Peter Green

June 25 – The Return of the King I wouldn’t say that I’m against vegetarian restaurants. I can’t think of a single instance when I’ve had a bone to pick with them. That said, it is usually a difficult task to get me through the door of any place that isn't welling to sell dead meat (heck, even still squirming). But, if I am going to try and flesh out a meal, then at least the Asians can make it interesting. I’d mentioned before that Kinnaree was offering some neat vegetarian dishes in line with the Sino-Thai traditions of Bangkok. Another strong vegetarian influence is through the direct South Asian link. And that brings us to Dosa King, a South Indian vegetarian restaurant (and they do North Indian, too). All part of my carefully prepared strategy of canvassing the culinary traditions of Krungthep. Yeah, yeah, I’m just blowing smoke. I’m here because I’m scared of Rona. I know that, after three years of being told to eat here, I'd better pull it off this time, otherwise, there'll be no more pound cake for me. I’d woken up fairly early, had some noodles on the street (and was too wine-besotten to take any pictures) and then had called up Ellen to see if she could make an early lunch. She was in the neighborhood, so this seemed like a good chance to catch up on stuff that we hadn't had time for at Jok's. Our timing was going to work out, and she and her husband could meet me a little after 11. I headed over with my laptop, with the intent to catch up on a bit of writing. Dosa King used to be up the street on soi 17 or 19, I can never remember which. I’d always see the sign when I was going past Robinson’s, and had sort of consigned it to the background of Indian places along this stretch of Sukhumvit. But, it had come heavily recommended by Rona, and this was the third trip that I’d planned on eating here. Three’s the charm. There’s a curse on this place. I arrived at around 11:05, and wondered why the lights were out and the Closed sign was up. But then one of the staff went in, so I figured this was a good omen. I followed in her wake. It seems that, yes, they do open at 11, but “something wasn’t ready”. Still, they were kind enough to turn on the lights, and kick-off the a/c. Being first in the door, I positioned myself in the path of maximum cool (I’m getting very skilled at predicting air circulation patterns). Soon the other tables started to fill, small family groups gathering to communaly scream into their cell phones. I wrote a little, and then Ellen entered. We ordered some Lassi for her, and a pineapple punch for me. After the liver abuse I’d undertaken for the last few days, this made a nice break. And as a very pleasant bonus, she was followed soon after by her husband. He and I share a number of common interests (even beyond food), so this was happily met. We settled into the menus, and starting making suggestions for something to put some flesh on our bones. As a comment, while menus with pictures can be a big benefit when you’re dining outside of your culinary background (as I was here), they can really slow things down. A printed menu, you just pays your money and takes your chances. Here we were befuddled by the decision making process. “That looks good!” “I wonder what that’s like?” “Hey, what’s this?” “Shinyyyyyyy!” Okay, none of us actually said “shiny”, but that’s the overall effect. Like deer in the headlights we gazed, rapt, at what was available. This is what happens when you get eGullet people together. Finally, as an anarcho syndicalist commune, we made our choices and put in the order. The staff were very patient, I must say. So, after all that, what did we eat? Okay, bear with me. I’ve been in India a couple of times, but it was long ago, and food wasn’t our focal point. So, when I put the pictures up now, from last week, I’ll be quite happy if anyone can jump in and correct me if I get the names wrong. First on the table was papdi chat (?). This was the equivalent of nachos, with wafers of chick pea providing crunch under the layerings of sauce, sour cream, greens, and general stuff. Idli sambar came next, a steamed cake made with fermented flour. This was soft, and made a good, neutral foil for the various and sundry pastes and condiments that had appeared on the table. These three made a good mix of wet and tangy (red is my favourite flavour); green and pasty (I could make a school project for Serena with this); and the third a smoother, mushier thing, with crispy bits on top (take that as a cry for help - does anyone recognize the names and details of these items?). Then there was our first dosa, a paneer dosa. I’m fond of paneer, so when I saw this as an option, I jumped for it. Again, there’s a selection of condiments to go with this, including turmeric coloured pickles which I like. Southern Indian ties nicely into a survey of Thailand, as Theravada Buddhism came here through the south of the Subcontinent (Ceylon) and, along with the shamanistic and Chinese elements, makes up a large part of the complexion of modern Thailand. Likewise, much of the rest comes through contact with the Khmer, Cambodia’s culture being much more Hindu influenced historically, although that, too, gave way to Buddhism. (As an interesting side note, it was the Thai Sangha that were charged with reestablishing the Sangha in Sri Lanka, after Dutch oppression in the 1700’s caused it to break down). Okay, “contact” is a polite word for repeated invasions and occupations of Cambodia by the Siamese. That’s not a topic for now, other than to mention that there was an interesting focus in the news on Wat Preah Vihear these last few weeks. A coincidence, perhaps, that in times of internal conflict an external conflict (over roughly 10m of ground) should come into the spotlight? But, I’m getting away from the food. Where were we? Ah, yes...we're “raita” here! We had a raita, this one a “raita mix boondi”, to cleanse the palate. Bobbing chick peas and dusting of spices. Cool and refreshing. And, if you’re going to have raita, you have to have nan. And if you’re eating anything, you have to have garlic. So we ordered a nice buttery piece of garlic nan for the mopping up operations. We’d been recommended the korma, so of course we had to order a serving of the navratan korma. I believe I’ve got the picture right. This came with sweet slices of Thai pineapple on top. And another dosa. This is “Dosa” King, after all. This was a ravo dosa masala. I’ve had dosas before, it was just a long time ago, and we didn’t know what they were called then. How do you eat these things, though? Ellen’s husband finally took the initiative and broke it down into pieces, but then you’re playing hit or miss with the stuffings inside. Desserts were very nice, and different from what I’m used to. The ras malaki is paneer in sweetened milk. Slightly gritty (in a crystalline manner) and really good. And the other dessert was a pista kulki (?), really an Indian sundae, but with the ice cream (sweet and rich) flanked with melon, the banana moved to capping positions fore and aft. We wrapped up with masala chai, a sweet cup of hot, milky tea. Ellen’s husband noted the way that it holds a light film of cream on top, a signature scum of this drink, if you would. A nice lunch, again benefiting from the company. There’s nothing like having a southern Indian lunch in Bangkok, and taking the opportunity to further my education in matters Japanese (as Ellen and her significant other are a great resource in this respect). It was now mid-day on the 25th. I had three and a half more days of eating ahead of me. What was next? Next – Interlude

That's a large part of why I'm fascinated by Bangkok. It has (if you look) pretty much everything. You can take breakfast at a noodle stand in the market, snack on excellent sake and a bagful of sausages, lunch on royal Thai cuisine, grab another snack in the food courts (good curries and pork braises), dine in the height of expat luxury, and then grab some deep fried crickets and a few bottles of Beer Lao on the street in the late hours. It's this variety that keeps me coming back. What more can you ask for from this life?

My favourites on this topic are probably fairly predictable. I'm a great fan of the World Gourmet Fest in Bangkok. This is held at the Four Seasons, and runs for one week. This year, the dates are set for September 22 through 28. The Fest is generally run around multiple overlapping wine dinners, cooking classes/lunches, and some seminar work (generally on wines). The event is run in support of a local charity supporting children at risk of HIV. My partiality here is that the events are all contained within the 4S, which provides a cozy atmosphere for the week, with everyone in close enough proximity to start developing some good crossover material. For me, it's the total immersion element on a day by day basis that I enjoy. You can observe how the chefs perform away from their normal comfort zone, and you're in a great position for direct comparisons. Plus, I don't have to leave the air-conditioning. A little further south, Singapore annually hosts the World Gourmet Summit. This is a larger production, spanning two weeks and multiple venues. Due to a certain airline dropping their direct flights to Singapore, I haven't been back to this (as I'd planned this year). Whereas the WGF was self-contained, the WGS - sponsored by the Singapore Tourist Bureau and Peter Knipp Holdings - is designed to spread things around the city, with dinners in a number of venues, chefs hosted across local restaurants, and cooking classes held in some very impressive facilities at the Tourist Bureau. You'll get to see a lot more of the town, but (at least in my case) you'll be doing it in the heat wearing a jacket and tie. Still, for the opportunity to dine and party in some places you'd never normally be allowed to, this is fun. Both cities host other culinary events, but I'll limit my comments to these two items, as I've not attended the others. I know that Kuala Lumpur has also worked up their own event, but again, I can't say much about that outside of the advertising. Cheers, Peter

June 24 – “You! You! James Bond!” The Lion’s Club was in town. “Yeah, yeah, so what does that have to do with the price of tea in China?” Well……..as pertains to me, quite a bit. You see, I needed to get from my place at Asoke and Sukhumvit over to the Four Sesasons for dinner. And Rachadamri would be closed off to traffic. And the traffic would be a mess. And I needed to wear a tux. It was the tux part in particular that was getting to me. I know, I know. “Who brings a tuxedo to Thailand?” I do. It comes in handy. So, there I am. On the Skytrain, BTS, rot fai fa, whatever you want to call it, with my jacket over my sleeve and my bowtie askew. The trick is just to keep things under control, move slowly, and try to hold in the four gallons of perspiration that wants out. And now I’m an overweight Sean Connery trying to look incongruous in the mass transit system as the crowd crane their collective head to get a better look at the fat farang to see when he melts. To my credit, I almost made it through the side door of the hotel before the taps burst open. It’s not a pretty picture. I think there was something like it in the first X-Men movie. Luckily, I had plenty of time, and used it to sponge down in the gents. Somewhat more composed (or at least less dendritic), I made my way carefully into the lobby, and had a discussion regarding the forthcoming World Gourmet Fest in September. I now know pretty much how that wonderful week will pass, but I’m sworn to secrecy (for now). My charming confidante walked me to Madison (where I’d brunched just days before) and was again in the midst of friends old and new. I really like these dinners. You’re surrounded by people who live for food, and the chef – whoever is hosting – generally does a great job, as they know they’re cooking for people who are there for the food, as opposed to using it as a backdrop for a business meal. My friend, M, and her husband were part of this great company. They’d both been with me at Vientiane Kitchen the night before; she’d organized lunch; and now they were back here for this evening. We started with a Schramsberg Blanc de Blancs 2003, a nice sparkling number that jump started conversation. As we talked the staff brought about the appetizers. I’m sorry, but even I’m not crass enough to pull out a camera in the midst of company and shoot passing h’ordourves. I did think about it, though. For the nibblies, we had carrot cured salmon; prawn “salad” on dill croutons; chicken liver pate; and pate foie gras on a bit of toast with basil “caviar”. Our first course was Maine Lobster & Salmon Roe with Yuzu Marinade and Onion Ice Cream (and my apologies for the poor shot). A beautiful dish. My only complaint, and it’s not a complaint, is that all of us were having so much fun with the onion ice cream that we hardly thought about the lobster and ikura that were there in the green jelly. Serena and I both hold that any good meal should start with ice cream. The wine with this was a Conundrum Sauvignon Blan-Muscat-Chardonnay-Viognier 2006 A word on the wines. Dana, from the Roadhouse, and Joe, from Pacific Cigar, had spent a lot of time pretasting in the days before, and then labouring over the wine selection. The menu raised eyebrows, as we generally lean to reds, and this was heavily canted to whites, but the Conundrum, one of Dana’s favourites, was a good choice as an opener, with that interesting blend of grapes. Our next course was Seared Scallops with Truffle Vinaigrette This was served with pretty little orange lumps of uni nestled amongst the scallops, which in turn rested upon a bed of leek. We pulled the leak apart in strands. There were little daubs of red tobiko (I think that’s what it was) and a mustard sauce distributed about. The wine this time was Joseph Phelps Sauvignon Blanc 2005. This was, perhaps, the favourite white of the night for a lot of people (at least at our table). Again, it was a good choice, working very well with the dry goodness in the seared scallops, and the rich fat of the uni. Next came our fish. Cod Fish Fillet, Walnut Herb Coated & Roasted Shallot Sauce To the side was some caramelized fennel. A pleasant enough bit of fish, but I do think I was spoiled by the snowfish earlier at Jok’s. The wine with this was a Pahlmeyer “Jayson” Chardonnay from 2005. This was probably my favourite of the whites. Some sweetness to it, and a bit of fruit. It was not the standard “industrial” chardonnay, by any means. And then, for the mains, a familiar dish. Short Rib & Wagyu Striploin, Braised and Charcoaled, With Zucchini Lemon Fregula. I say familiar, as I know I’ve seen this pairing before at the WGF. It was 2006, with Michael Minha. The similarities end with the pairing of ribs and wagyu, though. Michael had accompanied his meats with horseradish mashed potatoes, and had roasted his wagyu (Kobe beef, actually, was the title). Here the chef had roasted the potato, having scooped out the middle to give a resting place for the jus, sort of like the hollow in the head of a Kappa. The short rib was just as good as Minha’s. Fatty, rich, braised to the point of the meat falling apart. The other side of the plate was quite different. There was a nice stuffed zucchini flower that had been deep fried. And the wagyu, grilled, was resting atop the fregula (a Sardinian pasta, sort of like couscous in look). This meat was better than Minha’s. Just at the right colour and degree, and the fat in the beef smooths it out in your mouth. I still like the short rib better for what it does to my arteries, but this is good, too. Nicholas Schneller, the Executive Chef here, had had a part in things, but a of the credit goes to Khun Anchalee Ponrungsit, the sous chef at Madison. And, as a note, she is one of the first female Thai chefs to lead a kitchen team in a Western restaurant in Thailand. We were winding down now, and lingering over our last wine. This was the Pine Ridge “Stags Leap” Cabernet Sauvignon 2000” that represented our lone red on the menu tonight. A nice wine, and we called the bottles back quite a few times. Our dessert was a ganache of Araguani Chocolate infused with tangerine. It was topped with a bit of bread, and sided by olive oil and a toasted almond. I considered a cappuccino, but then thought better of it and just had some more wine. Reza (the manager at Madison) is quite used to my ways. And, finally, our sweets came. White chocolate with a hint of coconut, dark chocolate with a soft liqueur centre, and a Borg Continuum marshmellow. At this point we began to break up, exchanging cards, and making final recommendations on other places to eat, books to read, and groceries to buy. We made it as far as the courtyard entrance, and then ran into more people to exchange greetings with. Finally I was poured into the car, and taken back home by my friends. Next: Return of the King

Wow, he actually fries whole races? With garnishes, at that! I had read about Jok's some time ago, and thought I wanted to try it. But now I think I can give it a pass. It's not that the food doesn't look good, but it doesn't look good enough to go through the trouble of making a reservation a couple of months in advance, etc. Boy, I really wish I had some dosa, though! ← *falls off chair laughing* Um... I can just hear the conversation at the table. "Hey Peter could you get me some of that fried race?" "Sure. What would you like?" "Uhh, a bit of Asian, Caucasian, and African. Oh, and just for fun, a couple Hispanics." "Ok, here you go. Enjoy." *roflmao* Ok ok sorry Peter. Skin of a kwai, right? Hey at least I'm not the one poking at ya for food. You better be getting down to that dosa place dude. Patience is not a Thai girl on egullet's virture it seems. (j/k P!) ← Hmmm.....fry up some white race? Hmph! I let you people drink from the stream of consciousness, and you start complaining about blood in the water. Now, you're going to have to bear with me from this point forward. I returned home two days ago, and Scud showed up yesterday, so my writing is now filling those interstitial moments of the day. But I am working on things. I dunno....dosa...do I remember something about dosas?

June 24 – Chinatown Submerged There’s a feel to the alleyways of Chinatown in the midst of the noonday sun. This wasn’t Sam Pang -“Three Banks”; describing the oxbow in which it rests – where the Chinese merchants of fallen Ayutthya first settled, the palace then in Thonburi across the river. Nor was it Yaowarat central, the main drag, choked with vehicles and food stands. This was just a small alley connecting two streets, and so the tempo was quieter, softer. Call it a “frantic languidness” and you might be getting close. Around us there was a bustle of industry, of getting things done, things prepared, things sold. But it was all happening as if in slow motion, or under water. Given the humidity, and my degree of perspiration after only a few minutes outside of Jok’s, underwater may be the more precise term. This can be a good thing, though, as it slows you down and has you stopping to look, listen and smell. This was a good place for all three. Like a reef offshore, there was food everywhere. There were bins of dried mushrooms, and cakes of seaweed piled up and settled. There were pork rinds, and things slowly floating in tubs of jaundiced water. And there was some of the most beautiful fried pork I’ve ever seen. I so wanted to buy a piece of this to snack upon, but the groaning restraint of my belt - like a skiff overloaded - suggested that that may not be a wise decision. We saw the younger brethren of the crabs we’d eaten, and sweet little shrimg spiraled out as if in some crustacean mandala. And more crispy rinds (pork, I would assume, as this is Chinatown) floating above another drift of mushrooms. Like cuttlefish, these stewing bladders slowly circulated, bobbing like corpses in a thickening broth, a sight that takes me back to Chengdu. And, as you came out of the alley into the direct sun, there were schools of fish in the sunlight. These pictures hardly touch upon the variety of shapes and sizes of fish to be had, all layed out in death in their shared bamboo coffins. And fruit, the smell of freshly cut mango and pineapple was mixed in with the tendrils of grilling pork and chicken from the vendors out here, and the motor exhaust from the cars now thronging the streets like sharks in the deeper water. We drifted back to the temple. This was fronted with the material for tham bun – “making merit” – prepacked sets for the support of the monks. Bright colours fascinating the eye. And finally a wrapped tree, the cloth hugging it like seaweed, home also to a spirit of its own, marked the entrance to the temple/parking lot and the airconditioned false environment of our car. I felt like the lizard on the cloth, or a diver under the water again. Wait patiently, but with eyes darting about. A pleasant swim. A bit hot, and a bit humid, but as long as you don’t do something stupid, a day you can enjoy. Next: Doing Something Stupid

June 24 – Jok’s Kitchen I’d been hearing about this place for some time. There had been the write-up in the Post, and then I started bumping into folks that had been here for a business dinner or something, and then one of my friends (we’ll call her “M”) had dinner there a few weeks back and loved it. Jok is a very affable man, and likes to chat with his patrons after he’s done in the kitchen. Given that M is equally affable, they hit it off very well. As Jok had been in the crab business, and had traveled extensively in the Southern Seas - with a lot of time in the Indonesian archipelago – the two of them hit it off famously. So, when she told me that she could arrange to get us in when I came to Bangkok, I jumped. I jumped quite high, in fact. Thus, on the 24th, we were scheduled for lunch in Yaowarat, at Jok’s Kitchen, a restaurant that has broken out of the hidden circle of word-of-mouth to be reknown for Chinese (Teochieu) seafood in Bangkok. The best way to do this is to treat it as a table de chef. Jok knows a lot better than us what he can do well, and I see no reason not to trust him in this (I’m not as stupid as I look. It’d be pretty hard, actually) You don’t want to do a meal like this with a small group. So both M and I put the word out, and soon had a respectable throng of eight, including two of her Japanese friends (which is always a bonus, they are always excellent table companions); an expatriate American with a sense of humour as dry as a good martini; my friend the director, Paul, fresh off an interesting American film here (but we’re sworn to secrecy); Nick, who’d just come in from assignment in Nigeria (and deserved a good meal); and our own Flying Rat, Ellen, who’s come to rest in Krungthep for the next little while (lucky!). Eight is a good number. The first adventure, of course, is getting this number of people in one place at the same time. It’s sort of a quantum physics thing. Five of us came down in one vehicle, parking as per the Bangkok Post's instructions at Wat Kanikopol, a wat with an interesting history, having been built in 1910 through the channeling of funds to make merit by prostitutes of the era. (It’s amazing what you can learn on the internet). From the parking lot the next feat was to work down Trok Issaranuphap. This is a narrow alley connecting Phlap Phla Chai and Charoen Krung. The reason it’s a feat is because of why it’s narrow. This alley is full of neat stuff to stop and drool over, but luckily we had a few level heads to keep us moving and on track (obviously, I was not one of the level ones). It’s good that one of us knew where we were going, as I was too busy rubbernecking to notice the little sign, which is all the notice you get. You enter through a narrow defile amidst the vendors, and then pass through the front room, with one table, through a back alley (and this is a real alley) and into another room fronting onto the kitchen, which has two tables in it. And then you sit at a table. Then it was purely a matter of pulling the remaining diners in from the street as they wandered into the general orbit of Jok’s. Thank heavens for cell phones, as I remember how much fun this was in the distant past, posting lookouts in the heat to catch passersby. Sort of like watching for quark, strangeness, and charm in a particle accelerator. Actually, I like the quantum physics analogies. Our table provided plenty of “charm”, and I can more than make up a fair share of strangeness. I’m just left wondering about “quark”…… Finally, everyone was in place. The story in the Post covers the rapid expansion of the restaurant, but I’ll summarize it a bit here. This started off with Jok cooking for his friends, with his business being the crab farming/distribution side of things. Then his friends brought their friends, and their friends brought their friends. Everything spread by word of mouth. At some magical point he decided he might as well make a business of it, as he really does love cooking. And he managed this while still retaining that passion. He was a single table for ages, the one out front, until he finally added on the tables fronting the kitchen. As in the Post story, this is where we sat. Many of the dishes we had matched those of the Post, which makes my writing a lot easier, except I didn’t realize it at the time and kept notes. Ah well, it’s good practice. Jok doesn’t seem to mind people bringing things, in fact, I think you might need to have someone run next door if you do want something to cleanse the palate. I’d picked up a magnum of Moet & Chandon, and, barring a ship christening suddenly coming up, this meal seemed to me to be an appropriate venue. (And they had a very nice ice bucket to handle it, too). I am one of those folks who believes that champagne goes with everything. And it was a pretty good match for what we would be eating today, as the flavours were all fairly rich and soft, rather than any sharp burns. Our first dish (in line with the Post description) was one of shrimp dumplings, topped with crispy fried garlic, fried shallots (crispy as well), and the mandatory sprinkling of spring onions. These were soft, soft, soft, and had a wonderful opening flavour for the meal, really filling out your mouth. And they go well with champagne. So there! Next was the snowfish. This came crisp on the outside, with a subcutaneous layer of fat that went marvelously with the crunch of the skin. Dress this with strands of red capsicum and a hint of sesame oil and soy, and the fish, rich and yielding, is something I will long remember (I can taste it now). Similar raves go for the duck. This was smoked (tea smoked?), and had a beautiful flavour. Going by the Post, this isn’t Jok’s work itself, but comes from his neighbor’s shop, which is famous for its duck. It had been warmed through, and the smell was perfect for me, with the background of game I so like in fowl. Jok’s fame, as we said, had come from his work as a crab man, and what he served was excellent. It looked to be four large “black” crabs that had been broken up and steamed, and then garnished with a handful of coriander to open up you nose against that wall of cholesterol you have with good crab. I like crab. I particularly liked these crabs. Prawns, however, I can take or leave. But these were very good, crisp and sweet. I was just more interested in the ginko nuts and kale that formed the backdrop than I was with the prawns themselves. And the same sort of goes for the abalone. I appreciate that it’s “the thing” to have, and it was very good, with a nice crunch to the meat, but it was the mushrooms and the greens (was that gai lan? Crisp and refreshing) that I liked the most in this, with its rich soy based sauce. Okay, the abalone was really good, too. I just prefer it as sashimi, I think. That’s just me. I noticed everyone else was quite happy with it. In fact, everyone else was quite happy. This was a wonderful crowd to dine with. M is always the best of company, and we all shared a distinct love not only of food, but of movies (about food) and books (about food). Okay, maybe food does play a big part. And, as we were blessed with our two Japanese guests, we had more common elements, as I could blather on endlessly about my recent trip, while Ellen, Paul and the others are far more knowledgeable and can work up that web of linked topics that make for a good meal. To take Sydney Greenstreet’s line from The Maltese Falcon “I’m a man who likes talking to men who like to talk”. And that goes double for women. And then there were more prawns, but of great importance there were more mushrooms. Lots more mushrooms, with plenty of mild red chili and spring onions to go along in this cheerful little dish. How can you not look at this and smile? Don’t take my personal preferences on these last few as criticism. They’re just my tastes. I would comment that this meal, by dint of how it was being prepared, was perfectly staged for me. There was none of those piles of food all at once, most of which cools before you can taste it. While the servings were large, things were coming out at a sensible rate, and there was plenty of opportunity to taste things hot and fresh, at their best. As space was needed, the remains would be replated to make room, but that was okay. I can always enjoy crab, regardless of the temperature. Fried race came full of herbs, egg, and a garnish of capsicum. A good filler to even out the edges that weren’t already jammed with crab, prawns, fish, and abalone (and mushrooms! Never forget the mushrooms). And finally came the soup. This was a clear soup of fish and pork. This was very rich in the broth, which I had plenty of, with a solid peppery flavour that really made it stand out. There was a lot of crushed white pepper in there, and it made for a great finish. But, of course, we weren’t really finished. We had to do dessert. In this case ginko nuts in a syrup. I recall from the China trip that ginko nuts are good for the memory. Maybe that’s why so much of this meal still feels fresh to me. With our table cooked for, and the second table already cleared out, Jok could sit at this office and check his paperwork. As his office is a one chair metal desk right beside our table, this gave us a good chance to chat, and thank him for the excellent meal. And it was excellent. From all of his travels, and his work in supplying the industry with quality material, he’s come away with a vast array of cooking knowledge from across South East Asia. And to get that knowledge, you need to be, basically, someone people like, and want to share these things with. Jok is easy to like. Jok’s a good man. We need more like him. Finally, lunch done, we made our way out through the side entrance and back to the street. And the heat. Next: Back On The Street Note: With Ellen's permission, I've lifted a number of her pictures off of Flikr. You can spot them, as they're the good ones.

Now it's your turn! Patience, patience. I'll have some duck coming up for you, too (in a posting, that is). Where'd I put that sake bottle?

It's hard doing the multi-meal thing here in the evening, I admit. The heat just beats you down and you end up with your appetite taking a dive at some point. I always have great plans to get in some more snacking, but by 10 or 11 p.m. I'm hitting that wall. Dinner at Le Normandie tonight. They've got the folks from La Tour D'Argent in for the end of the French Fest. This should be good. Cheers, peter

The pancreas was okay, but it wasn't what I was expecting. I guess I'm just more used to veal sweatbreads, and those may not even be the pancreas, but rather the thyroid? A little thick, almost "pasty" in eating it. All in all, I probably would've been happier with the pig intestine salad they had on offer (we ordered too much anyways).

In this serving I couldn't say that they had a taste that stood up anywhere near to the strength of the fermented fish. They did have a texture. Likewise, I've had them in salads a long time ago, and then it was more the effect of the texture and the slight tingling in your throat as the poisons reacted. I wonder how they'd do on a pizza?

All, I'll be back with comments soon, but the wireless in the apartment is down, and I can only tie up this lobby machine for so long. Perhaps I can find a bar with wireless and Beer Lao?

June 23 – Bo bpen nyang Why does it take me so long to return to good restaurants? And, with the availability of Beer Lao these last couple of years, I should’ve been back to Vientiane Ktichen a lot earlier. It’s a beaten up old open barn of a building, and as soon as you enter you can’t help but like it. A scraggly tangle of Christmas lights decorates the stage, and there’s plenty of Happy New Year signs still up (it’s going to be New Year’s again soon, why take them down?). The band was in full swing, with the singer slinking about in proper Jintara style. I freely admit that I’m a sucker for morlam and lukthung, so I could happily sit there with a bottle of Beer Lao dark and wait for my friends. Okay, I’d be happy with just a bottle of Beer Lao, but this was even better. This place is the juxtapose of the lunch today in terms of style, but it has just as much appeal to me. It’s loud, it’s rough, and it’s a lot of fun. We were sitting on the tables, but the were raised platforms on the sides where you could kick off your shoes and get comfy. Plus, how can you not love a place where the first 6 pages of the menu consists of booze, and then desserts come next. After that you can worry about There were two specific items I was looking for on the menu. The first I found right away. Red ant eggs. They were available in salads, soups, and in an interesting dish with fermented fish. I went for the fermented fish. They’ve steamed the ant eggs, which has removed most of the poison, but you can still feel the little pringing sometimes as you eat, as the miniscule amounts of toxin pop open in your throat. Hmm……you might want to check on your allergic reactions before eating this. The second item took a little bit more looking, but I found it…..okay, the waitress found it after I drew a picture. Fresh water snails in red curry. Lots of peppercorns, and a good bit. These are just like the Korean diseulgi we had at the airport when we were leaving Seoul. Hard, chewy little guys that you have to spoon around to locate. http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showto...dpost&p=1495781 Unfortunately, they’re out of the shells here, so it’s tough to appreciate the shape and look, little black twisted gnarls of flavour. But, because somebody has been waiting for this, let’s do another shot. They also do this in a bean curry, so maybe I’ll come back for that one. Something that also took my eye was fried pork pancreas. An interesting texture on this one. Not livery, but with a thickness to it, and a slight strangeness to the flavour. This shot is poor, but if you sort of blur your vision accordingly you can imagine that it’s steamed fresh water fish. They’ve packed in a number of aromatics and herbs, and wrapped it all up in the banana leaf for steaming. I’ve made it pretty clear, I believe, that sausages should be a key part of a meal. These are the ever popular sai krob, glistening with fat. If I have a complaint regarding this dish, they should have given us more peanuts (we asked for more, though, and they brought them happily). And we finished with a soup of hot and spicy beef tail soup. A good broth to this, as you’d expect from the tail, and a solid bite. That pretty much settled us. I was full, my friends were full, and the restaurant was full. That’s a good time to clear space for others. I really should get back here soon. Next – Joking around in the kitchen

Patience, patience. I just got back from an excellent trip to the market with Tim and khun Pete, and have been cooling down with a a junmaidaiginshu from Niigata that I found at Fuji yesterday. (I thought it was a junmai, but I checked the fine print). I've been missing good sake these last couple of months, and finding one from Niigata makes me think of Hiroyuki's excellent posts, along with bringing back fond memories of the Kitagawas. The painful liquor laws here are causing me endless stress. You can only buy booze during a short window around noon, and then from 5 p.m. to around 11 p.m. I'm either up early and can't buy anything, or else in during early afternoon to get something to cool down for later. But, I finally got my timing right, and so I can have something pleasant to go with my snacks. For snacks I've got some sai krob that I brought back. A brief hit in the microwave and they're good to go. And for dessert I'm enjoying something Tim put me onto - soft dinner roll-like buns filled with flavoured custard. The first one is pandan (I think). Okay, now I can write about three days ago......I'm falling behind again, aren't I?

If I may answer for Peter. That is a lotus flower that isn't fully bloomed. Thai people love lotuses and we fold down the leaves so that is looks open. I know because I used to have to do 9 (a lucky number in Thailand) and then put them in vases (there were five vases for the family alter so 5x9) for the family alter almost every week. The only place I know that does this is Thailand. You will see loads of unopend green looking lotus flowers all over for sale. We take them home cut off a bit of the stem and then fold the leaves down. THe one shown only has a few leaves folded. Hope this answer it. BTW if you ever want to do it and have unopened lotus flowers you fold the leaves vertical first and then fold the folded leaf in half tucking it in against the bud. Then you will have a crisp triangle looking leaf. IF you do it all the way then it will look like an open flower with triangle leaves and an inside. Oh and if you ever are interested there are different flower arrangements that Thai people fold. I had to help the family fold a bunch for a egagement ceremony and they can get elaborate. There is also jasmine garland we do that are kind of like hawaiian leis. The are usually good luck so you would see them all over the place. Some people even put them on their rear view mirror. ← Thanks, Onigiri! Now you've got me wanting to take more pictures of the decorations!

If I could only make everyone a little more confused each day, then my mission here would be done.

Tomorrow, with luck. What is she located near? There's also a really good ba mi place across from Panthip, but I hate going there (Panthip), I must admit.

March 23 – Searching For the King I know when to take a hint. Especially when it's coming from Rona. It was an early day, I would take advantage of it to get some business taken care of on Sukhumvit. And business included Dosa King. I’d seen the signs years back, but that was then, this was now. And now there was no Dosa King on soi 19. However, the internet does come in handy at times, and in this instance I found out quickly that Dosa King had moved just down the street to Soi 11/1. Easy. I sweated my way down Sukhumvit and headed into the Soi. Dosa King was right there on the left, proudly advertising Southern and Northern Indian vegetarian cuisine. I could do this. It’d probably be good for me. But, when I entered, it seemed oddly quiet. And dark. And warm. In fact, the whole block seemed to have passed into an age prior to electricity, a simpler age when computers were run on coal, and microwaves were wood burning……. Yeah, power was down. And it probably wasn’t coming back. The owner was kind enough to suggest that I might prefer to come back on another day rathter than brave the steambath the dining room had become. Better to suggest this before I just get up and leave. It’s good to have certain decorum in things. Well, what else was on my list and close? Mongo’s! I’d been thinking about having a kangaroo steak ever since I read Carey’s The History of the Kelly Gang. So I went vertical over Sukhumvit and walked over to where Mongo has their place with the patio looking out on the street. They were shut down. Don’t know if they’ll be back, but the paper and soap on the windows isn’t a good sign. One of the many rules of Bangkok. If you find a place you want to eat at, do it with an eye to the impermanence of Earthly things. Restaurants in Bangkok can be extremely impermanent. What was left? Kinnaree. Thai food would be good, and Kinnaree, while somewhat farang’d, has a good reputation among many of my friends for good service and atmosphere. It’s set back down soi 8 a little bit, past new serviced apartment buildings and other restaurants and bar, but you shouldn’t think of the clutter that exists on the odd side of Sukhumvit. Over here it was a little more relaxed without everything being cheek by jowl. Kinnaree, as per formula, is in a renovated villa, the ground floor making up the dining room. There’s a small gazebo out front with a couple of bartenders who work the cocktail side, and they actually seem to have a strong cocktail menu. I did try to ask if they’d been involved in the recent mixology tournement (the winner came from the Conrad’s +87 – he’ll be going to Italy to represent Thailand), but the conversation didn’t quite work out. The décor is much as we see in Baan Khanitha and other Thai restaurants of this sort where “entertaining” is done. Nothing wrong with that, as I was quite interested in air conditioning at this point in my life. The art looked good, and everything was tidy and clean, as you’d expect. It was empty except for members of the Thai and American foreign service who were finishing lunch nearby, discussing the current non-situation in Thailand. I listened in with one ear while looking over the menu (that used my two eyes. Can’t recall what I did with the other ear…it must have been a Van Gogh moment). It’s a good menu. Some photos, which can be a help at times, but which I find slow things down a lot (it’s the “shiny” effect….I can’t help lingering over food shots), with some good looking entrees; salmon hor mok, boneless fish in tamarind, panang tofu….. I asked the manager, Bamlung, about the vegetarian, as this was a question that had arisen on egullet before. They prepare all of the vegatarian material without nampla or kapi, so that’s not an issue. He was also aware of the different restrictions for different vegetarians – who wouldn’t do dairy products, some won’t do strong smells, such as garlic, onion, etc. I was struck by the “mock” dishes on the menu. This was something we’d seen in Chengdu, where lamb legs, duck, chickens, and pork would be recreated in flour gluten and tofu, with just the right colours and textures. My appetite was somewhat restrained, and I feel bad when I leave a lot of food on the table. Besides the 12 pages of entrees, they also had 5 set menus, and these looked more interesting than the standard tourist sets. My amuse was a tidy little tung thong – a tofu bag filled with minced chicken and taro, and then deep fried. A nice, one bit wake-up. It came with the fish in tamarind, which had been filleted and fried crispy, then to be smothered in a slather of the tangy tamarind sauce. Beside that was a tom yam talay – a tom yam of mixed seafood. I know the big thing is to be the prawns, but I much prefer just taking the broth, trusting for the goodness of the seafood to have come out. Tentatively I tried the squid, and I was right, there is something different about the squid in the Northern waters of Japan that just makes them more tender. The hor mok had also drawn my eye on this set. I like hor mok, be it done in a kranab (roasted or steamed in banana leaves) or baked in the little cups, or done as a straight fry, as it was here. The outside was extremely crisp, trapping the juices inside so you had a very pleasant experience. This came served on a bed of deep fried crispy shredded omelet. And then there was the poo jaa – dear crab. This was steamed with the usual suspects – galanga, lemon grass, and kaffir lime leaf, and then was finished by frying with egg and curry, working it up a bit like a mousse. And with this came some very good rice – khao suay – soft and fragrant, each grain holding on its own. Bamlung had given me some time on my own to eat, but was available for more questions. Kinnaree had been open now for two and a half years. The owner, Khun Wanasnan Kanokpattanangkul, opened with the intention to present authentic Thai flavours, but with reworked presentations and slightly new approaches. He’s taking the success he’s had here (and, as I said, this place is well regarded) and going abroad with plans for a chain of Kinnaree restaurants to continue the diasopora of Thai dining. Hey, I found some more hyperbole! I though I used all that up at Tawan Daeng! Dessert was a perfectly suitable selection of cantaloupe, mango, and papaya. I love the fruit in Thailand (and that reminds me, I have some rambutan to eat around here somewhere). And some lemon grass tea to finish. It’s been a long time since I had this, but it’s still good. Next – Where the Red Ants Dream

June 22 – Rock On Brunch went down well, and did a good job of carrying me through to the early evening. But I’d need to get some more Thai food into me before the day was done, or else I’d start going into withdrawal. Tawan Daeng was the obvious choice. It’s a bit of a drive, but the taxi driver was happy with the long fare. I was hoping that some of my friends would join, but they did caution me that the was a wedding they needed to be at. So, Mr. Peter’s reservation was in order, and I apologized that I might just be alone. But it was a Sunday night, and as long as I was ordering enough for six, they didn’t mind. Let’s start with the beer. This is a brew house, after all. They do a lager, a dunkel, and a weizen. I begin things with a liter of the dunkel. My memory was right. This is a pretty good dark. German standard, but with a richer head and a bit more velvet in the finish. I’d limited myself to a liter, but I remembered now that we’d had this in a 3m tower last time, and it was good. I’m certain if you ask any Bavarian what goes best with a dunkel, he’s going to say “why, raw prawns lightly ceviched with lime and nam pla, heavily laced with chilis and garlic, and garnished with bitter gourd and baby tomatoes.” Well, maybe he’d say that in German. Next up was grilled pork neck. Like the prawns, grilled pork just belongs near a beer. This came pink and juicy with a tangle of crispy fried shredded basil. And I believe I’m on record somewhere regarding my passion for sai eua. This one was good, but I preferred the one at the Four Seasons a bit more. The show was a bit different today from what I remembered. No cabaret acts, just straight Thai rock (or covers of Western oldies). As the clock rolled past 8 p.m. the place was filling up. Across the cavernous hall the tables started sporting beer towers, monoliths of malt towering over the crowded devotees at their base. Just a sec, let me check to see if I have some hyperbole around, or if I used it all up. I went for the lager next. Not as satisfying as their dark, it doesn’t quite have the crispness that I’d like from a lager in this climate. Still, it was wet like me, so it’d do. Any beer hall worth its salt is going to have a decent washroom. I think I put up a picture of the “sink for vomiting” last time, but it doesn’t hurt to put it up again. But what really impressed me was the fussball table they’d installed just as you came in. Back at the table, I settled into my beer, and then realized that I had eaten everything. The house special tonight, on the big overhead screen, was deep fried duck beak. This sounded like a good way to keep my mouth busy between sips. This wasn’t the wisest choice. There’s not a lot that’s edible on a duck beak. They made for reasonable gnawing practice, but otherwise they were just there. Up on the big screen they were running a video of the building of the brewery (back in 1998 opened in 1999). Some good shots of the vats going in by crane, and then the big beehive building going up overtop. Somehow my liter of lager had evaporated. It must be the air conditioning. I went for the finish with a half liter of the weizen. Again, not bad, and they hit the mark in what they were aiming for, but it was a little too sweet and full for what I wanted to be drinking right then. Of the three, the dunkel is the one to concentrate upon. The band had switched over, and a young female singer introduced her father as the lead guitar. They also had an appropriately emaciated Thai David Bowie-look alike up there cutting a few numbers, too. It’s good to people having fun with guitars again. At this point, I could feel the insides of my eyes calling out. I hadn’t slept for two days, and that was beginning to feel like a good idea. There’d be plenty of time to eat more later.

June 22 – These Are Just Some of My Favourite Things I slipped (when you’re as damp as I am, you slip a lot) around the corner of the Erawan shrine, and into the soft shade of the trees in front of the Hyatt. Just past there it was a brief dodge through the morning restaurant taking up most of the sidewalk, and there I was. Back at the Four Seasons. Once in the relative cool of the courtyard I was able to take a moment, compose myself, and then work my way through the greetings to my table. Greetings can take a lot out of you. Maybe I could take up wai’ing as an exercise regime? Now, while I enjoy a glass of champagne, let’s do a quick tour of what is on offer. We’ll begin inside of Madison’s, where I prefer to sit Along one wall of the main room is the cold selection – vegetables, salads, smoked salmon, mushrooms, artichoke hearts,…..all the fixings for a good opening plate. Then, on the perpendicular, there’s a selection of cold cuts and cheeses. I do love cheese, especially any that smell as funky as these. We’ll be visiting here later. You head to the entrance to Madison’, but take a hard left past the private room. This places you in the kitchen. On your left is the cold seafood – prawns, crawfish, scallops, oysters, mussels, and crab. As you leer at the cold seafood (which is where I spend a lot of my time), behind you the kitchen is hard at work. There’s a selection of fish and meat for you to order cooked to your preference. You just make your choice, and leave one of the chits for them. I look at the kitchen, and I’m struck at how spacious it is. But then I remember spending a lunch in there with Nicolas Joanny some years back, and at the time it was all I could do to keep my stomach out of people’s way. Oh, and there is some nice carvery to be had, too, if you don’t wish to wait for your protein. Now, from the kitchen you come out and around the far corner, past the fireplace. This places you in the aisle running behind the glass doors fronting on Parichart Court. Down the inside of this run is plate after plate of dessert. I know some people who would be very happy just to stay here. Past this are the baked goods, very fresh bread, and some nice pastries. But I know better than to fill up on such items. And, at the door to Madison is the soufflé station, where they’re making chocolate melts and banana soufflés today. There, that’s the first part. Now let’s step outside into Aqua, the Four Seasons’ bar placed in the courtyard. To our right as we step back into the heat is an exotic selection of farang food. Ham, bacon, eggs. Hash browns. Hey, it may be mundane for us, but I’m certain some people quite appreciate it (and it can be hard to find nice ham). After the breakfast standards there’s a station for pasta and risotto. Again, these are two items I do love, but I know that there’s a limit to my appetite, and so I restrain myself. Past the Italians we find the Japanese, with grilled eel, shabu shabu, and a selection of sashimi. Let us not forget the refreshments. Included in the brunch are a number of wines, generally Australian, although there’s a nice little Chardonnay from the Maipo that I’ll have to take a look at later. There are also wine cocktails of different sorts, and a selection of martinis. And, that standby of morning beverages, the Bloody Mary. After the drinks, there’s a fish egg stand, built on a block of ice with by the fish pond. But this is primarily lump fish and ikura, and I just don’t find the flavour of ikura in Asia to be as good as what I have in Vancouver. But that’s just me. We’ll leave Aqua for a moment (we’ll be back), and go to the other side of the door to Madison’s. First we find the Chinese station, with hanging meats and cheerful little steamers. Beside this is the Indian station, doing tandooris. And then we find ourselves at the entrance to Spice Market, the hotel’s Thai food. In front there is a grill going of different sausages, and just inside is papaya salad made to your taste. Now we return to the centre of Aqua. Here, at the final installation, we find a selection of Mediterranean mezzes, a fine looking salmon that been baked in peppercorn bark, and then, my favourite….. The foie gras station. They do it four ways. You can have it as a soufflé, You can have it as a sausage, You can have it as pate under a bit of jelly and some endive, Or you can just enjoy it pan fried, which is my preference. There, we’ve had a spin around the block. Now let’s settle down for some serious driving. I opened with a cold plate to finish the sparkling wine that Reza, the manager, had sent over. It’s good when people know your habits. The asparagus here is something I look forward to now. I believe it’s coming from the Royal Projects, and is wonderfully crisp. The artichoke heart had the charm of pickling to support it, and the mushrooms are excellent, squeaky in texture, but having also benefited from a bit of pickling in the marinade. The salmon was good, but I am a Vancouver snob so I wouldn’t rant about it. And the Vietnamese spring roll was a little disappointing. Even with the plum sauce, there wasn’t enough herbal aromatics with it. And the whole point of a Viet roll is to give you an excuse to eat herbs. Then I made a basic beginner’s mistake. I ordered too much, too quickly. I picked up some eel (I’m still going through withdrawal pains from Japan) and while there ordered some sashimi as well. My timing was horribly off. Rather than having enough time to finish the eel, and then refresh myself with the sashimi, I found both occupying the table simultaneously. Still, in a common theme I could cope. The octopus was particularly good, with a solid crunch as I worked through the exterior to the softer, wetter interior. And I had some sea bream, which turned out to be a very nicely textured fish. The tuna and the salmon were as you’d expect. But I must say good things about the wasabi, as I appreciate that they fresh grind their’s here. Then things got out of hand. Some foie gras showed up. I just couldn’t walk by that table without ordering some. But this is hardly a complement of flavours. I needed to slow down a bit. A Bloody Mary can be a big help in this regards. Under control, I next took some Chinese. A little steamer of dumplings filled with fish and prawn mousse; some roasted red pork with a peanut sauce, and “Hong Kong style” sucklying pig, served over some steamed bread. Then I had to have some Thai. The poo nim – soft shelled crab crispy fried, and served with a sauce of basil, chillis, and lots of green peppercorn. This was very much a study in rawn phed, where “peppery” is the target flavour, rather than chilli hot. And I couldn’t pass up the sai eua. This was very good, having that bit of “pong” as tb86 said, the result of some fermentation being allowed to happen. As a comment, the Bloody Mary, served here with a good peppery burn, isn’t a bad companion to Asian food, holding its own with the solid burn of Thai cuisine. That had covered me for the opening act. Now it was time to get started. I switched from Bloody Marys (what is the plurar for that? “Maries”?) to a Blue Moon Shiraz from Oz. Then my next selection was delivered, one of each of the foie gras preparations, all served with a nice drizzle of truffle oil. Of these, I stand by what I’d said earlier. The best for me is the pan roasted. The “soufflé” is very nice, very much like a tawanmushi, but the sausage and the pate don’t do very much for me. But a good slab of foie gras, that’s hard not to get axcited about. Now it was time for some of that Maipo Valley Chardonnay and some seafood. I took the baby scallops, a few crab claws, and all the fin de Claire oysters I could fit. I miss having oysters. I’d had a couple in Japan, but my last real blow out had been back in February, and that was a long time ago. I love the brine from an oyster. But then, I’m a big fan of salt. This called for more oysters, and a vodka martini to go with them. One of the nice things (there are many) about brunch here is that when you get old and lazy (like me) you don’t have to get up to go get things. The staff will take care of it for you. This benefits as well in that they’ll do things I wouldn’t, like adding some fried coconut, onion and garlic to the side of a plate of oysters. This, with the martini, worked very well. I had some more crab, as well, and then contemplated my options. I was beginning to slow down, and I had been there eating for two hours now. I decided to take some cheese. I concentrated on the ones that were runny enough that they could do a marathon. Of these the Brillat Savarin and the St. Mere were my favourites. The Talaggio was disappointing, being thicker in consistency. Good for others, but not what I was looking for. With this I’d gone with another Chilean, a cabernet sauvignon this time. I finished this with the cheese and then looked back to the Blue Moon Shiraz for dessert. Then I asked for a cappuccino, as jet lag was beginning to take hold, and tried a light selection of the sweets, taking a mango moose, and a few of the pretty little egg flowers (flecked with gold leaf), and some chocolate, and a chocolate truffle. And then, to finish, the chocolate melt. Rich, sweet, and very hot. During the course of this I wasted some of Reza’s time with idle banter, and did manage to get some idea of what’s coming in September with the WGF. But I’m sworn to secrecy on that matter (and you never know until the last minute for certain, anyways). It was three o’clock, and things were beginning to wind down. While I was not the last table, there was a great deal of open space about. Cheerfully I paid, bid my fairwells, and started thinking about dinner. Next: Sing For Your Supper

Haha, yes apologies to my East European friends, it seems that you can't move for Perogies/Pirogies wherever I've been in Canada so far, but it was a bit of a leap for me to call them 'Canadian', I stand corrected! Cheers ← I, at least, consider perogies to be a staple of our Canadian family's dining. The perfect delivery system for sour cream.

Wasn't the dance version done by Asanee and Wiharn, not Carabao? By coincidence I got a band to play that last night. Everybody sing along!

It's just an idle rumour cast about by ne'er do wells. And pay no attention to the shirts I wear.

June 22 – Bangkok It’s that smell. That thick, humid rotting smell of corruption and heat. Of heavy fruits that will take you by the nose and pull you Mowgli-style (or was that Baloo? But it’s a different sub-continent, anyways) sideways off of your path. The papers talk again of influential figures, of “unusual wealth, of veiled threats, and of the interests of the military. The US makes comments of the need for democracy, and the PAD “takes” Government House while the Prime Minister, who hosts a cooking show, watches the action from one of the VIP karaoke rooms at the Army Club. I’m back in Krungthep. Why do I ever leave? I’d arrived later than planned, which was fine with me. The original flight landed me at just before 8:00 a.m., and I knew that would spell trouble as far as checking in went. But 10:00 a.m…..well, that’s just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the 2 p.m. regular check-in, and, seeing as all I needed in this world was a shave, a shower, and….. that other word. This timing works a lot better for me than the original post dawn arrival. I can check in, I can get this first part posted, and then I can get properly dressed. I’m trying something different in terms of accommodation. I’ve taken a refurbished “apartment hotel” just behind Robinson’s at Asoke and Sukhumvit, a step away from the skytrain and the underground. I’ve long been a fan of the Emporium for their easy connection to Phrom Phong (and access to the Londoner, the Bull’s Head, the James Joyce, and the Robin Hood), but I’ve made it a mission to check out new locations, and this corner, with both transit systems, is a possible long term location for me. But, that has nothing to do with food. This is to be a week of eating. After I finished writing the Japan trip up (with the short little Hong Kong stopover), I was able to relax, to take my time about the house and play with different bits of cooking I’d meant to take up. But, after a few weeks, I found myself……restive. Perhaps it was the weather. The days of heat and dust. And more dust. Perhaps it was the pressure of the Japan trip, which was never a “relaxing” vacation, but rather my (and Scud’s) approximate of a cultural holiday (Hey! Anime is culture!) But finally, with five months facing me before I could hope to be away again, I broke. I’ve taken a week off. I have a good boss. And so, as always, I’m where I should be. The contents of my bag are strewn about the rooms. I’ve hung the tuxedo and dress shirts. The jackets, likewise, are put away. My trusty 12” Powerbook is plugged in and running. And I’m preparing for my first meal. A meal that should take up most of the rest of the afternoon. Next: Brunch

I admit it looks like a burst colostomy bag but omigod does it taste good... I forgot to mention.....this dish does your tagline proud!