Peter Green

I've got four packages of Shin Ramen for tomorrow. I'm thinking of some Roquefort on top. Pictures soon.

It does, although it's thick enough that there's a slight crunch in it, too. But that's part of what we like. The fat on the oxtails oozes out with everything, and you could almost skate on top of the soup. I always have a lot of rice with miyok guk to take up the greasiness, which leads to dinner table controversy as Yoonhi and the kids consider me a heathen for putting my rice into my soup.

We like using them in miyok guk, a Korean soup. The oxtail is boiled for a few hours with kelp (miyok). And then there're the "usuals". Garlic, chopped spring onion, sesame seeds, and sesame oil. The oxtails are nice and greasy, and you pick (or suck) the meat away from the bone.

Yoonhi's betting on patjuk (sweet red bean gruel). Is she going to put in rice ball dumplings?

onions a tub of minced garlic sichuan peppercorns more peppercorns carrots chilis nam pla lemon grass galanga sesame oil soy mayonaise gochujang dried mushrooms foie gras pork bellies bags of salt corn or bean starch rice .......... .......... and there are some containers of frightening looking fuzzy stuff in there that are always at hand, but we're sort of scared of.

I'm almost done with Musashi Miyamoto His Life and Writings , by Kenji Tokitsu. It's a relatively new work, and the translation of Musashi's writings is helped by the author being both accomplished in the martial arts, and well-studied in the use of traditional Japanese. Most other works suffer from trying to be exact readings in a modern voice. It's an interesting parallel to life in the kitchen, with the discipline and concentration upon technique and application. Also with strong parallels to the "pedigrees" we see of chefs - schools vs restaurants. Obviously, this isn't a new conclusion, there are plenty of great Japanese cartoons out there that treat this same subject. But it's nice getting back to the roots of a genre. One problem I have, however, is from the Dokkodo "The Way To Be Followed Alone": 13. Do not pursue the taste of good food Ah well, you couldn't expect him to be perfect.

Kent, Will you be wandering through San Antonio? I've got people out there on work in September, and if you have some good spots for eating and drinking, I'll be happy to pass it on to them (I like to get good quality for my expense accounts). Cheers, Peter

Salmon has an extended freezer life, as the oil content is quite high. But, saying that, I pulled one B.C. Spring out of the freezer the other day that had escaped my attention for some two years, and it had lost its texture. A nice flavour, but on the mushy and dry side. Still, for a matter of some weeks you don't have to fret. It's a pity about the uni (but good for the dog). I've had it marinated Korean style, and it keeps well enough in the freezer. Chili paste, shredded seaweed, sesame seeds, and sesame oil. It is, of course, far better fresh......mmmm, I can taste it now.

Aside from possible invasion of privacy thing, it would make a good permanent loop. The inarisushi in the kitchen looked good.

".....reclined upon a chaise lounge of free-range Ratte potatoes." I think I found some heirloom food in the back of my fridge in a tupperware.

Sheena, We think we found the answer for oksal (and, yes, "jail" would also be pretty close). After some phone calls, we think it could be millet (now a primary ingredient in bird food). What's Mom cooking for dinner tonight? Cheers, Peter

I pre-bake the salt, and then just bury the fish. When it's done, I just use a brush to whisk the salt off of the skin if there's residue. In general, it slabs off. A little off topic, but chicken (and duck) works well this way, too. There the skin tends to peel away with the salt, so the meat is ready to go (but you lose that lovely skin). In an act of exuberance (getting way off topic) I tried a turkey like this. We had to mine the bird out with a hammer and chisel. The result was...interesting. I had actually recreated hospital cafeteria style turkey, the kind that rests in a puddle of bisto for days, and which you can pull across your face like a stretch mask. I'll stick to fish.

Sheena, We like your mom's fridge. She's got the same brand of gochujang we use over here. Are you going to be allowed to do a pictorial of the local Korean grocery store? Or are things to restricted on shooting photos in shops? Oh, and we've got a question for your mom. One of our friends was talking about a little yellow, round seed she'd eat in her rice. It was about the size and shape of bird food. Does she know what the English name would be? We think the Korean name was "oksal". Keep the photos coming! Peter

Scud and I just checked out the article. To quote Scud: "The Japanese have wayyyyyy too much time on their hands"

For some reason we hadn't had bibimbap for ages. With one of our Korean friends just moved back up the hill, the two of them snapped and had to go on a bibimbap jag. First things first, Yoonhi broke out the gosari stash, and soaked them back to a manageable state. This is part of the grandma gosari from Vancouver, hand picked by one old lady reknown for her ferns. Then the rest of the fixings came together for the table: gochujang and rice vinegar worked up to a runny stage, garlic and sesame with the fried zucchini, oee muchim - cucumber salad/marinated cuce's, the toraji (which she was splitting with a satay skewer in an ominous moment this afternoon), and reconstituted dried mushrooms. And then there're some blanched sprouts (no kunnamul to be had) marinated with the "usual" spices, some beef (just in the corner), shredded moo, and more cucumbers (our friend brought some, too). Everything was piled up on top of the rice and fried egg..... and then all mixed up. An interesting comment came from the table. As we were all so starved for bibimbap, the first bowls disappeared in pretty much record time. It just seemed right to have seconds, but the enjoyment....something....was gone. Our friend summed it up "You know, you always want that second bowl, but somehow it never tastes as good as the first bowl, and it gets to be a lot of work to eat." Me, I was just waiting for someone with a pin to pop me. Note: editted for a rogue comma.

Thanks, Sheena! You've already cleared up one question. We did bibimbap last night, and I'd asked what toraji was. Yoonhi's response was "it's toraji". But Bellflower root got her right back on track. She remembers her mom growing it in their garden. The gosari has her clamouring now for yugaejang. Cheers, Peter

With Asians you're often safe with Italian.

We've had something like that at Uomasa in Bangkok. Yoonhi and our friend found it somewhat unnerving to stare back into the eye as you were eating it.

My favourite was chasing my mom's cigarette around the kitchen with an ash tray as it burned down while she cooked.

Lunch at the “new” Le Vendome This is something I should have recapped several months back, but coming off the tail end of the Lao vacation, I was somewhat drained (and we were getting ready for China). One of my favourite restaurants in Bangkok these last couple of years has been Le Vendome. I’ve written of meals there elsewhere, so I’ll leave it to you to hunt down the details of Nicholas Joanny’s pedigree. The short version is that he had come to Thailand via Singapore, taking up an offer from the Four Seasons. For various and sundry reasons, this did not work out, but while he was there I was quite happy to enjoy his food – both at the WGF, inside Maddison’s kitchen (don’t ask – you run the risk of me boring you with an answer) and at private dinners. From the Four Seasons he moved to Le Vendome, a new restaurant inhabiting an old space, that being the area in the Conrad’s All Seasons where Luca’s used to be (which, again, is another story). Luca’s had put together a very nice space, with a kitchen that afforded the chef a clear view of the tables so the that timing of the dishes could be well monitored (timing in many places is one of my big gripes) The business towers of the All Seasons Place provided a good lunch crowd, and Nicholas’ lunch menu, a three course (with coffee) prix fixe for 480 baht was the talk of the town as simply “a no-brainer”. My only quibble with this was the All Seasons Place. One concern was sitting in a lovely restaurant with beautiful atmosphere and detail, but having a view of the Burger King across the way. There is something generally Josephine-ish about dining well while watching the poor people eat, but I find it can detract a bit from lunch. Another problem is the taxi ride. The cabbies are working on improving their English, just as I try to improve my Thai. And both of us tend to latch onto one (or fewer) words that we recognize and go from there. So, consider the case......a few years back, the Four Sesasons was known as the Regent. It’s a big hotel, well regarded in the city, right? Get in a cab, ask for the Regent, take a nap, and next I know I’m by Pratunam market and he’s pulling up by the Indra Regent. Then the Regent changed the name to The Four Seasons to take advantage of the branding available. Fair enough, it’s the higher end of their offerings. Now I ask for the Four Seasons. Next I know I’m being dropped off at the Conrad at the All Seasons. Ask for a taxi to take you to the All Seasons, and you’ll probably end up at the Four Seasons. (The trick I’ve learned is to ask him to take you to the Erawan shrine, and then just keep gesticulating until you get where you need to be). Anyways, I’m getting off topic. When I was in Bangkok in October last, I’d dropped in for lunch (having visited the Four Seasons en route thanks to my cabbie) and in talking to Nicholas I confirmed that they were moving shop. Their plan was to take up a lease on a house on soi 31 up on Sukhumvit. As I generally stay in that area, this was good news. So, just back from Laos and luxuriating in the Emporium, I felt it was time for a lunch. I phoned Le Vendome and confirmed the new location, and then took the family off to a short stroll to their new location. This did not go well. Soi 31 is a trifle odd. You follow it down and away from the bustle of Sukhumvit. After a few blocks in stifling heat you find that the street bears away to your right. You follow this some more, and you find yourself in a claustrophobic alleyway, with you, two walls, and a number of reasonably homocidal drivers. After a good stretch down here, I realized that we were about to come out on the far end near to Phetburi, not far from RCA. This was not a good thing. I had unhappy kids and a grouchy wife, all of whom were on the verge of heat prostration. We stopped in at one health center and made a heart-rending request for them to look up the address proper for Le Vendome. “Mineral water! Mineral water!” croaked Serena. “A baguette! Or even a brioche!” whispered Scud, on the verge of passing out. “Just ask her if she knows where the damn restaurant is,” said Yoonhi. This was the problem. Le Vendome had just moved, and was too recent to have settled into common knowledge in the neighborhood. I kicked myself for not having mapped it out better. In disarray, we fled back to the air conditioning of the Emporium for some Thai food, in much the way Napoleon must have retreated from Russia (except different). However, like Napoleon, I would not rest content in my Elba of the Emporium. The next day I talked to Nicholas on the phone, took directions, and tried again. While shorter than the 100 days, this was far more successful. For those of you trying to recreate my historic trek (okay, you just want to get to Le Vendome) the trick is in realizing that, for some bizarre reason I cannot fathom, soi 31 bends to the left at the Euro Inn. If you follow this around, and make another right, you’ll find yourself first at the beautiful Eugenia Hotel with their fine collection of vintage autos, and then at Le Vendome. There is a map up on their website, but it doesn’t show how the road goes straight through. Still, if you ask for the Sawasdee school, you’ll get close enough. You enter through a pleasant garden, approaching the house from poolside. Inside the main room is large windows and light. Perhaps a little harsh at times from the Siamese sun on the pool’s water, but it feels very clean. Nicholas met me, and I complimented him on the move, and cursed soi 31. It was early, and we were the first customers. When I’d called earlier I’d asked about corkage, and he was happy enough for me to bring a bottle. I had a 2002 St. Emillion I’d brought from Vientiane, and he had the staff take this off to open and breathe. For lunch today we started simply. Nicholas had an Iberica ham, which he deftly sliced for us and plated with some balsamic. After a couple of weeks of fairly tough pig meat up North, this acorn fed cured ham was….well….really good. Soft, fatty. Dab a bit of balsamic to perk things up, and you’re in a very happy place. The bread was a good companion, matching the fat of the ham with an infusion of butter. A gerkin on the side for a sour bite to complement the balsamic and …..then they cut us some more ham. For starters we had langoustine tartare, nicely minced crustacean under cover of some alfalfa sprouts. The taste of the sprouts dominates at first, and then you pick up the saltiness of the ikura just underneath, which then sets off the jelly-like langoustine on the bottom. And then the main courses. The tortelline was Serena’s choice. It was good. Nicholas’ sauces can always work me up a bit. Scud had the prawns. Two large ones pan fried up with garlic and herbs, and then nestled on a bed of smoothly whipped and truffled ratte potatos, carried just above the mash by mangetouts and spring onions. (Unfortunately, the photo of this failed me). For these they poured out the St. Emillion they’d decanted. This shot – besides showing that they know how to handle a bordeaux– does give an idea of the room. It’s not over-large, perhaps only eight or ten tables. But I’ll speak later of the private rooms. Yoonhi ordered the duck breast. Crispy skin, tender meat, the foam was very nice. Yoonhi, in looking at this photo, has decided she must have liked it. Hidden from view beneath is a foie gras ravioli that I tried to sneak away from her (unsuccessfully). I couldn’t pass up the chance to have pig trotters. These came with the trotter skin crisp fried, and stuffed with the mince and chanterelles. The smell of the rosemary and the crunch of the skin still stay with me. The lentils they were served upon were creamy and smooht. Dessert was, as expected, a pretty little thing. I wish I could remember the proper name for the yellow item on the left, but my notes and memory fail me. The chocolate was referred to a “tiara”. The reason I failed on this was that we were all hyped up over marshmellows. These home made variety had a coarse, sugary granularity, with a slight crust to the outside. They met wholeheartedly with Serena’s approval. (with some hot chocolate for her, and espresso for us). Once fed, they took me on a brief tour of the house. Besides the main dining room we’d seen, there is another private room on the ground floor, along with the wine cellar. Upstairs they have two more private rooms, the one offering what would be a wonderful pool-lit view at night. The private rooms have become almost a requirement, I was told. On the one hand, they provide the proper discretion for those using the venue for sealing business deals. On the other hand, the private rooms, by their nature, have become the havens of the smoking crowd, as Thailand has made smoking in public extremely difficult. I don’t smoke myself (having grown up with smokers), but I wouldn’t begrudge someone a cig as long as it doesn’t interfere with my meal. We took our leave with that, pleasantly fed, and splurged on a taxi to take us back up to the mouth of the soi, from where we could walk back home. The verdict? Now that I know just how soi 31 falls, it’s not that difficult to get to (although I’ll take a cab next time the temperature breaks 40 C). The feel is good, and I like the pool side ambience. The lunch menu has climbed up to 550 baht, which along with the baht’s recent climb does raise the price, but still, for around $19 (or less) Canadian, I’m still not going to complain. But there was a change. Before, Le Vendome felt very much a place for long lunches, but not a dinner destination. Now it’s switched around, and while lunch is important, it gives me the feel that it would be most excellent as a dinner destination. And there are those new tasting menus……. I’m hungry again. For more on Vendome, including maps, try their website http://www.levendomerestaurant.com/about.htm

This isn't an uncommon approach in the North East of Asia. The Japanese have a number of such dishes, the most approachable being what I refer to as "dancing prawns" where the fresh prawns are shucked so quickly that the head - presented before you on a plate - is still doing the watusi while you take down the flesh. Again, the impact is on the freshness. The two Korean dishes that stand out in my memory are what we mislabled as "mountain octopus" - "san" for mountain, rather than fresh. These are small octopus that you take whole, part of the experience is in feeling their pucker grasps as you take them down. Another dish was fresh sashimi, carved away from the flapping fish. A grouper, as I recall. In all cases the taste is, obviously, as fresh as can be, if sometimes unsettling. On the European side, I recall a maggot ridden cheese in the south of Italy that is purported to be quite tasty! And the venerable Bush Tucker Man (what a great hat he had) could go on for hours about the selection of choice grubs to be had. There must be more, mustn't there? Cheers, peter

I figure if it's stinking hot, and everyone else is dripping, I can engage in sweat-inducing foods with a certain degree of social camouflage.

Isn't Basil the restaurant at the Sheraton Grande?

Jeffrey Steingarten gives the subject his usual fun overview in The Loaf That Nearly Died collected in It Must've Been Something I Ate. He's also saying that American flours are too high in protein for the French baguette, so you'd want that 9 to 10% level quoted above.

Kai, Import also has a really good piece on eating in the area around the Giant Swing area. I intend to try and eat through part of this in September. For the high-end places, if you're dining on a the weekend, try to get a reservation set up a week in advance. That's usually okay. Most work nights there's never too much of a press, unless some big wig has shown up with his entourage. Jan Ganser has a company called FIN. They set up wine parties with the hotels (among other functions). I was at a good Austrian meal they'd coordinated last October with Jorg Worther and Dr. Salomon from Salomon wineries. That was held at the Meridien, the Royal Plaza Athenee. (you can find it without pictures in this thread as post #8. I missed their last one, an interesting event they did tying in wines with new Thai cuisine back in April. (I've emailed Jan, so we'll see what he comes back with). The price differential is a great draw for me dining in Bangkok. While not "free", I find it's good value for money in comparison to the major world centres. And sorry for not getting up last January's meals yet. It's been a hectic week over here. Cheers, and I'll add more soon. Peter P.S. - I think the "purple things" were called "chaw muang" (or some spelling similar to that).