moon cakes

Recently the mid-autumn full moon festival happened. I unfortunately missed it by a week when I was in Shanghai. However, I did partake in the gearing up for the full moon festival, which all really started for me when I was at the Starbucks in Bangkok a few weeks back. There, at the checkout counter, were moon cakes for sale with the Starbucks logo imprinted on top (usually, they have a pretty floral design or some other symbol that I am too ignorant to know the significance of). My instinct was to purchase the moon cake and consume it happily, but was taken aback by how expensive one pastry was (100 baht. When one is accustomed to spending 30 baht for lunch, that ~$3 is like sticker shock). Had I known that the moon cake actually weighs something in the order of two pounds, I would have reconsidered. Luckily for me, I went straight to the source (China) and bought a shoebox load and gleefully brought them back to Thailand for all my coworkers to enjoy. Unfortunately, the one I ate from China wasn't all that (booo!) so I went straight to Tesco and bought the most expensive one. Why was it so expensive? Because it was Durian moon cake. Only in Thailand. Unfortunately again, my moon cake did not live up to my expectation. In case you don't know, Durian is a peculiar fruit which half the population love and half hate. I'm in the latter camp, and that is because it smells like fart and tastes like fart. And when I eat it, I wretch, and then I break out in hives and my throat starts to close shut. I should have just bought the Starbucks moon cake. There's always next year....

(moon cakes are filled with a paste like yummy filling, and a hard boiled egg yolk)

amazing light

The fried tofu and vegetable in peanut sauce topped with creme fraiche was AMAZING but the Nikon D50 that captured this image using only available light (which was very very little) produced even more amazing results...

Fortune was told

Today I was having a conversation with the resort owner about including more vegetables in our meals, and then he asked me if I was happy with somtam. I thought he was talking about green papaya salad, so I said yes, I love Somtam and it makes me happy. "No! not somtam! No! Are you happy sometimes?" I smiled and emphatically said yes! most of the time. He told me the mole on my right cheek is preventing me from being happy. Wow, my mother has been telling me this for years. Is this an Asian thing? He subsequently took my hands into his and stroked the tips of my longest fingers, saying I had a difficult childhood and that is why my second and fourth fingers are uneven. It made me think about my parents divorce, being burned by scalding water, being separated from my sister, in an orphanage, and sojourning to the US and not knowing a single soul. He proceeded to tell me that he could see from my hands I help many people and that no one helps me in return. And so because of this, I should never expect people to pay me back or help me. I thought well, that is pretty reasonable. Could be just good advice, something I'll totally heed. He did reassure me, though, that when I hit rock bottom, someone will be there to pick me up. At which my new coworker, concerned about my destiny, invited me to stay with him if I am ever having problems. Glad that is covered! He also told me that I am a bullheaded person and that when I want something, contrary to the advice that my friends and family might proffer, I will go for it. He nailed that one. Then he got into the juicy stuff and told me that I have two people who are in love with me right now. I asked him who they are because clearly I've been left out in the dark. He proceeded to tell me that I am not really good at saving money. I was starting to not want to believe him. And that I also have a sixth sense and can occasionally know things are going to happen before they happen. OK, now he's becoming my friend again. And that I have a very deep secret only in my heart which makes me very sad and nervous.

vomiting

The only reason I know that Valentine's Day is coming up is because all the toy stores along the main drag are vomiting oversized stuffed animals out their doors in the shape of hearts and teddy bears and flowers, in very conspicuous colors like red and pink and hot pink, hot red! Red Hello Kitty heart-shaped dolls, heart-shaped pillows, pink non-descript shaped-somethings are spilling onto the sidewalks. I zip by these stores on my bicycle, with absolutely no reason to stop. As much as I would love to meander into one and peruse all the knick knacks they sell (which I actually enjoy doing if I have a few minutes to procrastinate), I've got more practical things to shop for - 2,500 small plastic medicine ziplock bags, some string, a bed net, toothpaste...On other occassions, when I have more free time and I do get a chance to take a 'brain break', I like to look at the endless quantities of either fake Lesportsac wristlet clutches or coin purses or cell phone doilies that cost a dollar or so. This activity makes me very happy. Sometimes on a hot day, I'll indulge in a bowl of Thai jelly dessert served over crushed ice or I'll get real Thai iced coffee brewed with a sock, served in a plastic bag and stroll the aisles and just buy something. Shopping here does not break the bank. Shirts cost a few bucks, a pair of jeans can cost 5 bucks. Other times, I'll go over to the store next to the air-conditioned coffee shop in town because there is a miniature pomeranian there and go over play with the dog. The store owner probably thinks I'm a little coo coo because I squeal just a little too loud every time I see the dog, but it's pretty darn cute. When it was a puppy, it fit in the palm of my hand. And my hands are small.

potlucks

Ahh...reminiscing the days of grad school and thursday night potlucks...

aizawl, textiles and pineapples

this is aizawl. for those of you who have heard me talk about this city, i make it sound really just gross and unpleasant, but it's all part of the grand plan to counter any tourism efforts made by the the government of india, because i want to keep it my little secret. this last trip was the longest i'd stayed in india, an entire 30 days, and i managed to channel the powers of an ashram into our hostel room every morning. and it worked. it also helped that we brought yoga mats and the awesome yoga shakti dvd by shiva rea.....during the rest of the 14 hours of the day, we did the usual international health stuff.

you never know who you're going to meet when you're doing a little pretesting in a developing country. we ended up meeting b------ migrant village full or textile factories, and the women were making the most vibrant fabrics. a lot of the traditional textiles in the mizo culture have actually been adopted from the b------ textiles since so many of the weavers migrated to india. the pens with the thread are shot through across the big old textile loom like contraption, all powered by women textile workers pedaling of their feet.


of course, i had to take another picture of a dog with gigantor mammaries. this is not uncommon but still, something about this dog's boobs intrigued me enough to send this out in the information superhighway thinking it might intrigue someone out there as well...




...and in another village we went to i came across the most wonderful thing! wild pineapples! wild pineapples!!

Connect the dots

My trip back to Mae Sot from Vientiane was something like this:

Local tuk tuk to bus station (10min) to another tuk tuk to Thai/Lao border (1 hr) to T/L Friendship bridge border shuttle (15min) to the wrong Lao shuttle, which would have me head back to Lao (10min) to local tuk tuk (10min) to private van to Udon Thani airplane (1 hr) to Bangkok (1 hr) to local airport shuttle (10 min) to the local 551 bus (1hr, heavy traffic) to taxi to haul my ass in traffic to bus terminal (30min), miss bus, wait 2 hrs for next bus to Mae Sot (8hrs) to mototaxi (5min). Home, in 18hrs.
That gave me enough time to digest all the croissants, baguettes, and other mysterious but delicious fried goodies I ate all weekend.


sweet corn dumpling waffles. and rice doughy fried yummy with coconut surprise.

the Vientiane's Arc de Triomphe.

italia…day 10…

one of the best meals ever: Osteria Nonna Gina.
-Antipasti: Lardo di colonnata (whole pig fat cured w/spices in marble vat). W/Tuscan bread and semi-aged pecorino! Unique, sumptuous, excellent.
-Main: Gnocchi alla Lella, cooked in the house special sauce. And let me tell you, it was special! Dumplings were filled w/a variety of cheeses, perhaps a gorgonzola type and a ricotta. The sauce actually evoked memories of childhood far far away, but I couldn’t figure out where or what. It had a creamy-like béchamel consistency w/some kind of nut, pistachio.
-Side: Boiled fresh fava beans flavored w/pancetta.
Theresa had the dry spaghetti. Apparently, there are certain pastas you eat dry, and others wet (fresh, home-made. E.g. Tagliatelle and Pici).
Lella was the cook (mom) and Dado was the dad! Apparently, I must have put the charm on Dado b/c he kept coming back to our table, which is unusual, according to Theresa. He complimented us w/Amaretto and grappa to have w/our macchiatos. On our way out, we chatted w/Lella, who wanted to set us up w/the kitchen help and kept asking how old I was. She also invited me to learn in her kitchen if I stayed! Dammit, why do I have to go back to work? Riecine also invited us to help w/the harvest and bottle in the fall, if we were still around. I will need to come back to Tuscany b/c there were not enough days here to eat everything. Instead, I will pathetically sneak back into the states about 6 bottles of wine, some wild boar salami, and a big head of unpasteurized pecorino to try to re-live my trip.

italia...day 9...

I’m in Siena, sitting in the shell-shaped something or other right in the middle of the town, where supposedly in the spring they let the horses run through for some festivities. Visited Il Duomo cathedral (molto gothic, built in the 12th C, where I’ve never seen so much in-laid marble. Most of the art was done by Pisarro and Donatello. Thea’s gone and am here by myself, meeting up w/another friend of a friend for dinner. However, for lunch, I had the most pleasant experience. I went to Trattoria Papei, their menu being a bit more extended than other home style restaurants. They had things like Zuppa du Cippola and wet pastas like Papardelle al Cinghiale. Dang, if I were a guy, I could eat so much more of the food here, what a bummer. Anyway, I got the Crostini de pate fegatini di pollo (chicken liver pate on toasted bread) and Fettini di Vitello (grilled slices of veal) w/a side of Carciofi al cartoccio (baked artichokes). Another excellent meal. I was about to ask for the bill, when my waiter brought over a glass of Vin Santo and a single Cantucci (what Americans call Biscotti, very dry dense almond cookie. In fact, biscotti here just means cookie). I think I had just discovered one of life’s most pleasant combinations, especially after a meal! Like rice and kimchee. My waiter pointed to 2 older gentlemen sitting at a table nearby who had so kindly ordered the dessert! How Italian and sweet! I went over to their table and greeted them w/a hearty kiss, a grazie and a arrivederci!

italia day 7

…day 7…today the food was the winner. At Badia a Coltibuono, an old abbey that still produces its own wine. We had the Tortino di Polento con Bacala mantecato al aglio e Cappera fritti (polenta pie w/whisked salted cod topped w/fried capers). The fried capers tasted like Korean seaweed. It was seasoned w/fresh rosemary and this dish was divine, just like the abbey. For the main course, I ordered the Farinata di mais ecastagne con verdure saltalte e pancetta coccante (Chestnut porridge w/steamed vegetables w/crunchy fried pancetta). I had that w/their 98 reserve chianti. YUM! Afterwards, we drove to a very small vineyard called Riecine where the sommelier, Alessandra, gave us a personal tour and chatted w/us for about 2 hours, giving us a firm lesson about Chianti. Basically, you’ve the DOC and the DOCG, the Consortio de Gallo Nero winemakers and it has nothing to do w/standards of taste. To be considered a Chianti Classico, you must follow certain Chianti-making procedures denoted by the DOC. If you don’t and there are many wines that don’t, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not good. Chiantis are made w/at least 85% Sangiovese and either Canolo Nero or Merlot. If they’re made w/anything else, then it’s a Super Tuscan, highly desired despite their non-classification status. At Riecine, I bought the 2000 CC (which needed a few years aging) and a Super Tuscan called La Goia (full-bodied and woody b/d they used new oak barrels rather the Chianti-standard old barrels. These are 100% Sangiovese, even though the standard minimum is 85%. She said the best years for Chiantis are 95 and 97. 98 was a bad year for several producers. We are now at a bar that serves 40 kinds of sandwiches, we’ve eaten cookies from Pasticeria Bini, recommended by my friend who used to live here a few years ago. Tomorrow – Montalcino!

italia…day 3…

we did it. la maratona della citta di Roma. Time 4 hours 33 minutes, baby. What I was totally aiming for. Thanks to the power trio – Thea (left), Mega (right), and me. And after our bath and 3 hours of fashion TV in our hotel room, we headed out to a bar, where we met some boys who invited us to their “Sinatra” theme party…Me affato pudiere conosherti! = pleased to meet you, that’s what I learned tonight. But back to the race…I totally cried when I crossed the finish line. I had no idea I was going to be that emotional…tomorrow, we’re playing things by ear, take it easy, maybe do a little shopping, eat some decent food (b/c that is something that has not been happening in this hotel) I can’t waste more days here eating crap like this. Did I mention all the boobs we watched popping out of the runway models’ outfits on fashion TV? And Thea’s rendition of it? I can’t decide which was funnier…