Peter Green

We haven't mentioned one of the other benefits of traditional metal. Silver chopsticks are also a traditional tool for telling if there's poison in the food.

But I suppose I can forgive you, since you offered so much other good food in its stead. : I'll have to remember the Deck for my next trip. We always make the trek to Wat Po since that's where the family Buddhas are, and we're always hungry. Now we'll have somewhere to eat! (That crab burger looked great! Anything fried is good, that's my rule.) Did you find fried chicken skins anywhere? I had some once, but can't remember where. ← The Deck is easy from Wat Po. Out the back door and it's about two sois to the right of the massage school. If you can remember where the chicken skins were, please let me know! I've got at least one family member who'll discard everything but the crispy skin on turkeys and chickens if we let her have her way. I'm planning on being back after the New Year's (we'll be in Luang Prabang for that) so I'll drag the clan by Dosa King! Cheers!

One of my friends had a very nice set of black wooden chopsticks from Vietnam that they'd had from the 60's. I went looking for a similar set when I was there ages ago, and thought I had found them. But when we sat down to dinner weeks later to use them, everybody started noticing black shoe polish on their fingers......... A set of ebony chopsticks would be really cool. Maybe if you brought the wood with you and had them made to order?

this started up in the Korean Etiquette thread, but I think it deserves a thread of its own. To kick it off, here are my favourites; metal (silver) and solid (so you don't have to worry about stuff getting stuck in there, as in some of the cheaper Vietnamese versions I've seen), heavy in the back, with a bit of corrugation added to the tips to give better grip. I had these made in Phnom Penh from a modification of a Vietnamese design I'd seen. What other sets do we have out there? And who prefers wood (or lacquer, or plastic...) to metal?

The immediate reaction to the name is "congealed blood". It can have other stuff, but primarily blood. Could be pig or cow. And rice. I saw them making this before, but it was a long time ago in Cheju.

Looked up Weimaraner Meats .. all I got was a large dog with whom we are all familiar ... ← Maybe that's the Korean outlet?

I started seeing a lot of shot glass soup tasters around 2004 at the WGF in Bangkok (WGF5). All of a sudden, chefs from the four corners were doing this. Generally, I'm seeing these done as amuse bouches, although in one case as an appetizer course, I did see a deconstructed soup broken into components as an apetizer. Does it matter what type of soup? Not that I've seen. At D'Sens in Bangkok the other week they did two amuse, both centered on shot glass soups. The first was a gazpacho, the second a very nice porcini soup. We went from thick and cool, to warm and thinner, but with a nice sludge at the bottom for contrast. pictures and write up under /elsewhere in Aisa Pacific

‘Eid and the Angels – part 7 – departures All good things come to an end…..but I still had shopping to do. I woke up wondering how my friend ‘A’ actually gets into work after these evenings/mornings. I figured, okay, the sun’s up, I might as well do the same. I was down in the Emporium for the 10 a.m. opening, and trying to make up my mind what to eat in the Food Court. There’s some contestation amongst people about which food court is the best. I’m fond of the Emporium in part because of the tall glass windows looking out onto Queen Benjasiri Park, and also in part due to the fact that I can get there without having to go outside. I opted for stewed pig’s leg, served over greens and boiled cabbage, with a nasty looking egg plucked out of the brew and bisected on the plate. Bit of rice on the side, a cup of strawberry ice tea (which tastes every bit as red as it looks), and I’m jump started for the day. My only real task, beyond packing, was getting my final grocery shopping done. I’m not all that fond of the Emporium Gourmet Floor for fresh greens, but I’ve reached that level of sloth where I intend to move no further than possible. Going across the street would fall beyond those bounds. After that, it was back to the room to manhandle suitcases, although this was nowhere close to the trauma I went through the last trip, where I found that my 20 kg weight allowance was going to have to cover 45 kg of luggage. I finished off my beers; thought better of finishing off the Maekhong, and relaxed over some cold cuts I’d brought up from the deli section. And then it was time to leave. Souvarnabhumi was relatively easy, with traffic not being a big concern as I’d left quite early. Once inside, I was curious what was available, so I postponed my lounge time and did a bit of a walk. From Immigration, the airport splits to two wings. The restaurants are on Concourse B (although some come up earlier) to the left, away from my lounge in G, but I need the exercise. The first things you come across are the Surf Bar and the Glass Bar, both laid out in the middle of the concourse, with curving bars to sit at. Some nice looking cold lobster on ice out there. It sort of reminded me of the seafood bar in the Copenhagen departure area. After that was the Glass Bar, similar layout, but the food didn’t look as good. Primarily buns and croissants. After a bit of walk from there, you’re at the food area itself, which has Dairy Queen, Burger King, a few coffee shops (one by Doi Tung, another by Black Canyon), a Chinese spot with ducks and siu mai, a bar or two, and some fruit counters and other odds and ends such as Savour and Heads or Tails. One caution about being down on this concourse, the a/c is struggling. When you come back the other way (turning right after immigration) you come up against two more central bars, the first a sushi place – Sushi Koku - which is good to know. The actual sushi section is down at the far end, so keep going when you first hit it. The next venue is back to being a bar – Café Palomar. After that come the Mango Tree and Volare tucked against the walls with the shops. And finally I was at the lounge. Okay, I appreciate that things aren’t quite all ready yet, but I’m perturbed to find out that not only is there no shower in this new facility, there’s no bathroom. The food is, well,……where do the airlines get these sandwiches from? These are frighteningly reminiscent of the Egypt Air sandwiches, made once a year and distributed thereafter until the next anniversary (okay, these weren’t as bad as those). Our choice was tuna fish, cheese, and a ham sandwich that may have seen a pig in passing. Still there was a serviceable pair of French wines, a merlot and a Semillon from Bourdeaux, so I’ve contented myself with those. Next! Airplane food. This is always the highlight of a journey. What, oh what, is lying in wait under that piece of tinfoil? Now, to be kind, I was too cheap to get myself out of cattle class, so this was my own fault. However, this time I came prepared. The waitress, gave me the snootiest of Euro-sniffs when I turned down her meal. “Only some bread, please” “Only bread? No salad or dessert even?” “Only some bread, please” “<sniff!>” Once I had made my instructions clear, I reached into my computer bag and fetched out a package of parma ham that I had held back from my earlier repast. The waitress returned in time to find me gnawing through the plastic, and was kind enough to grace me with a smile once she realized that I had better things to eat. She was even kind enough to bring me extra wines from business class to go with my meal. This is probably the best way to move ahead with airline dining. Treat it as an opportunity for a picnic! The Americans have been proactive in this role, pretty much dropping all service on their domestic flights (as if there ever was any to begin with), and expecting passengers to bring their own pizzas and baguettes on board. So, at the end of the trip, after an ‘Eid holiday spent in the City of Angels, what was the tally? Day 1: Bahrain airport – a selection of wines, but no meal. The business class meal doesn’t count either, as I concentrated on the wines, instead. Day 2: coffee at the Deck, and then lunch at Ton Pho, followed by ice coffee at Café Democ, and another meal at Sorn Daeng. Dinner proper at the Deck, and then a walkabout involving a bowl of noodles off of Khao Sarn. Day 3: morning coffee on the verandah overlooking Wat Arun, and a double Americano at Vivi’s on the river. A reprise meal first at the Deck, and then Thai food proper at S&P by the Palace. Scotch egg at the Londoner (with beers), and the Indian at Face. Day 4: Soba at the Emporium, and Thai at Silom Shopping Village. And French at D’Sens with M. Chapoutier doing the wines. Drinks at Vertigo, and pork satay on the street. Day 5: breakfast (my only one) at the Emporium. Kalapruek on First for an early Thai meal, followed by octopus heads and sausage from soi 35. And then a very, very, very good meal with my friends at their home. DAY 6: sandwiches at The Oriental Shop in Paragon, followed by Thai tapas at Savoury Gastrocafe, also in Paragon. Then beers and pool, and Vietnamese at Xuan Mai, followed by Japanese at Torajiro. Top that with more drinks, and some pork skewers off the street, although the break between this day and the next gets kind of hazy. Day 7: stewed pork leg in the Emporium, cold cuts and drinks in the room, and a ghastly cheese sandwich and wine in the departure lounge. But this trauma was calmed by my picnic of nice ham sandwiches on the plane. Total, about 25 different eating experiences, and a lot more beer, wine, and Maekhong under the table as well. Regrets? I didn’t make it to Dosa King - I’m sorry, Rona! – I just ran out of steam at the end. I also didn’t have the time for an evening out at Tawaern Daeng or Coliseum, both of which have great Thai beer hall food. I had not time for lunch at Le Vendome or Beaulieu, and I couldn’t make it to Giusto (although I did run into Fabio). And, being in the old part of town, I didn’t get to do brunch at the Four Seasons (which would’ve toasted me for the rest of the day). Memorable? I liked what D’Sens did with this wine dinner. I enjoyed the tonkatsu at Torajiro very much, and the experience and the different flavours in Xuan Mai. Face was a beautiful setting, and I’d like to see what their other restaurants are like. The softshell crab burger at the Deck would draw me back if I was down doing Wat Po, and I will always be happy to spend my Eid holidays eating pork skewers off the street. And as a spot to be dressed well with a martini, it’s hard to top Vertigo’s Moon Bar. The best meal? Dinner with my friends at their home. Those are the hardest meals to beat.

On the down side for Vancouver sushi, whenever I'm at a new place, I always try one piece of tamago first. A lot of the newer places (generally not Japanese or Korean run) are making their rice the night before and keeping it in the fridge! I find this extremely traumatizing.

I return to Vancouver irregularly, but when I do, I always take my sushi at Kibune at Kits beach, just up from Cornwall. It's about an hour's walk from one of our family's places, but that just raises the appetite. It's small, cramped, and service can be difficult when they get really busy, but the special sashimi, a paper thin cut of daikon, cold, wrapped instead of maki around a good cut of fish with mayonnaise, is something I have to have when I'm there. And pay little attention to their menu. Check the board, and they often have some very, very good material.

It's not just the marbling. Over here, we get a variety of beef (if we're lucky), and there are definite differences in the flavour, in part from grain vs grass, also in part from location and the variety of the beef. Over the years, we've settled down to tenderloin and rib eye as our primary cuts. You're generally safe with these. I'll leave out ribs, and after some sad experiments with the cheaper cuts, we just don't bother now (I exempt offal, of course). Mad cow disease took the Irish off the shelves here ages ago, which is a pity, as they produced good quality beef, with no unpleasant overtones and good marbling. The American product is generally good quality, but very expensive for what it is. If I can get someone else to pay for my dinners at the Houston and New York steakhouses I'm a happy camper. The Canadians, unfortunately, got hit with the same mad cow hammer as the Irish. I've had some very good beef in Canada; prime rib in Jasper, porterhouse cuts at Gotham in Vancouver. Forget the local stuff. The Brazilians pretty much rule the roost (sorry to introduce a chicken tone...) here in the Mid East, with cheap meat that, while it can look pretty in the butcher's display, has a certain tone to it that I find, well, offensive. We don't use it. And that leaves the Aussies. Generally, the Australian beef is shipped chilled, not frozen, and the general flavour is good. Not great, but good. We can't always find Australian beef in the shops (it costs a bit more than the Brazilian), but when we do we try to work it into our menus. Now, that's region specific, and someone I suspect can break these into grain vs grass differences. But let's look at Oz. If we take different cows, do we get different flavours? To this, I'd shout "yes". I've recently had a few meals around Vic's Meats Tajima wagyu. These are really, really good cuts, with the fat beautifully distributed in the meat. And that distribution of fat isn't just in the feeding, but in the breed. So we come to the conclusion. "It depends". I love a firm answer.

‘Eid and the Angels – Part 6 – Thursday Another difficult morning. This was becoming a trend. Forget breakfast, it’d just get in the way. I was out by 9:40 to be at Siam Paragon by 10 for the opening. Siam Paragon may have the ultimate mall food floor. A lilting rivulet runs through one wing, flanked by very trendy looking Italian, Belgian, Thai, Japanese, and Chinese restaurants. Another wing holds clusters of well appointed kiosks, with some boutique elements cheek by jowl with the food court royalty – Burger King and Dairy Queen (that must go against Jewish dietary restrictions, I think). Clean, spotless even, full of beautiful people buying beautiful things. I keep on waiting to see the cast of Zoolander. My purpose was to take a small repast at the Oriental’s shop, as everyone has been talking well of Benito Plasschaert. Heck, they’ve been talking well of him for a long, long time, dating back to his days in Chiang Mai when he would come down to Bangkok occasionally to do classes at the Oriental which had rave reviews. In Chiang Mai he was a must see. My friends ranted about his charcouterie. But luck wasn’t with me, and he was out of town when I was there. So, it was a given that if the two of us were in the same town, we’d have to meet. I arrived just as the doors had opened, and the staff were still prepping some things. I did the appropriate “ahems” and immediately someone was there to take my order. This early in the morning, that can be problematical for me. Do I have pate, or do I have hams? Both are acceptable ‘Eid choices for me. Reviewing the menu, my answer was simple: I would have a sandwich of Burgundy pate with ham, fresh tomatoes, lettuce, and chutneys. Voila. There was a solid layer of pate down under the pile of ham, and these flavours worked, alongside the tomatos and the chutneys, to deliver a very satisfying sandwich experience. The sandwich violates one of the primary principals of sensible eating. Never eat anything bigger than your head. Sense and sensibility have sworn me off as a lost cause. Benito arrived just as I had begun savaging my food. This is never a pretty sight, and he was kind enough to leave me to my feeding. As I ate, I admired the view some more. Le Notre across the way, mirrored by the Vanilla Brasserie and their aproned staff. Next to that was Savoury, where I intended to take lunch. Next door to us was an Italian, advertising cuisine by Marco Cammarata, with another Italian, Amici, within gesticulation range. Once the frenzy was over, sufficiently stuffed to the gills (the European lady at the shop was kind enough to offer to wrap half my sandwich to go, but I knew her efforts would go to waste) I stopped by the counter to give Benito my regards. He was a little forlorn today, as he was trying to develop a workable menu for this afternoon’s cooking class. I wish I had had the time to attend, as his reputation as a teacher is excellent, and, looking at the kitchen, I was in love. The kitchen is exactly what you need for pastry making in Bangkok. Climate controlled (on top of the mall’s climate control) it affords a workable space to avoid all the cloying problems of humidity in the Big Mango. I’ve heard numerous chefs discuss the problems with some dishes due to the climate. Benito, however, cautioned that, for many of the Thai, it can be a problem with the temperature being too cold. I doubt that I would have a problem with that, but I could appreciate that the Thai might start locking up and turning blue. This day he was doing European appetizers. Dishes meant to taste and look good. In a couple of weeks he would be doing his charcouterie course. I wish I could have been there for that. I took my leave and strolled over to MBK for a couple of hours of shopping. In part to make certain I brought home the appropriate peace offerings, and in part just to work up my appetite again. Only day 5, and I was beginning to flag. For lunch I returned to Siam Paragon and did another turn around the establishments. While there were plenty of interesting places – Bee & Bug! In Thailand you never know, it could be honeyed grasshoppers. And then there was Papa Beard’s, selling deep fried cream puffs, advertised as “fresh” and “healthy”. I am holding out an outside chance that, like coffee, beer, and red wine, deep fried cream puffs will prove to be the panacea we’ve been waiting for. I’ve been cautioned by several friends that you can’t get a good meal here in Paragon, but even if that is the case, it’s all so…..clean. After awhile, walking through the cafés and the shopping market, you just get giddy. I finally span down to a relative rest at Savoury, a big, stupid grin on my face. I was scared to look at the other floors in case they seduced me even further. This could be evil. To ward this off, I turned to the menu. For a house white by the glass, they offered only a sauvignon blanc. My thoughts for the sort of fare I saw would lean more to a chardonnay or a gewurtztraminer. But, I quibble. The menu looked like fun, and I wished I had two more people with me and more of an appetite. Savoury Gastrocafe is a rebirth of the earlier Savoury, opened by Khun Bee many years ago. She later turned to savoury Thai dishes, as opposed to European dishes, and opened the very good Taling Pling. When I talk to my middle-class Thai friends, Taling Pling is a place they like to go. Khun Bee’s daughter, Khun Cake, has opened this venue, and it’s had some good reviews. Not high end, this is more a chance to try different things. She’s running the first part of the menu as Thai tapas. The idea of several small dishes runs near and dear to my belly at this point in time. Eclectic in a good way, they offered a lot of tasty sounding mixes; chicken liver parfait with Melba toast; salad of grilled white asparagus; pomelo som tom; ox tongue stew…. I settle on a classic clams in butter and garlic with brioche, and a spicy salmon with fresh ginger and lime. I smell the clams approaching the table. Over the top with garlic as I’d hoped. One of my fondest early memories of Thailand back in the 80’s was coming around an alley corner in Chiang Mai and walking into a wall of garlic odour. How can you not love this country? The clams came soft and chewy. Spooned out on a bit of the bread, and there’s a disaster just waiting to happen to my clothes. But the salmon was the better of the two. The spices were just right for a miang kam, and they happily provided bpai cham ploo (betel nut leaves) along with two types of lettuce for wrapping the mince up and popping it in your mouth. Of the three wraps, I’d have to give the bpai cham ploo pride of place. I love the waxy feel, and that aroma it gives off as you masticate. Sad to say, though, I was in such sorry shape that I couldn’t even finish. This was becoming distressing. I waddled over and chatted a bit more with Benito as he waited for his class to show. The Belgians are always easy to talk with, especially if you’re talking about food. But I also asked as to how he found Bangkok, after his time in Chiang Mai. “When I was in Chiang Mai I felt I was missing the big city. Now that I’m here, I’m finding I miss Chiang Mai.” The eternal conundrum. At least Benito is reasonably free to pursue the things that interest him. For the moment, he enjoys his classes, so I hope there’ll be a series running when I return next. Dinner was set for some time much later, which was good. I did some more shopping for foodstuffs - little green eggplants, fresh mushrooms, pork jerky, crispy pork, and shredded pork – it was the ‘Eid after all. And then I took a turn around the pool. It was obvious, though. I was going to need some exercise if I was going to manage dinner. The meal tonight was with one of my old, old friends in town, and he likes to eat. So, I needed a serious work out. I took my pool cue, and went out to shoot. Down the street from the Emporium is Flyers. It’s been there for around five or six years now. It’s not the semi-pro hall that Ball In Hand is, nor does it have the light and feel of The (lamented) Brunswick, which was probably my favourite place to shoot. But it does have air-conditioning and Asahi Super Dry, so it would do. That was good for an hour or so, and by then A had shown up. We got in a few more Asahi’s, caught up on the après coup, and then had a few more Asahi’s. At some point we decided that food would be a good option, so we grabbed a cab and headed down to soi 11. Our first check was Wasabi @ Q. This had been reviewed very well a month or two back by my friend, and I was interested in the uni they’d brought in. When I’d tried to get there a couple of weeks ago, though, they were shut. We figured it was just the coup, but they were still shut. This was turning into a mystery. I hate mysteries. We walked back up to the intersection, and spotted a pool table. This in turn led us into a local establishment, The Fun House, which seemed to be anything but. However, there was a table, and there was cold beer, albeit Heiniken and not Asahi. We settled in and mulled our options. Okay, we didn’t really have an option. There was a good new Vietnamese place around the corner that he thought well of, so we’d give that a shot while we were still ambulatory. Xuan Mai is around the corner and back up a bit, a tiny little place of around six or eight tables, done up in that attractive Indochine yellow you get used to seeing peeling off the walls from Vientiane to Saigon. There was another group settled in already, and they turned out to be common friends, so this made for a good setting. We went for two fish. The one, Cha Ca, is the classic of Cha Ca street in Hanoi, one of the few Vietnamese dishes that had made a lasting impact upon me. With this, we also ordered the caramel catfish. We had some cold bbq beef noodles to start, some Hanoi style spring rolls (with crab) and Meyung’s Roma Fries, her take on fried potatoes she’d had in Rome. Food aside, it’s worth coming just for Meyung Robson. American, she’d come over to Bangkok in “an official capacity”. She’d retired, but had stayed on as her kids were settled down here. And she’s not the type of woman to not be doing things. She’s not shy about talking about her food. I like that. Others may not, but to steal from Sydney Greenstreet in the Maltese Falcon “I’m a man who likes talking to men who like to talk”….or women for that matter . She may talk loud, and often, but I spent 11 years working in a Vietnamese restaurant in Vancouver, so I find it sort of comforting. So, how was the food? I liked the noodles. Lots of nam pla in the smell and feel, slipping and sliding down your throat like those small Spanish eels. They weren’t so much cold as slightly under room temperature, and so not as striking on the palate as the Korean noodles can be, which will often have ice cubes dropped in to give the jar to your mouth. By keeping the temperature higher, however, you have more nose to the dish, more flavour. A good, light opening to get the hunger working. Likewise, even after years of them, I will always go out of my way for spring rolls. Those little glass-like shards of the outer layer slashing at your lips and tongue as you crunch in, and the counter of the vinegary sauce to the oils in the roll. The Roma fries, weren’t something that I would go hunting for. The problem being how to keep a firm, crisp exterior after the initial fry. It might be the lack of beef fat (or better yet, horse fat), perhaps, but I didn’t delve too deeply. They were just there. The Cha Ca was alright, but not quite as I remembered it. It lacked something in the sharpness that had defined it before. It may just be my memory, which can play tricks with an old man like me. It has been eleven years since I was last there. It was good enough, but didn’t hit that resonating note with my memories. The last was also alright, the caramel fish. Good, deep flavours. A little on the oily side, but this would be fine with rice. However, we hadn’t taken any rice, as that tends to stuff up our appetites. As it, it was an interesting flavour. The finish I liked. Crème brule in coconut shells. A good, caramel ized crispy crust, and that rich, rich flavour to dig through for. My accomplice teased her about re-using the husks, but she didn’t rise to the bait. I don’t want it to see from the above that I didn’t enjoy this. I’ve long said that the only bad meals I’d ever had in Bangkok were Vietnamese, and this wasn’t bad by any means. The ambience suited my mood, and the dishes were all good. And the price was reasonable. I just tend to be too critical of things. If I had been in Saigon, I would probably have raved about this meal. With two tables holding about six or seven of us, and with Heyung chiming in (and the kitchen staff trying to remain invisible), it was a great atmosphere, with lots of back and forth and chairs getting dragged about between tables. It's a great thing when a meal at a restaurant can feel like a dinner party at home. The thing to watch out for is that things don’t change. What works very well for a small restaurant could, as 'A' points out, fail horribly with success and size. Examples given were two other places I’d wanted to try. One was Sonie’s, which used to be on soi 31. It had a great reputation as a tiny joint doing interesting Japanese fusion. They’d moved to bigger premises, and now couldn’t deliver in the same intimate manner they’d done before. The result? Doom. A worse fate waited for one of my old favourites; Woodstock’s. I remember Woodstock’s and it’s sister outlet, The White Rabbit. The White Rabbit, on the ground floor of the Nana Plaza, did two breakfasts. For 100 baht you could have the English Breakfast, that came as two plates heaped with beans, toast, eggs, sausages, tomatoes, toast, and probably the kitchen sink tossed in with the orange juice and coffee. Or, for 110 baht, you could have the Australian breakfast; a cup of coffee and a bloody Mary. But that passed away by around 1990 or so. Woodstock’s lasted much longer. After an initial stint as a go-go, it had evolved upstairs into the gathering place for Bangkok’s Harley crowd, and afforded a good music system, big screen sports or movies, a couple of pool tables, well-regarded burgers, and a strict “no-hassling-the-customers” rule that kept the rest of the Plaza out. It made for a good place to hide when you’re crowd was busy elsewhere. So, what happens? They closed up shop in the Plaza a year ago February and moved to new, spic and span digs off of Thonglor. The result? Dead. Very stylish, 3 stories, but absolutely dead. Excuse me while I wipe away a tear. This all came up as, once we’d finished our Vietnamese meal, we felt the need for something to settle us a bit. Wasabi hung in our mind, so we decided to do Uemasa or Hanako off of Thonglor. Hanako, which brought in cod sperm last Christmas, had already done the Jekyll and Hyde thing by the time we arrived, and had flipped from restaurant to karaoke for the night. There was no way in hell we were going in there, so we booted over to Uemasa. There, everything was dark, the staff just getting into cabs to head home. But, there was a dim ray of hope. The place next to Uemasa was open. Torajiro was a nice, clean, well –lit place. While not as impressive as either Uemasa or Hanako, it was perfectly serviceable. A pleasant entryway, and private booths for the customers. It was nicely set up as a later night place to eat, talk, and drink. Uni wasn’t on the menu, unfortunately, but they did have attractive looking scallops, which we ordered and came interleaved with slices of lemon. I love that citrus tang on a good slice of scallop, and this was enough to get the two of us interested in eating again. We complemented this with a quart of shozu, served up with soda and lemon. More civilized than beer at this time of the night (and less filling) it also meets the need for ceremony, with the waitress careful to keep our glasses filled as the evening progressed (or is that morning). For memories of the Pacific NorthWest, we had a big bowl of ikura donburi - salmon eggs and raw salmon on a bowl of rice, and I found myself entranced by the tonkatsu, which arrived buried under a mound of shaved horseradish. Okay, maybe the shozu was doing some of the entrancing, but the breading on the pork cutlet was crispy, hot, and countered well by the tang in the horseradish. A little sweet sauce, the hint of nori coming through…… As happens, time passed very easily, and all of the world’s problems found themselves resolved. We went from there to some other fine drinking establishment, and then, at some awful time of the day, found ourselves enjoying Beer Lao on the curbside of Sukhumvit. The Lumpini police came by and chased us down the road until we got across Asoke, and there the much more sensible Thonglor police left us to our discussions and some skewers of pork interleaved with green capsicums and onion. Finally, in that hideous time when the sun is almost arisen ("dawn" I think it's called), I headed for home. There was a plane to catch, and two more meals (at least).

Busboy, As an interesting comment on Languedoc, they've got the marketing down perfect. I forget the brand, but they've gone to exporting......boxed wines! (shocked silence). This is selling very well in Phnom Penh, where you have real climate problems with the cafes. But by going this route, almost every place you stop in on Sisowath Quay, if they're offering wine by the glass, odds are it'll be a Languedoc. They've pretty much locked down the bar market.

An excellent piece. Yes, for a very good wine in the under $20 price range, it's almost impossible to beat the French. When I was home in Canada, I was trying to find a good wine to take with Thai-style food out on the deck. The obvious one was a Gewurtztraminer. I went through about five over-priced BC wines (I have to wave the flag a bit when I'm home) and then tried an Alsatian Pfaffenheim Gewurtz that was in the fridge. About $15 and one of the best wines I've ever had with Asian food. Lots of nose, big flavour...this is what it should be. I had my nephew buy a couple of cases to lay in for my next trip back to Vancouver. He's advised me it's just been voted one of the best wines available for under $20. Figures.

my significant other always leaves her kimchi open on the counter for a day or so after she buys it to let the ferment get going.

Kim chi is always safe to eat. Is it safe to breathe on someone after, there's the question.....

Chambar Wild Rice The Railway Club

I've done a couple of Four Season's classes up at Mae Rim. The facilities and the setting are excellent, and the teaching is top quality, but if you're on a budget, they're kind of over-the-top. Friends of mine had been to one place called Somkid's (I think), and they were happy with the overall quality. In Bangkok, a number of people I know have used Blue Elephant. One fellow here just came back from four days of private classes, and has all sorts of new tricks. Again, though, it's not for the budget conscious.

I've just heard that the venerable Thai Kloster has bowed out of the beer wars. Thailand's so called "European brew" for decades, it has gone the way of Amarit (I may be wrong, but I haven't seen Amarit anywhere for over a decade). Kloster and Singha were probably the two biggest reasons for me to take up Maekhong, coke, and soda in the early years. What does that leave us with now? Carlsberg did a runner what, two years ago? Chang - the working man's beer (it's cheap and heavy) Chang Lite - now there's a concept Singha - (I'll keep my mouth shut....I want to go back). Leo - released when Leonardo was in country doing The Beach. Coincidence? Leo Super - if you can't find Chang..... Tiger - under license from Singapore...sort of like Shin Communications Asahi Super Dry - probably my favourite of the under-license brews. Can anyone out there add to the list? I should've paid more attention last week.

‘Eid and the Angels –part 5– Wednesday I actually woke up to eat breakfast. This is a rare occurrence. While I do admit that some people feel that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I find it to be in direct conflict with the role of early lunches and brunches. It’s a personal decision, I suppose. In reasonable form (this means I did wash and put on clothers) I made it down to the 25th floor (I just bang EL until I get there) and weaved through the general chaos of residents and their families working over the buffet. Having badmouthed “the most important meal of the day” already, I have to swallow my words and admit that Bangkok isn’t a bad place to eat early. Besides the usual omelets, sausages, hash browns, and the rest, there’s always fresh pineapple, and papaya to be taken with a wedge of lemon. And the Japanese section will have plump, steaming rice, and usually a bit of grilled fish with that cloyingly sweet sauce the Japanese put on fish and eels. And coffee. Gotta have coffee. This, with the morning view of Bangkok from up here, had me in a better mood. I looked at what needed to be done. Obviously, lunch would soon be in order. After that, mid-afternoon snacks, and then dinner at the home of some of my friends. I took lunch at Kalpapruek On First. I’ve stayed at the Emporium numerous times. I love it for its views, for its location (direct to the BTS) and for having my own small kitchen to play in (although I don’t seem to get around to it often enough). But I still haven’t explored the entire array of eateries that are here. Kalpapruek is one that had caught my eye before, and a few people had good things to say, so I figured this was a relatively easy stop. As you’d guess, it’s on the First floor (not the Ground floor, which I, as a dumb Canuck, checked out first). I was shown to a seat by the window, with a view looking out onto the broadside of the Skytrain, but also with a relatively intimate view of the main entrance. Not a bad place for people watching. My favourite is, perhaps, is upstairs at Greyhound’s six or so tables outside the restaurant proper on the balcony by the escalators. I’ve sat out there before with a pasta dish and a gin and tonic and watched the show go by. But back to lunch. I noticed on the inside of the menu that these same people are tied in with Thai Tai at the Sporting Club. Maybe I should try that?…… I settled on the ped phalo kra prao krob, braised duck with deep fried basil leaves, and khao hmak gai - curried chicken rice. I’m a sucker for anything that’s braised, and the curried chicken rice sounded interesting. The duck was quite pleasant buried under a liberal pile of crispy bright green basil leaves. Soft, fatty, and squirty. And the curry was really good. Bright orange-yellow, with chicken firmly imbedded into the mass of rice, like some bizarre poultry based meteor impacting the moon. In the rice are little cubes of potato for contrasting the textures, and there’s some crispy fried shallots on top for the finale. The soup on the side had a sad little chicken limb in it, but it was mainly there for the clearing flavour of the broth. With all this, just water. I was still getting things back together. After lunch, I was off to Fuji. I love Fuji. Fuji is the Japanese communities shopping market. To get there, you go down past either Villa 33 or the Bull’s Head, and then dog leg your way around to the back side. Past a selection of interesting Japanese restaurants, and Fuji is laid out to your left. Inside everything is wide lanes and serenity. The antithesis to the cramped, claustrophobic aisles of the Emporium’s Gourmet Market, and Villa 33. While I always stop in at Villa 33 for some things, the layout reminds me of Toul Sleng prison in Phnom Penh……okay, it doesn’t have the wall of human skulls, but then again, Toul Sleng took theirs down, too. The staff, well disciplined, are putting goods on the shelves, white gloves carefully positioning each packet. The matrons are demurely pushing their carts in good order, stopping occasionally to bow to each other. And then there’s the muzak. We’re talking 1960’s elevators here, folks. Myself, I was looking for yuzu (which I didn’t find) but I did grab some dried goods; peppers and powders, mainly. Outside, I couldn’t help myself. I was caught by a sign advertising octopi. I looked, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. So, following the cardinal rule of “if you can’t understand it, eat it”, I bought a pack for 80 baht. These things have a habit of snowballing. Once I’d bought a packet of octopus heads (that’s what they looked like) buried under a sweet sauce and fried onion, I was then captivated by a teepee of grilling sausages. Again, the idea of entrails stuffed with unidentifiable remains that may or may not contain Jimmy Hoffa aren’t the sort of things that I’m going to turn my back on. I scurried back to the room, poured out a glass of the Penfold’s Rawson’s Retreat I was working on, nuked the sausage and octopus heads, and tucked in. The sausage was everything I’d hoped for. Little squirts of fat breaking through with every bite through the intestine wall. Sweet, with a good volume of rice, like a Cajun boudin. And the octopus heads? What can I say to describe them? Indescribably foul? Yeah, that would do. These things had no hint of octopus about them (I’d been hoping). They tasted for all the world like a big ball of cooked waffle batter, with some goozy sweet brown stuff squirted from a squeeze bottle onto them. The onions reminded me of the taste and texture of old cat fur (don’t ask how I know that). I put aside the Penfolds for a moment to down an Asahi beer and clear my mouth. Chardonnay back in hand, I contemplated the failing light over Krungthep, the City of Angels. It’s a pretty name in the short version. Heck, even the full name is pleasant when sung by Asanee and Wasan, a great techno drone that goes on and on. I snapped myself out of it. I had to swim, clean up, and dress. I was to have my favourite dinner of the trip this evening, dining at home with some of my friends. But for that meal, I am sworn to silence, and my camera stayed off.

I'd heard that D'Sens was very good when it opened and the brothers were in residence. Since then I've heard conflicting reports. Some that it dropped in standards, others that it is still excellent, but doesn't pander to the local tastes, and so has trouble building a clientelle. What I experienced this evening was very good service, and a well coordinated meal around a good selection of wines. I must admit, I'm a fan of wine dinners. Done properly, they give the chef some structure to contain his fancies, and so you don't get lost. In this case, we have wines that are familiar to the Pourcel brothers, and so things worked out well. They're not grand, grand monuments to wine making, but they work well with the choice of dishes. Other times I've had dinners where excellent food and wine is completely at odds, almost as if the chef was unaware of what was being poured, and could care less (a seafood dominated chef for Barolos!). I guess, when I have a degustation, when paired with wine, I look for the chef to put together a story, or perhaps a musical composition. After all, we're shelling out a good bit of change, we want to enjoy this as much as a good play or opera. What I had this evening at D'Sens made sense (sorry for that, but the alliteration was too handy), working from fairly clean amuse through traditional approaches to lobster, and then fish and a lamb that went in an interesting French colonial direction. Desserts were appropriate for the sense of France they were going for, so all in all I was happy. Compare this with my write-up elsewhere on the Square in London. Like you, the thread was lost somewhere early on. Too many flavours, without one dish leading sensibly to the next. Mind you, I had the benefit of a charming young blonde sommelier from the Alsace, so that's a step up from your waiter, I must admit. Now, to find some space to load more pictures and get on with the next part.

My current favourite would probably be Shin Ramen. We buy boxes and ship it back here everytime we go back home. But I have an old, old longing for the classic "Sapporo Ichiban" ramen, one of the first big brands in North America. I can still remember those TV commercials with the Japanese in cowboy hats and boots shouting "Sapporo ichiban-yo!".

‘Eid and the Angels - Part 4 - Tuesday The day begins around 9. It seems like a good idea to let it get to ten before I push my luck with the other eyelid. But by 9:15 I’m up and putting the finish on the notes for Part 2. I think, “Perhaps this is getting out of hand when I’m using up Bangkok time to write these things?” And so now I’m in the airport catching up. There’s a time to be obsessive/compulsive, and then there’s a time to fret about being obsessive /compulsive. Before going too far afield, I stopped in at the Emporium’s food floor for a quick snack. My eye, the last few days, had been caught by the bright yellow stands advertising vegetarian fare for the Vegetarian Festival, which was now in full swing. Down South you get a whole carnival show of self-mutilation, people ramming steel rods and swords through their bodies, hooking buckets onto rings forced through their flesh……sort of like Central London on a Friday night. But in Bangkok you get none of that (well, except for some of the dance clubs) and it was expressed primarily in terms of food (it is a vegetarian festival, after all). I had a hankering for some of the noodles I’d been looking at all week, so I ordered a plate of yellow soba with mushrooms. A nice, cloying feel in the mouth, very greasy with a slightly slimy overtone. I quite enjoyed that. An hour or two after that, I found myself for lunch over at Silom Shopping Village. My friend, Pom, has her shop located there, and on Tuesdays the restaurant in the complex puts on an extensive spread of Thai food. I showed up to find she’d already ordered. We had some old favourites; Phat Thai a mixed rice dish - Khao kuk ka pi – fried pork, kapi (little dried shrimps), lime, and other bits and pieces. There was a pat woon sen – thin translucent noodles with a topping of fried chicken and pork. And a nice soup of Kao Laon. After lunch, I ran a few errands (or rather, waddled a few errands) and then made it back to the pool to try and do enough laps to get me into my dinner jacket. Dinner was at D’Sens. Canapés Tavel Rosé Amuse Bouche La déclinaison du Homard/Lobster Symphony Roasted in a caramel of apples, a carpaccio with seasonal mixed herbs, poached and slightly smoked served in a vegetable broth reduction Cruzes Hermitage White Petite Ruche 2004 Marinated black cod fillet in Port Wine and Sake, carrot emulsion flavoured with cumin Cruzes hermitage red petite ruche 2003 Saddle of lamb thin crust of coriander and lemon with green anise, tomato mousse, roasted in sherry vinegar. Gigondas, 2003 Assortment of farmhouse cheeses Chateauneuf du Pape La Bernardine 2004 Pre dessert Crispy Tourron with extra bitter cocoa and lemon sherbert Muscat des beaumes de venise 2003 Mignardines I arrived at the Dusit just a la minute. It had been years since I’d last been here, before the brothers Pourcel of Montpellier’s Le Jardin des Sens had followed up their Tokyo expansion with this thrust into the Bangkok market. Stepping out of the elevator onto the top floor, the Tiara of the Dusit, you step into the soft reds of the lobby, with curtains of redder beads setting the tone. At the bar I join some friends, take in the view overlooking Lumpini Park and Sukhumvit in the distance, and try the Tavel Rosé. It’s a very pleasant, soft rose, easy on the palate. Much more a “light” red than what I usually think of as a rosé. I see now why the people at Saveur in Vancouver were so happy to find the Joie Rose. They’d told me of the rosés they drank in France, and I’d quite enjoyed the Joie. I enjoyed this, and it made a good accompaniment with the canapés. These included: Lobster Samoussa Lobster flesh, couscous, bell peppers, herbs, and bisque reduction wrapped in a brick leaf. Salmon Rillettes on a Toast Poached salmon mixed with mayonnaise, shallots, and herbs served on a toast. Cod Fish Accras Shallots, spring onions, lemongrass, and chilies blended with cod flesh and flour. Sea Bream Spoon and Butternut Puree with Lemon Sauce Oven baked bream covered with lemon sauce and accompanied by a butternut puree, served a very pretty spoon. Smoked Duck Breast and Grilled Tuna Skewer Pretty much what it says, with a sauce of tomato, mayonnaise, and herbs. I should’ve taken more pictures, but I was too busy yakking with my friends, several more of whom had arrived during the canapés. The view is wonderful. There are taller buildings, but this, on the 22nd floor, benefits from the open vista across Lumpini Park, placing you with a panorama, but still close enough to the ground to appreciate the detailing. A similar effect to the Emporium, perhaps even more striking. If there is a down side, it is that this view is only really appreciated from the bar (and the facilities, but more on that later). M. Chapoutier had been wise enough to bring with them the charming (and very pretty and very qualified) Priscilla Teoh, the sommelier from Le Jardin des Sens in Montpellier. She was originally from Singapore, where she’d been the sommelier with Raffles. I’ve met some of the sommeliers in Singapore, and she’s from good quality. With her on hand, we had a much better idea of what M. Chapoutier was trying to accomplish, with a move towards “biodynamic” wines, dropping the use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides to preserve the terroir. They feel that they’ve only been very serious in the last 16 years, when Michael (the “M” in M. Chapoutier) took over. He’s been working with Robert Parker in making over the wines, looking to long macerations, developing length and depth in the mouth, while balancing this against a good nose. What we would be drinking would be younger, more straightforward wines. The Travel rosé we’d just had was composed of granache grapes, the famous variety originally from Spain, showing off, as we’d noticed, more of a “red” in the finish. The room stretches back around the Silom side of the building, with red the dominating theme. Our table, however, was all in white, a small tent of a table set on the second level up from the windows. This actually did afford a reasonable view across the bar, so we did not complain (although we did ask to lower the lights slightly). There were actually two amuse Bouche. The first a gazpacho of tomato and 4 other vegetables with a black olive sable. Then this was followed by a wonderful porcini soup in another shot glass, this one with a trio vegetable custard to go with it on one side, and a vegetable spring roll (with a touch of citrus) on the other. The porcini started well, and finished better, with the mushroom sludge at the bottom giving great texture as you finished the slurp. The trio of lobsters consisted of the roast, on top of the caramelized apples, gave a good strong flavour, a direct injection of flavour in the mouth; the carpaccio, which I could appreciate as a delicate flavour, showing off the herbs, but still I am put off by the texture of lobster when not cooked through, in opposition to raw prawns, which I find delightful….but that’s just me. Where was I? Oh, yeah, #3, the “poached and slightly smoked” which I did quite enjoy, with the background of the smoking there to play with your tongue. With this we’d enjoyed the Petite Ruche 2004, of the Rhone, lean, with delicate touches of honey and cantaloupe. This is made with a marsanne grape, and I believe someone at the table was noting some herbs in the finish. Priscilla, in talking of this wine, noted that it is the only white wine grape that will age over 50 years. This grape is still very popular in Australia, in addition to the Northern Rhone. The carrot emulsion made a great presentation for the fish, which followed on, the two spears of asparagus atop in a guard position. The flesh of the cod pulled away nicely, and the marinade of port and sake gave it a lingering sweetness. Beneath we wondered at the crunchy chopped bits of green, and were heartened to find out that we’d got it right as brussel sprouts. And with this a red, the scarlet sister to the Petite Ruche, this a very forceful Syrah (Shiraz), typical of the Norther Rhone, where only Syrah, Marsanne, and Roussanee are allowed. With 100% Syrah there’s plenty of fruit and spice to complement the sweetness of the carrots and the marinated fish. This has a good nose of grapes, fresh and abundant. Next was the saddle of lamb. Our table took in the aroma of coriander that rolled in ahead of the dish as the wait staff approached. The meat was excellent, and the dollop of mousse on the side, bright green anise with tomato and some potato (very light) whipped in for body was perfect with the meat. As was the wine. Later, when talking with her about the wonderful nose on this, she did advise that she’d had it opened for quite some time before to develop. This is one that I went back to again and again, just burying my nose in the glass and enjoying the aromas. This is a symphony of the Southern Rhone, comprising the Cinsaut, Grenache, Mourvedre, in harmony with the Syrah. A strong wine, just right for the boldness of the lamb. I had another bite of the lamb, added a bit of the mousse, and put my nose back into the glass before taking a good mouth, swallowing, and breathing in. And then I called for more. Cheese next to go with the Chateauneuf du Pape. A pretty collection of four cheeses; a classic Brie, the Tomme de Savoie, a creamy Robluchon, and the Morbiere. The Morbiere drew our attention immediately. We’d assumed it was a layer of “bleu” running through the middle, but Priscilla let us know ahead of biting in that it was a layer of ash, used to separate the morning and afternoon milks in the cheese. The Chateauneuf du Pape wines can include quite a variety of grapes, but M. Chapoutier’s Le Bernardine relies only upon Grenache and a hint of Syrah. The result is very good with the cheese, lacking the robustness of the Girondas, but still strong with good fruit and a background of earth. This was enough to call for a trip to the facilities. Others had urged me to take a gander, and it was spectacular. Now, this won’t be of as much use to women, but for us men, there’s something very satisfying to be able to use a clear glass window with a running patter of water draining away to the bottom, giving you a “clear” (depending upon your kidneys) view of the city below you. This is probably the most striking urinal I have ever had the opportunity to use. I returned to find a pretty little thing of a panna cotta found its way to my table, with strawberries trilling away in a layer, allowing us to linger on the red. And then the fortified Muscat de Beaumes de Venise 2003, a golden sweet finish to the wines of the night. This went with a dessert of a crispy Tourron, a Spanish nougat dessert sided with a crisp mille feuille of hazelnut and some lemon sorbet beside it to clear the nougaty taste of the Tourron. Some more Muscat, and a refill on the Girondas. And then some mignardines to fill things out (at least to fill out me). Happy little bites of chocolate and bakery tastes. So, after a nice little meal in the Thai capital, what next? Having made our farewells, several of my friends and I decamped for Vertigo’s Moon Bar at the Banyan Tree over on Sathorn for cigars. 61 floors above the streets of Bangkok, the Moon Bar is not the place for those with a fear of heights. But with the lights of the city spread out far below it does make a beautiful setting for a good gin martini (South, I believe, although I get a little fuzzy at this point). I had a nice chat with the bartendress from the Shangri-La. She had worked here before moving to the Shangri-La, but still loved coming here for the view. I had to agree. The bar is set further back from the restaurant, reached by another set of stairs. It sits as a square upon the platform, and is thankfully enclosed with an appropriately tall but good-looking railing. By one it was time to go. I made it down in one piece, hailed a cab, made a quick stop on Sukhumvit for some pork satay (no photos, sorry), and then went back up to my room to enjoy the view from the 37th floor.

Julian, Excellent review, and it puts Le Bouchon on my list for the next trip to KL. Synchronicity or coincidence, but Le Bouchon in Bangkok shares much of this; location (in the second, even seedier soi of Patpong), food quality, good cook, the very "bistro" attitude...... It's funny how these things happen. Cheers! Peter

Austin, While we're on eggplants, do you have any special handling tips for the tiny green eggplants, the ones that look like peas? I generally just stem them and toss them in early to get the flavour worked in. Any alternatives? Thanks!