advertise truffles with a dish, they don’t mess about with oils or extracts or other tangentials. They get the truffle out and shave it. The sauce with this was very good, the cream carrying the truffles well, but the braised beef was more of a background flavour in the face of this stiff competition. I like seeing my friends doing well, and the last few years have been good to the two of them. Now there were grounds for congratulations. While his work has done well in Europe and Asia (he’s won a number of crime fiction awards) Christopher has finally landed a North American publisher – Grove/Atlantic – who has four of his Calvino series available now. (According to Christopher, I get a nod for part of (The Risk of Infidelity Index) – namely the food obsession parts, dealing with a rather dubious Italian cooking class. There’s my 15 minutes of fame.) I’d ordered my main from the blackboard. An Australian rib eye with a Brunello reduction. This came with roasted potatoes and some very pleasant mushrooms, and was topped with crisped potato “chips”, which I wasn’t quite expecting. It took me back to the Mermaid on Road 9 in El Maadi. The meat is cooked on a grill of volcanic rock that they’ve built here. It wasn’t a bad dish, but it was somewhat more than I was in a position to tackle at this time, having been snacking all afternoon since the market. Still, it went well with the glass of wine I had (a sangiovese-cab blend, I believe. I forgot to get the name). Anyways, I was more interested in grilling Christopher and Khun Od than I was in grilling meat (a rare thing for me, I know….maybe medium rare). Obviously, we had some discussion over the current situation, and over the forthcoming projects that Khun Od is working on (I’ll stay quiet on those, as I’ve not taken permission to disclose, darn it, and I want to get this post up). I believe we ended up at some point with discussions of the relationship of the Koreans to the yakuza. As I said, I look forward to these conversations. Our table was cleared and then the cake arrived. I’d forgotten to mention that it was Khun Od’s birthday. Rossano’s brought out a pretty little cake, and I indulged in some dessert for a change (once the flames were extinguished). As far as meals went, everything was serviceable. As I said, I can see how this would be a comfortable spot, within easy reach of this quadrant of the heavily populated Asoke-Sukhumvit intersection. The food was competently handled, and the service and atmosphere was excellent. It was not an “over-the-top” sort of meal. For that I would go with Giusto on the other side of Asoke, down soi 23. But if I was living in this area, I would probably be coming in here on a semi-regular basis. But, this meal was about the company, not about the food. The Moores and I walked out to Asoke, and we parted at the underground. I debated heading to RCA to check out some of the clubs there, but the weight of the last few days was beginning to pull at me, and I was in a very relaxed mood, so I opted for an early evening. Plus, that bottle of sake was calling to me. Next – A Day of Fowl Weather

June 26 – Market Forces I would hold that markets, as a concentration of edible mass, exert a specific attractive force upon random bodies, causing them either to fall into an elliptical orbit around the market, or else to be drawn completely in. I’m one of those ones that just gets sucked in. Our plan was to graze for more bits and pieces, and to pick up the heavier items (juices). But it’s hard not to stop and wave at cheerful little tomatoes such as these, whose kin we’d fed upon in our som tam. And conider these tiny cabbages. Halfway between a cabbage proper and an overlarge brussel sprout, about the size of my three middle fingers. I picked up a bag of the garlic on the right. It’s the wee little stuff from around Chiang Mai that has such a nice burn. This alongside grilled Korean meats is a treat for back home. Ah, here’s a proper dessert. Mango and sticky rice, the rice all sweet with coconut cream. And for nibbles there are plenty of the little egg yolk candies like I’d had at the Four Seasons a few nights back. While not much has been happening above the surface, the current situation with the government is on everyone’s mind. To one side I found some very nice, very fresh pomelo being infused with the current censure debate. I wonder? Does that give it a bitter taste, or is it more numbing? There were all sorts of bits and pieces wrapped up in sheets of gluten (what’s the Thai name for that stuff?). And you can see the active ferment going on in the ballooning of the bags of “stuff” to the side. There were also puffy bags of mushrooms. “Het ton”. What does “ton” mean in this case? The fungus itself hung in the fluid like those odd samples in jars at Siriraj Hospital. And the crabs, while not blowing up party balloons, had a nice, evil ferment about them, too. My mouth was watering at the thought of kejang in Korea, that softly rotting crab meat, slathered in sauce. The mounds of shredded pork looked good, all sweetness and stickiness, as opposed to the airy, light brown gossamer we usually see in the MBK port stores. Back towards the fish they were also selling fresh chestnuts. How is it that chestnuts and fish go together? I can’t really say, but the mix of smells was interesting. There was no shortage of wet stuff all prepped and ready to go. Curries and sauces, and pickled things. Oh, my. And these were…..sardines? Or mackerel? I'm horrible with fish. I know what shark looks like. Whatever, the meat looked excellent, black and falling apart in the soy and spices. I grabbed a bag of little intestine sacks stuffed with pork fat and other bits of the pig you’ll never identify in a lineup. Unskewered I can pop these like candy. Greasy candy, mind you….. But, there was no shortage of stuff on sticks. The squid had that lightly charred smell it gets, and the tentacles looked like it’d be worth having one or two. To the side were piles of good satay. But my appetite was beginning to flag. The attractive forces holding me to the market were beginning to flag. Khun Pete came through like a hero. He’d been asking around quietly for the bai cham poo that I’ve been looking for for ages, and found a place that had it by the bundle. I bought up three bundles, and made plans for dinner back home. In a last burst of willpower, I did follow Tim’s cue regarding these buns. These are the ones I was eating back in the earlier June 26 posting, the centers filled with green pandan custard. Tim loves these, and I can understand why. We took a last swing through the dry goods section, admiring the rinds and mushrooms….. and a trip to a Thai market isn’t a trip unless I get to see some sacks of chilis. And then we skidded past the rice bins. Jasmin, high grade, medium grade, black, purple, blue…there’s more colour and variety than at a Harajuku hair salon (smells nice, too). Our last stop was the heavy stuff, the fluids. Tim had some to pick up, and I was beglamoured by the tiger herbal. We inquired as to what it was, and the answer, deftly translated was “water with stuff in it”. We were done. And just in time, as there was the lightest spattering of rain coming down. We were all about to get in a taxi to get back to mor chit with our sacks of purchases, when I noticed that the Kamphaeng Phet underground station was right here. I love this place. This market just moved up to the top of my list, with perfect accessibility! I made quick farewells with Pete and Tim, and we arranged to meet again on Saturday (but I’ll talk more of that later). This had been a great morning out. Good company, a new market with aisles big enough to accommodate either an elephant or me, and the delight of finding easy access for the future. Once home I unpacked the groceries into the fridge, and started looking over some of my extended lunch. (and you can see the eating of it back here) Next - Old Friends Edited for the nonlinear effects of time

I believe the papaya/som tam is more a northern/isaan thing. Central plains area does it with unripe mango. I only know this because my auntie loves that dish and throws a hissy fit if it isn't served "correctly", i.e. with unripe mango. ← That's an interesting gradation I hadn't thought about. But you're right, I didn't see as much som tam (or tam maahaan) in Central Plains cuisine when I wandered through there (although that was a brief wander), and I did see more green mango (which I don't see much of in Laos). Similar to how how you can sort of split the country between coconut milk based curries in the Plains and South, and drier curries in the North and NorthEast. Likewise, one of my friends (well, rather the wife of my friend, from Khorat) was very unhappy with their trip to Chiang Mai. She liked the town well enough, but there wasn't any decent som tam to be had. Sort of like what happens when you separate a Korean from kim chi.

I haven't come across it loaded into a papaya salad, but it it wants to be a yam plaa dook foo, then, in the words of Popeye "I yam, what I yam". Tasted good, whatever we call it. I like that crumbly texture with the crunch of the som tam.

Darn! I wish I was back in Thailand. I just got one of those emails that has me gnawing on my fingers. If anyone's interested, the Dusit is doing a wine dinner on the 23rd showcasing the wines from Granmonte in the Asoke Valley of Thailand. I would really like it if someone (hint, hint) can catch this and report. One, I'm interested in what the Thai are trying to do with grapes and their soil. I think the recent move to tempranillos is a good thing, and I've had some chardonnays that aren't bad. Second, Khun Nikki is the first female Thai winemaker, and it would very interesting to hear her take on things. Third, I'm always interested in how to pair against the overpowering spices in Thai foods. Generally I lean towards either a clean cutting chardonnay, or else a gewurtz or riesling, but I want to see what they say. (I still hold that champagne works with anything). PM me with an email address, and I can forward you the menu (I've got it in my yahoo). It'll be at Benjarong, the Dusit's Thai restaurant.

June 26 – Momentous Decisions Our choices for lunch tipped two scales with roughly equal ponderance. We could grab something in the market stalls, or we could move over to a sit down restaurant. When given a choice like there is only one answer….. “Yes”. Our choice made we settled first on the sit down part of the meal, and postponed our market stalling for after. The sit down portion turned out to be a bit more challenging than we’d anticipated. The restaurant - “Sutjai kaiyang” – Sutjai grilled chicken (?) - (they advertise somtam, too) was packed to the gills. It was just after noon, and there was a line stringing out from the entrance into the parking lot. This would mean we’d have to wait. Lines are like that. However, as Pete pointed out, people generally don’t linger over lunches in Thailand. Not unless there’s a few bottles around, then it’s another matter. But the people here had business, and so were more interested in getting a good meal in a short period of time. Digesting that, it was obvious that we should go for some ice coffee. Right across the parking lot was an old style Thai ice coffee place that Tim liked. That’s good enough recommendation for me. We dropped our considerable load of groceries, and ordered some ice tea and ice coffee. It’s a nice little place. Kafe Sot? (As bad as I am with standard Thai script, it gets really confusing with the stylized versions). Lots of junk hanging off of everything, and a nice tree in the back with a shrine. I like these, especially when there ther for the spirits of the trees. It’s the Vancouverite in me. We’re strange for trees. But we didn’t stop here to pray, we stopped here for ice coffee. Thai ice coffee is a wonderful thing. Thick, dark coffee poured through a lump of condensed milk in a cheese cloth into a mass of ice cubes. These are better than milkshakes (and I like milkshakes). They were also selling a “fruit wine” drink called Kamikaze. What fruit wines have to do with suicidal aircraft, I’m not quite sure, but I made a note (which I misplaced) to get a bottle at Robinson’s later to try out. We relaxed over these and killed a few minutes trading stories of Thailand, New York, and everywhere. It was hot, I was dripping, but an ice cold coffee or tea can make the time go very pleasantly. Sure enough, once we’d finished our drinks and traversed the 20 m back to the restaurant, there was no line up blocking the crash helmeted and caped rooster. This was a good sign. Of course we had to order the chicken. Nicely marinaded, lightly grilled, with harldy any burn, and the meat cooked fully through. Good, but I’d still probably give pride of place to Likhit Gaiyang over near Rachadamnoern (although I haven’t checked it out since the fire, and the demonstrations would keep me away this trip). Not one of their house specials here, but I hardly ever let the opportunity to eat pork pass me by. Tim shares my view. Pork is good. Especially grilled pork neck in Thailand. This was quite nice, not overcooked at all, as it can often be in beer joints (not that I want you to think that I frequent beer joints!) What they did have a house special (besides the chicken) was the som tam. This was was loaded with fluffy catfish, something you see a lot of in yams, but here came with papaya. And then a som tam Thai, with the ubiquitous tomatoes. One can never have too much som tam. And sticky rice (khao niao). You have to have khao niao. Plastic wrapped to avoid drying. Not as pretty as the bamboo baskets, but just as effective. A very good Isaan Thai meal, and with the heat and humidity it was worthwhile for an old guy like me to take the break. Plus, I know had a place here to base from when I came back. But we could only stay still for so long. The market was calling to us. Or was that Tim’s cell phone? Next – Once More Into The Breach

I don't know that it qualifies as smuggling, per se, but here's a shot of Scud's luggage. He arrived back here from Canada the day after I returned from Thailand. One suitcase, one cardboard box, one hand carry. (if you're concerned, yes, he did have one set of spare clothing in his hand luggage). Coffee just happens to be really expensive, and I like the Mexican Blue Mountain (I like the Jamaican better, but I'm having to go for bulk). And nobody makes a better cracker, in my opinion (that's Gatorade powder underneath for Serena's baseball games). I do wonder what Customs would say if they checked his bags (and they do check, quite often). In Egypt, way back when, we loaded up our in-laws with stuff, and they were checked. "We do have food in Egypt, you know." "Oh, we're very sorry! We weren't certain." Luckily, the Egyptians are too nice to bother tourists.

Er... are you sure they weren't pulling a foreigner's leg? ← Like I said, it could very well be a rural myth. But it's amazing what you can find behind a pachyderm.

It may be an urban (or suburban....heck, rural) myth, but long ago friends of mine who'd lived in Malaysia talked of how the best durian were those that had been eaten by an elephant. The elephant can't digest the durian, so they pass through, and lightly cook in the body heat. The durian are then collected and clamoured for. Is this the first instance of sous vide?

June 26 – To Market, To Market Earlier in the thread, Tim (TB88) had made the offer to do a trip up to Or Tor Kor. This isn’t something I’m likely to turn down, given that Tim has been in the thick of things here for the last few months. Even better, he had the very civilized approach of doing the market at 11:00 a.m., rather than one of these insane dawn patrols that I normally get into. Bonus. I met Tim over at his work in progress – Butler’s - in the bottom of Gaysorn Plaza. I won’t go into a lot of detail now, as I’m going to cover him in more detail in a couple of days (non-linear time). But, having seen what he’s accomplishing at this time, I was even more grateful that he had the time for this trip in his schedule. Tim, Pete (Tim’s sous chef), and I headed up from the Chidlom station to Mor Chit and the Chatuchak (JJ) market. Or Tor Kor – also known as the “rich man’s market” – had been on my list of “places to check out” for a few years now. It surfaces from time to time in the papers, and I always read through with interest. But you know me, I’m lazy. When I’d first read of it, the main topic was how it was offering a source for the Royal Projects goods coming in. Prices here are higher than in the other markets, but you hope that you’re getting quality for that few extra baht. Hence “rich man’s market”. The market, across from Chatuchak, is the exact opposite of a tourist market. It’s clean, well organized, and there are wide walkways between the stands affording easy access. No scenic photo opps of rats gnawing on abandoned foodstuffs, or beggars clutching at buyers’ legs. Nope, this is a place meant for buying food. Good food. It’s that simple. That’s why Tim and Pete were here. To buy food. They had a list. I appreciate it when people have a plan. We hit the market and started checking things out. Tim’s already got a good feel for what’s what and where, and what the different ingredients are, and having Pete there made it perfect, as he could readily work out what the equivalents were for some of the things we were looking at. Flowers to begin with for Onigiri (Rona’s had her Dosa, that should keep her satisfied for a little while). I miss fresh flowers, having grown used to them being cheap and plentiful in Egypt. And when we were in Chiang Mai I would cross the Ping every morning to get fresh flowers from the Chinese market across from us. Christopher Moore, in his novel Gambling On Magic, had an interest subtext of feng shui with flowers. I wonder if that’s being marketed? Along with flowers, the other thing I miss is fresh fruit. Rambutan, those wild Rastafarian lychees (yeah, somebody will take exception, but that’s how I see them) are an easy thing to have as a snack. I started buying. I just can't help myself. And mangosteen are another favourite. The stains are nigh impossible to get out of your clothes, but the flavour is great. Actually, come to think of it, these were my first two “Thai fruits” I had back in 1988 when I first came to the Land of Smiles, and part of the reason I keep returning. This was a surprise. This (according to the sign and Peter) is cham poo. And those leaves would be bai cham poo, the ones we were discussing in another thread for use in miang kam. I’d been thinking this was betel nut leaf. The meat of the “rose apple” (as its called) is very crispy, more reminiscent of a Korean pear than an apple of any sort. And there were all sorts of exotic fruits, like cherries and peaches and apples available. And not all from the “farmers cooperatives”. We recognized the cherries as imports from the US. But they still looked good. Ah. The King of Fruits. Durian. This didn’t smell as bad a s I recall, and I wonder if this is the “odourless durian” from Laplae in Uttaradit? (What does kanyao mean?) But what’s the point of durian if it doesn’t smell? and here’s a collection of various and sundry sundries. Eggplants, bamboo, chilies, kafir limes, and oranges. “I’m used to oranges being orange”, says Tim. I have a fetish from mushrooms having been influenced by reading the Lord of the Rings at too young an age. And I found these, another variety that falls under the Thai word for mushroom, but these are closer to the dessert truffles of the Arabian Peninsula, a mycoxia found in the hills of Kanchanaburi. And fresh young galanga. And I found bag after bag of the ginko nuts I’d enjoyed at Jok’s Kitchen (yup, another purchase). Asparagus. Thai asparagus, the small little shoots, is almost as good as the Bhutanese now. But you can only drool so much over greens. For real food porn you need meat. Either off the hoof, or out of the sea. Blue prawns, piled in ice. And shellfish galore to warm the blood cockles of your heart. Squid, not too big, but not as delicate as the Japanese (oh, I do miss those small, squirting little squids). Some nice looking scallops. Albeit denuded. I can taste the seared scallops with uni from the Four Seasons as I look at these. And with their clothes on they look even more attractive. And we found these roe, the size of grapes. It’s unclear where they come from, but it’s a fresh water fish from the Mekong. Given the size, I wonder if these are from those huge catfish they pull out of the river. You’ll get catfish on the order of 15 or 20 feet long from up there. Compared to these ballbearing-sized ova, the roe sack to the side is a mere dalliance. And I always enjoy facing down a crab. At least when it’s claws are tied up. It’s sort of an Arnold vs Terminator moment. This picture appeals to me in a French revolutionary sort of way. It’s a disarming thought to consider the number of paraplegic crabs that must be out there. And there were some stacozas, or tanglat, the thalidomide children of the crayfish world. Still, they’re almost all meat, and have a very sweet flavour. I like to lightly grill these back home, and then use them in a salad (yam). This was cute. Pete translated it as “if you find any metal in the food, bring it back”. There’d been problems before (but I recall it from around 2001) of some folks adding lead pellets to their seafood to get the weights up. Up above the high water mark there was plenty of good looking stuff, and it was easier to ascertain that it wasn’t carrying any buckshot. Dried meats. The wet jerkies of SouthEast Asia, sweet and soft to chew. And there was some beef with enough extra fat to make fries. I became quite excited at the offals. I could work with these. And there was plenty more attractive pork, similar to what we’d seen in Chinatown, but just a lot cleaner (and I like having things laid out on banana leaves. Don’t ask me why, it just feels nicer). And what’s a day at the market without some nice boudin (and all it entrails)? By this point we were starting to get really hungry. Food does that to us. Tim had a couple of options, and we weighed these appropriately. It seemed to be about the time to trot over somewhere for a bite. Next – Options Weighed, Decisions Made

I think my preference for The Four Seasons Bangkok is pretty much a matter of record. It's hard to beat foie gras and free flowing wine and cocktails for a Sunday afternoon. The cost-effective part I'm not so sure about.......

Cheese in Mongolia? MONGOLIA??? Er... ok sorry but this does have me curious. Is it horse cheese? I think they like mare's milk don't they? ← Better mare than stallion! But that's a topic for another time. We need to get to the market next.

Well spotted! I zoomed in to check, and the St. Mere (one of the drop zones in the Normandy operation) does have a stick imbedded. Checking the details, the outer mold looks to envelope the stick, so it's not an extra added later on. Now, why is it there? We're going to have to ask the experts. Anyone? P.S.- I love that pattern on the cheese. P.P.S. - cheese is getting to be more accessible in Bangkok but it's still an uphill battle. I do admit the smell isn't pleasant to the local nose, and the thickness of fat can be oppressive, but I do dearly miss a nice bit of cheese when I'm abroad. P.P.P.S. - don't ask me about cheese in Mongolia.

June 25 – Memories of Meals Missed “I do so relish these times of peril” Sheen – Jimmy Neutron, Boy Genius The tagline of this thread is supposed to be Dining in the times of trouble. You may have noticed by now that, outside of the Lion’s Club shutting down central Bangkok for their parade, we’ve been noticeably lacking in political turmoil. Ah, those boisterous Lions. A particular aspect of Bangkok – for me – is that, once a few chores are done – I really don’t have to do anything. I can float. I’ve seen the temples, done the museums, visited the pathology clinics, and played with the body snatchers. On a day like today, I was free to do not much at all, and I set to it with a passion. I took my machine and went to the Londoner for a pint of cream bitter. Once there, I grabbed a paper. I follow the local papers. The Bangkok Post is one of my favourite rags, with more written between the lines than on them. Tensions had reached such a fever pitch today that the Post carried a lead photo of Khun Samak (the prime minister, or rather self-announced proxy prime minister for the ousted Thaksin Shinawatra) folding origami cranes during the ongoing censure debate. At least he stayed awake. As I’d mentioned in the Dosa King part of this thread, there was an active attempt to engage the public’s attention over the Wat Preah Vihean story. This is a beautiful Khmer temple (or rather, the remains of it) built on the cliffs of the Dongrak Mountains, looking over the plains of Cambodia below (I was there back in 2001 when I was working through Michael Freeman’s excellent Khmer Temples in Thailand & Laos). After some serious flare ups over ownership in the 1950’s, the International Court ruled in favour of awarding custody of the temple to Cambodia in 1962. Now they’re trying to get UNESCO to add it to the catalogue of world heritage sites, and in so doing have raised the old border demarcation issues. This, in turn, has been fanned into an issue of nationalist pride. All this over 10m of concession stands. Rather convenient. Those are the headlines. In food related news, the other stories were interesting. Consider the snack box that had turned up recently. Lawyers for a certain ex-prime minister showed up at court with a snack box containing 2 million baht. On video they were found asking some folks in the judiciary if they wouldn’t mind looking after it for them. Nice snack. And, meanwhile, Mr. Samak was under investigation for hosting a cooking programme on tv. They feel this could be “unconstitutional”. I guess it’s a matter of how much of his food show your constitution can take. I folded over the paper, and contemplated my afternoon’s accomplishments while sipping at the creamy head of the bitter. (This is an older photo posted back in 2006, but trust me, the beer still looks the same) After lunch I’d taken care of some tailoring, checked out Asia Books, and then headed over to soi 15. Rona had recommended Yong Lee for duck. I figured I could fit in another bite or two. But, when I arrived at the venerable street corner shambles at 2:30, I was told they weren’t serving. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you. Then I dropped into Robison’s to see what was available. This ties back to my rant of June 26 And this in turn led directly to my decision, at 4:50, to grab a cab up to Villa 33. There I bumped into Fabio from Giusto down on soi 23. He was just getting out of his car, and we exchanged pleasantries. That got me thinking of good Italian food (and Giusto is very good) and that got me thinking of wine, and from wine I started thinking of things I like to drink….and so I headed for Fuji. See, I can manage a train of thought. It’s just that each car has a different gauge. At Fuji I found that bottle of daiginshu I nursed through the rest of my trip. I had it carefully bagged, and, as I read the paper and made notes, it rested peacefully behind the bar. As the Londoner was just down the street from Villa 33 and Fuji, and as it was open, it seemed like an appropriate place to rest and wait for my friends. You see, being a Wednesday, it’s Happy Hour all night long, which means 2 for 1 beers. I knew I could count on my mates showing up. It’s like staking out a waterhole in migration season. I continued to read. There are a number of people writing from Bangkok (books that is), and, as they’ve said, where else could you have such a wealth of material just pouring out of the newspaper pages for you? I’d quote more stories, but nothing close enough to a food topic. I’ve been far enough astray this post as is. My associates arrived as expected, and the night evolved – again, as one would expect. Finally, around 8:30 a crucial choice arose. Head for dinner, or take in a party? This was a monthly meet-up of the film industry people, and seemed like a good chance to catch up with some of our people. I gathered my things (particularly the sake) and we set off down the street to the Sheraton. BarSu’s the latest squatter in that space at the street entrance to the Sheraton Grande. I think Riva’s was here before. Big open space. DJ to one side. Reasonable list of cocktails. I pointed at a menu and ordered something, and then Paul and I tagged up with some of our other people from the film, and from there it was a matter of chatting and yacking and trading cards. The good side was that the food, mainly nibbles, wasn’t bad. I had a skewer of beef with eggplant that did pretty much melt in my mouth. I was wondering if they were using the Sichuan bean flour that I use. But then again, being Thailand, they may just have marinated with papaya. Whatever, it was soft. The bad side is that, while they advertise as a “space” to carrouse, conversation was difficult. Still, we made do. I met up with one fellow who was handling storyboards, who turned out to be one of Marvel’s nomadic horde of cartoonists, and the two of us were busy discussing that end of the business for ages. Finally, my voice gave out. I can only shout for so long. Paul was in much the same shape. We made our farewells, finished our drinks, thought about ordering more drinks, and then thought better of it and packed out. It’s strange thing when you consider lower Sukhumvit “quiet”. We crossed up to the BTS, Paul headed for home, and I walked down the other side for my place. Somehow, I seemed to have missed a meal. How could this happen? Mind you, I had a nice bottle of sake now! Next – Hunger