Lee's Unemployment Blog

Eating Global: Food from Central America

2011-06-18T10:24:00.031-05:00

Here are just a few of the tremendous things we enjoyed during a month traveling in Mexico, Guatemala and Belize. Foodies, take head: Get thee to Mexico.

Pollo tamale, outside Cancun ADO Bus Station, Mexico

Shrimp tacos, Merida Market, Mexico

Tortilleria, Merida Market, Mexico

Sweet Potatoes, Merida Market, Mexico

Habanero peppers, Merida Market, Mexico

Gorditas with pork and chicharrons, Merida, Mexico

Pickled yucca, Merida, Mexico

Mixto seafood cocktail, Campeche City, Mexico

Mango with chili and salt, Campeche City, Mexico

Grilled elote, San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico

Cappuccino, San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico

Pain de Elote, San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico

Chorizo tacos, San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico

Pupusa with pickled onions, slaw and tomato salsa, Panajachel, Lake Atitlan, Guatemala

Fresh tortillas, Panajachel, Lake Atitlan, Guatemala

Desayuno tipico, Panajachel, Lake Atitlan, Guatemala

Pupusa with pickled vegetables, Antigua, Guatemala

Torta with frijoles negro, guacamole and pickled vegetables, Antigua, Guatemala

Empanada, Antigua, Guatemala

Churrascos, Rio Dulce, Guatemala

Tapado, Livingston, Guatemala

Tapado carnage, Livingston, Guatemala

Whole fried fish, Tulum, Mexico

Pina Colada, Tulum, Mexico

Quesadilla frito, Cancun, Mexico

Liquado, Cancun, Mexico

Ropa Vieja, Little Havana, Miami, USA

The Last Supper: French-Moroccan at Les Degres de Notre Dame

2009-11-25T02:35:00.004-06:00

My final meal in Paris (besides the croissant I am about to run out and get) featured excellent company, tasty Moroccan flavors and a healthy dose of cheap red wine. Nous partagons (shared—yes, half my new vocab words have to do with ordering food) a tangine with chicken, couscous with various meats and a couple appetizers. They had some of the best harissa I've ever tasted.

I took the long way home, along the Seine, through the city, slightly buzzed. There are few times I've been happier.

Needless to say, it was a lovely end to a lovely trip.

I'll be posting a couple closing thoughts and some file photos once I'm back stateside.

Bon Voyage! (to me)

Oysters in the 14e: Most Ridiculous Afternoon Snack Ever

2009-11-24T11:42:00.003-06:00

Today is my last full day in Paris, so I tried to eat a couple things that I hadn't eaten yet. I had a galette (buckwheat crepe) and, then, finally, grabbed some French oysters in what would have to be the most extravagant afternoon snack of my life.

I ordered a glass of white wine, and took the recommendation from my server for some huitres "special." When they came, I almost did a spit-take. Babies got back. And, by that I mean that the things were huge! Jon-Gosselin-Ed-Hardy-tshirt-collection huge! I have never seen anything like it. The shells looked like soap dishes. In terms of surprisingly large foods, these suckers rivaled those prawns-the-size-of-kittens from Langkawi in Malaysia.

They were also delicious, even if it was in a mildly Fear Factor-esque way. Briny and tender, with a different character than the US variety, those meaty bastards were a lovely addition to my last hours in Paris.

Here is a pic of the galette:

In Case You're Wondering...

2009-11-24T11:11:00.002-06:00

I haven't gained any weight since I've been here. I was wondering if people were wondering, and my mother finally asked (and played it off as a joke). Yes, I've been eating butter (croissants for breakfast!!) and cheese and bread and meat in proportions that I would find shocking in my normal life—but, get this, I think I might even have lost a few pounds.

To someone as profoundly interested in America's insanely disfunctional relationship with food as myself, this is fascinating. (I also can't seem to get a hangover no matter how much red wine I drink; explain that one!) I can think of multiple explanations.

First off: I walk. A lot. On a slow day I probably trek 3-4 miles. On a long day, closer to 8-10. (I swear I'm not exaggerating—I gmap-pedometer'd that shit.) This is obviously the biggest factor.

Two: The portions are smaller. Scoops of ice cream are often the size of golf balls and portions of beef about the size of a large fist. This rule loses some of it's thrust, however, when one eats an entire baguette for dinner.

Three: No processed or "junk" foods (well, besides that tiny packet of Haribou gummy bears I ate...on the train back from Amsterdam...Amsterdam.) This means no high fructose corn syrup sneaking its way into my bread or cheese. It also means no artificial sweeteners (which mess with the metabolism) and no sodium overdoses bloating the bloodstream.

There are probably a hundred other small factors, but either way, this European lifestyle really is something to see. People eat pretty much what they want and no one is fat.

Bring on Thanksgiving!

Yowza: L'As Du Falafel

2009-11-23T10:03:00.003-06:00

I spent an embarassing amount of time today trying to come up with a hyperbolic superlative strong enough to title this post. I considered an expletive, but then remembered that my niece has been known to read the blog. (Hi Dahlia!)

This falafel—bought on Rue de Rossiers in Le Marais from local legend L'As du Falafel—absolutely rocked my world. For reals. I giggled, aloud, several times. It was insanely delicious. The balls themselves were small, light and freshly fried. The fixins (which included marinated eggplant, tomato, julienned cucumber, two kinds of slaw, some kind of yogurt magic and chili sauce) were perfection. Have I mentioned that I enjoyed this meal?

Any sandwich that comes with a fork is serious business. Look upon it with wonder:

Amsterdam Part 3: Finally, A Dutch Specialty

2009-11-23T09:54:00.003-06:00

We were joined for Sunday brunch by my friend's coworker who just happens to be Dutch, born and bred in Amsterdam. We met up at Café Luxembourg, apparently a local institution (they were serving the "Dutch Ryan Seacrest" during our visit). This was finally my opportunity to try something truly local, under the watchful eye of a native. We ordered bitterballen, a croquette of potato and meat, fried to perfection and served with a mustard sauce. The potato purée inside was surprisingly smooth and melty. Salty and savory,with a wonderful confluence of textures, they were undeniably delicious.

Amsterdam Part 2: The Dutch Love Their Dogs

2009-11-22T17:08:00.002-06:00

There are hot dog stands everywhere in Amsterdam, including outside the Van Gogh Museum. Lucky for us, we needed some sustenance after elbowing our way through that mob scene. They had kraut, fresh pickles, and chopped onions.

Unfortunately I bailed on my promise (to myself) that I would try one of the ubiquitous herring sandwiches (sold at street stands and dressed with pickles and onions). It wasn't my fault: My traveling companion threatened to be traumatized.

Amsterdam Part 1: Epic Indonesian

2009-11-22T16:52:00.003-06:00

This was one of the most epic meals of my life, and an experience I recommend for any visitor to Amsterdam. It's called "Rijsttafel," and, for one price, we were served about 25 dishes full of traditional Indonesian delicacies. Indonesia is a former Dutch colony, and—as I learned in Marseille—that is always a good place to start when it comes to a country's best ethnic cuisine.

Highlights? Stewed beef with an astounding, deep ginger flavor. Fried chicken drumstick (with a light rice flour crust). Bean spout, egg and green bean salad with peanut sauce. Vegetables in coconut milk. Braised chicken. Hyper-intense pickles. And it just went on and on. Everything tasted even better with a splash of sambal (chili sauce).

What follows is a hazy collage of this jaw-dropping array.

Smoke Break: A Weekend in Amsterdam

2009-11-20T01:21:00.001-06:00

I'll be in Amsterdam for the weekend, laptopless, but look forward to a full report on Monday.

Eye Candy: The Aix en Provence Bio (Organic) Market

2009-11-19T17:23:00.003-06:00

Top Notch: Cote D'Ivoirian Food in Marseille

2009-11-19T09:40:00.003-06:00

This was one of my favorite meals of the trip so far. Marseille has amazing ethnic food—and I figure this is the closest (geographically and culturally) that I'm gonna get to Africa in the near future. Said meal was eaten at a place where the chef/owner is known simply as "Mama Africa." We had beef with peanut sauce, whole fish with tomatoes and onions, fried plantains and rice, all greatly augmented by some killer hot sauce. We washed everything down with fresh ginger juice; something that has to be tasted to be believed. Be jealous of this meal. Be very jealous.

I just wish I could eat Ivoirian all the time...

Pastry Party: Citrus Tart

2009-11-18T03:26:00.003-06:00

On Monday, after a long day at the Louvre, my companion and I were mildly starving. We still had some cheese at my place (including an 18-month comte that is changing the way I see the universe), so we decided we would grab a baguette at Eric Kayser Boulangerie, a pretty famous place on our way home.

When we got there, it was the pre-dinner rush (baguettes only have a lifespan of about six hours, according to some expert bakers) and there was a line out the door. By the time we reached the front, our eyes and stomachs were going a little crazy. We ended up ordering our baguette, a small citrus tart, a loaf of pistachio-apricot brioche and a couple macarons, a traditional French sandwich cookie tradition I had yet to try.

Then it happened. The woman behind the counter passed me my bag and I went weak at the knees: The baguette was still hot. I can honestly say that a fresh, Parisian baguette from a top-flight boulangerie is one of life's most exquisite pleasures.

Our smorgasbord was spectacular. And we ended it with this citrus tart. It had the mouth-puckering zing of the best key lime pie, and a French-quality pastry shell. Baller.

Life's Simple Pleasures: Steak Tartare and Afternoon Drinkin

2009-11-17T08:18:00.005-06:00

Over the weekend, I cashed in on another recommendation and enjoyed an afternoon snack/drink at Ma Bourgogne on Place de Voges. The place is famous for their steak tartare, and it was simply perfect: the meat was meltingly tender, and the fattiness was perfectly balanced by french mustard and capers. There was something so old school about it. Needless to say, I loved it. We also had more escargot.

The Best Meal So Far: Le Trumilou

2009-11-17T07:46:00.004-06:00

This family bistro came highly recommended. Their house specialty is duck slow roasted with prunes. It was amazing. We also enjoyed a mind-bending steak au poivre, taken to the next level by fresh green peppercorns. They also had amazing bread, and served the table a platter full of wonderful french fries. It was affordable and homey—and somewhere I would insist my friends find when they hit up Paris.

Paris, in a Picture

2009-11-15T03:19:00.002-06:00

This image captures so much of why I love it here.

The Best Thing Ever: Thursday Night's Dessert

2009-11-15T03:13:00.002-06:00

This tasted like brownie batter from heaven, with almonds.

At Last, My Love Has Come Along: Bertillon Glace

2009-11-11T16:00:00.003-06:00

So, today I finally got to sample Berthillon's famous ice creams. I read about them a few weeks ago in the book Remembrance of Things Paris, a collection of essays from Gourmet Magazine (rip). Back in 1973, a writer visited the hallowed headquarters and snuck a visit with the curmudgeonly Monsieur Berthillon. Direct quote: "I am not interested in people who come here during a heat wave. I like them to come when it's snowing and zero outside. Then they come to enjoy my fine ices and not just to cool themselves."

Today, it was in the 40s, and we grabbed a couple scoops on Ile Saint-Louis, home to the original shop (the famous, creamy concoctions are now sold all over the city). Choosing from a list of about 25 flavors was a tall order—thank goodness for these double cones! I ended up settling on caramel buerre sale and vanille (salted caramel and vanilla), while my buddy Julie indulged in licorice and get-you-wasted-its-so-intense rum raisin. (Seem like a strange combo? She insisted on choosing without hearing the English definitions of the flavors—how adventurous!)

Rich and intense, the ice creams were as good as advertised.

For dinner, we ate cheese, cured meat, grapes, bread and wine. One of the cheeses, chosen at random, smelled like dirty socks (or, as Julie put it, "Like a petting zoo"), and it tasted like it too. Everything else was delicious, especially the 18-month-old comté—mmmm...unpasteurized. Guess you can't win em all!

Dinner at Brasserie Balzar: Specialness

2009-11-10T08:17:00.003-06:00

Yes, it's true. I've been eating a fair amount of ethnic food since I've been here—especially when it comes to actual meals out. Not so last night.

After a couple glasses of wine at the café on my corner, Rob and I headed to a real French place for a late dinner. The waiters were in white shirts and black ties. Snails and fois gras were on the menu. It was legit.

Our waiter in particular was quite sassy. He made fun of my accent but also flirted and kept inviting Rob to leave him alone with me. It was 100 percent charming, et si droll.

We went all out with the eating. I had my first escargot of the trip, though certainly not my last—steamed with butter and fresh herbs, they were the unabashed highlight of the meal. That's not to say that everything else wasn't delicious. We had funky goat cheese on toast with salad, roasted lamb with a side of white beans that changed Rob's life and a cut of steak au poive swimming in a rich, creamy sauce (perfect sopped up with bread and frites). The meal ended with milky creme caramel and a couple cafés. It was so much fun.

Food Friend: Lee Gets a Buddy

2009-11-08T03:45:00.007-06:00

Late Friday night, friend-of-a-friend (and now my friend) Rob arrived from Aix en Provence. He's lived in Paris before, speaks fluent French, and is almost as food-obsessed as yours truly. After a morning coffee and croissant, we spent some time walking around the city, hit up an art exhibit at the L'Institut Du Monde Arabe, and then headed over to Le Marais, the old Jewish neighborhood, for a visit to Finkelsztajn, an amazing old school deli. After a long day, we came back to my place, drank some excellent French wine from the South and then headed to a local—and much beloved—bare-bones Vietnamese place in my neighborhood. It was a good day.

Rue des Rossiers in Le Marais

Finkelsztajn Deli

Big Pletzl Sandwich, ewe's milk bureka, cabbage and corned beef perogi, apple strudel...

Coffee at the Swedish Cultural Center

Wine at my place

Foyer du Vietnam

Glace de passion fruit and coconut.

Croissant: A Love Story in Pictures

2009-11-06T04:55:00.003-06:00

This croissant is from Maison Morange Boulangerie - Patisserie. It's really close to my house (in the Rue Mouffetard Market), and it was where I bought that first sandwich and first croissant. Turns out, its not just that the French are good at this stuff, but that this place is amazing at this stuff—at the miraculous alchemy of flour, water and butter. It's kinda become my go-to.

Best Thai Food Since Asia? In Paris?! C'est Vrai!

2009-11-05T16:54:00.002-06:00

Today, I took the metro out to the edges of the city to visit a rustic park that came highly recommended. There were few people and the views of the city (and Sacre Coeur in particular) were spectacular—it was well worth it. It was also cool to be in a different part of Paris, away from the tourist hordes. After wandering around the park for a bit, I was hungry. I took a peak in my (stupendous) little map/guide book and noticed that "some of the best Thai food in Paris" was about a ten minute walk away. You don't have to tell me twice!

When I arrived at Lao Siam in Belleville, it was packed—always a good sign. After a minor language barrier issue with the waitress (who spoke Thai and French but no English), I was treated to a splendid meal filled with authentic, zippy flavors. I started with som tom (obvs), and it was the best I've had outside of Thailand. I also ordered a squid dish with basil, bamboo shoots and fresh peppercorns. They did that super-duper awesome thing where they score the squid, causing the pieces to curl up and stay perfectly tender.

I think this place might even be worth a second visit...

Petit Dejeuner in Le Marais

2009-11-04T15:55:00.002-06:00

Now that's how you scramble an egg! These oeufs were obviously done low and slow, which allowed them to develop that lovely, creamy curd. They came with some fresh peppery arugula and—duh—killer baguette. Paired with a delicious café, it was simply perfect.

Don't Be Tarte-y for the Party. Zing!

2009-11-03T16:45:00.003-06:00

Today I had my first French tarte, or quiche. I brought it home from a place around the corner from my apartment with a pun-y name (on Rue Mouffetard, called "Mouff-tarte"—get it?) and it was delicious. There was spinach and chevre and a crunchy crust.

And yes, those are clementines in the background. I bought a bunch at the market today and have already eaten about six.

On a side note, there has been a complaint that I'm writing too much about food on this blog. Sorry, that's what its about—this isn't LiveJournal. If you want a more comprehensive sense of my experience, check out facebook or drop me an email. That said, as a peace offering, here is a picture of Notre Dame at night:

On a Side Note: Shakespeare & Co. is Charming

2009-11-02T16:08:00.003-06:00

I was seated right below this mural featuring famous children's books during the reading. I loved it, and thought I would share. (Click to enlarge.)

Monday: Unexpected—and Delicious—Surprises

2009-11-02T15:55:00.003-06:00

I've felt a certain pressure to focus completely on French food, which is ironic since when I'm in major American cities I'm mostly interested in discovering which ethnic foods they do best.

But tonight, I attended a reading by a British author (Michael Smith; really moving and droll) at the ex-pat book shop Shakespeare & Co. I was meeting up with a friend of a friend who works there, and after a lovely chat and some plan-making for later in the week, she pointed me in the direction of some cheap, delicious, quick food in the neighborhood.

I had noticed a bunch of Lebanese restaurants in my neighborhood, so it was no surprise when she recommended one. I ordered this schwarma sandwich and it made me smile. The meat was flavorful, the pita was tender and crunchy on the outside from a trip to the panini press, there were fresh tomatoes and some kind of pickled vegetable business (those of you who know my eating habits well know how I feel about that!), and the whole thing was brought together by what tasted like tahini.

I also nabbed a tiny morsel of pistachio baklava, and it was some of the best I've ever had. Lebanese is officially in my repertoire.

Rainy Day Music: Sunday in Paris

2009-11-01T13:46:00.003-06:00

The weather today was super, duper gross—rainy and WINDY. So, I gave myself permission to kind of take the day off. I listened to some Dan Savage, cleaned out my computer hard drive (I've been having some ordinateur issues) and did some writing.

I also ventured out for un café (can't go a day without one) and nabbed a crépe with nutella. Yum.

My First Real Bistro Meal: Salt Pork and Lentils

2009-10-31T16:49:00.002-05:00

I kind of made a pact with myself that when ordering out at restaurants in Paris, I would explore the unfamiliar. Yes, I plan on downing some steak frites and soupe oignon gratineé, but I also wanted to experience fare that you can't really find in the states. Today, I made good on that promise. At a small bisto in Le Marais, I ordered petit salé avec lentilles—or, salt pork over lentils.

The pork came out looking like a big piece of holiday ham, but the texture was amazing—it flaked apart, almost like really good brisket. The lentils (french lentils are really something special) were cooked with bacon and carrots and added a rich earthiness to each bite. It was subtle and delicious, and I walked away smiling.

Paris Reunites Me with a Long Lost Love: Taramosalata

2009-10-31T16:27:00.003-05:00

Ever since our family traveled to Australia, where this salty, strange, magical dip is somewhat ubiquitous, my little brother and I have been obsessed. (Thank you Nolan, wise brother-in-law.) Made with cod roe, olive oil, garlic, lemon and usually breadcrumbs, this Greek/Turkish marvel has a mild, tender, fishy funk—and is simply wondrous.

Tonight for dinner, I planned to make further progress on the cheeses in my fridge. I bought a fresh baguette in Le Marais (along with a ficelle—a skinny little mini baguette thing—studded with flecks of chorizo: smoky and awesome) and I still had 3/4 of a bottle of red wine in my apartment. Then, I passed a shop selling Greek specialties and got Taramosalata on the brain. I didn't stop, and regretted it. Then. THEN! I was walking down Rue Mouffetard, just a few blocks from home, and I passed another Greek spot. This time, I grabbed some of the pale pink elixir. As of this writing, I haven't even touched my cheese.

My First Croissant: Better Than it Has Any Right to Be

2009-10-30T14:48:00.003-05:00

As with most delicious things in Paris, this croissant exceeded expectations. On other intake related notes, I realized today that I have been riding the red-wine-café rollercoaster. I have an expresso, then a glass of wine with lunch, then an afternoon café, then a late afternoon verre de vin. It creates some funny sensations. I like it.

It also helped me enjoy the Musée D'Orsay a smidge more. I always forget that I find impressionism such a snooze—everything just looks kind of washed out to me. (I think it's because I have no soul.) Stoked for the Pompidou!

One final Seinfeld-esque observation: What's the deal with tourists taking pictures of famous pictures in museums? Do they think their friends and families won't believe they really saw it? It's the only explanation I come up with.

(For those of you interested in more pictures, check out my facebook. I've been posting a ton.)

My First Home Cooked Meal in Paris: Braised Chicken Legs

2009-10-29T15:06:00.012-05:00

Braised chicken with leeks, carrots, garlic, cherry tomatoes and red wine. As with most chicken dishes I make, I ended up more interested in sopping up the sauce with bread than actually eating the meat. Still, it was a huge success. A play-by-play in pics, after the jump.

Cleaning some leeks, drinking some wine.

Mise en place.

I browned the chicken, then sauteed the veggies.

Added the tomatoes, some parsley and red wine.

Then in went the chicken, and some liquid. Cover and cook for 45 minutes, and dinner is served.

Day Two: My First Market Haul

2009-10-29T09:29:00.005-05:00

(Someone is playing trumpet somewhere, and I can hear it through my window. Beautiful)

I still have to get some protein for what is going to be some kind of braised meat-and-veggie dish, but I have returned from my first real food shopping trip. It was fun. And I got CHEESE.

I am also realizing the limitations of my rusty French. Sometimes I think it would be better if I didn't speak the language at all (that's a lie). The problem is that I can clearly state what I want, and in a very servicable accent. I appear to have my shit together, and then struggle with the follow up question. It's awkward. The casual speed and beautiful slurred-together lilt with which French people speak is charming, but makes it tres difficile pour moi to understand. That said, I have been here only a little more than 24 hours, so I hope that will improve.

So, back to the cheeses. One is a chevre with herbs, the other is something creamy and funky. They were awesome. Here's a picture.

Day One: A Sandwich Changes My Life

2009-10-28T10:35:00.003-05:00

Getting here was a bit of a haul. I took the metro, and I had a huge bag, and I hadn't slept. Fortunately, even though I couldn't occupy my place until 4 p.m., I was able to drop off my bags around 11, and venture off into the city.

And I was hungry. Like borderline quesy hungry. I lectured myself to get the first thing that looked decent (I tend to get really picky when I travel—like if every meal isn't special I've somehow failed), but ended up wandering up and down the Rue Mouffetard, an open-air market street one block over from my new abode.

Finally, something caught my eye. At a boulangerie (bakery) there were some simple—but special!—looking sandwiches. One of them had some kind of soppresata-lookin' cured meat deal going on (a serious weakness of mine), plus greens, cornichons and butter (all things I also like). The woman behind the counter slid the sammy into a slim plastic bag, handed it over, and, as I walked away, I immediately started eating.

I took my first bite out of hunger, not hoping for any kind of transcendent culinary experience. Then I started giggling. Then I almost started to scream.

Now, I love bread. A lot. But I guess I only thought bread could be so good. I had heard tales, obvs, of the special magic conjured by a Parisian baguette, but I had assumed it would be a simple step up. Well, this bread was Jimmy Rollins, and everything I have ever had before was Jonathan Broxton. It shamed them. I simply could not get over it. And don't even get me started on the tart sweetness of the cornichons against the fatty meat!

This is gonna be a great trip. Tonight I'm watching the World Series at a Canadian sports bar called The Moose...

Packing for Paris: Culinary Edition

2009-10-27T09:55:00.003-05:00

(Tonight I leave for Paris. I'll be there for one month, and hopefully blogging daily. Check back for more of my exciting adventures.)

One of the reasons I decided to rent an apartment in Paris (besides it being the cheapest option for a month stay), was because I can't imagine not being able to troll the markets and cook. To me, it's 75 percent of my motivation for even going.

My studio in the 5e (which I'll be seeing in person for the first time tomorrow, Eek!) had one of the more impressive kitchens in my price range. Though that isn't really saying much—many places had little more than a hot plate, while this one has two small burners and a modicum of counter space. It also has a nice wooden table for eating (and working and blogging) with a view out the sixth floor windows onto the Latin Quarter below.

I'm assuming the kitchen will have utensils and a knife or two—and I'm all about guerrilla cooking—but I thought I should bring a couple essentials to aid in the process. Mostly, that means my little, yellow Le Creuset (which has been in our family for years), a microplane for grating (cheese, obvs) and zesting, a peeler and a small wooden spoon. If I need to pick up a cheap skillet over there, it will be easy enough, along with any other needed supplies. How long do you think it'll be before I'm braising some lapin? Let the experiments begin!

This Blog is About to Get Much More Exciting: Paris-bound

2009-10-06T10:04:00.002-05:00

I'll be in Paris from Oct. 28 through Nov. 25. I'll be eating—and cooking!—and, hopefully, having my mind blown. Oh, and I'll be blogging, daily.

Awesomeness: Impromptu Tofu Bahn Mi

2009-09-21T13:44:00.002-05:00

Sometimes it helps to have a deep, long think about what is actually in your fridge. I knew I had my favorite extra, extra firm tofu from the Vietnamese grocery store, cilantro, jalepenos and bibb lettuce from Saturday's farmers market and a couple limes. So, I grabbed a Metropolitan Bakery baguette from South Square Market and whipped up a take on a bahn mi. I salted the tofu and gave it a quick sear in a skillet—just to get that chewy crust thing going. I made a sauce by mixing mayo, fish sauce, lime, scallions and black pepper. I put both on the roll with plenty of the beautiful bibb lettuce, thinly sliced peppers and a big ole handful of cilantro.

This sandwich is now officially in my repertoire. It was delicious—hearty and tangy and spicy and healthy. Woohoo.

Pizza Party: Homemade Dough

2009-08-18T11:38:00.006-05:00

On Sunday, I made pizza dough from scratch for the first time. It was E-Z. I used Jamie Oliver's recipe from Jamie at Home (which I halved), and though the texture was more airy and crisp than chewy perfection, both the pizzas I've made so far were downright delicious.

I've always liked making pizza at home—you can trace my culinary trajectory from Boboli to pre-made commercial doughs to nabbing some on the cheap from local pizzarias—because you can pile on favorite ingredients, use up fridge detritus and keep the whole affair pretty healthy.

Things I had lying around: soppresata, blue cheese, beautiful heirloom tomatoes, onions, pinolis and corn. The blue cheese really is a lovely alternative to milder cheeses—you can use less and still get a full brunt of flavor. I baked them with the help of my trusty pizza stone, and both took less than ten minutes to get perfectly crisp.

Here is Sunday's version: tomato, pinolis, onions and sliced soppresata with blue cheese. The soppresata was MVP—adding the perfect chewy crackle and salty tang. And, I only used two small deli slices for the whole darn pie.

And here is today's lunch: a personal sized pie with corn (most underrated pizza topping EVER), onions, the most exquisite red and yellow-flecked tomato, sliced soppresata, blue cheese and a sprinkling of fresh grated parmesean.
Once you start doing these things—making dough, baking bread, throwing things together—it becomes clear how simple they are. No wonder people have been at it for centuries.

Friday Lunch in Philly: Putting Some Local Figs to Good Use

2009-08-14T13:50:00.004-05:00

At the Wednesday afternoon Farmers' Market near Schuylkill Banks, I couldn't resist the small containers of fresh figs for only $2. My favorite all-time fig flavor pairing—it's a classic—is with blue cheese. So, I picked up a small hunk, a fresh multi-grain roll from DiBruno Brothers and mixed up some honey with some balsamic vinegar to make a simple, sweet and acidic sauce.
As a side dish, I tossed some beautiful, local heirloom tomatoes (mostly yellow, with streaks of red that reminded me of the broken tulips from Botany of Desire) with some nice California olive oil, salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon. It was a nice time.

Spring Mix: Today's Grab-Bag Salad Impresses

2009-06-09T14:23:00.004-05:00

Due to a spontaneous trip to Washington D.C. on Sunday (to see the always-excellent Hold Steady), I didn't have a lot of time to follow through on my more ambitious plans for my farmer's market haul. Fortunately, this resulted in a full fridge of ingredients to play with when I had a hankering for a light lunch today.

I tossed that amazing arugula with some pea shoots, threw in some toasted pine nuts and some leftover peas (blanched and then tossed with lemon, mint and olive oil last night) and topped the whole thing with local feta and some cubes of grilled pumpkin seed-sourdough bread from Le Bus. A homemade lemon-dijon vinagrette brought this beautifully verdant collage together in harmony.

A lunch like that really makes you feel like you've done something good for yourself (except for when that pea shoot went up my nose)—it was the culinary antithesis to the two hours I spent watching The Bachelorette last night.

Fitler Square Farmer's Market: Today's Haul

2009-06-06T12:31:00.003-05:00

I just got back from the Saturday morning market at Fitler Square (23rd & Pine). It's a small collection of stalls, but the produce is local and beautiful. Today I grabbed some strawberries, some arugula that smells like pure, peppery heaven, some fresh peas and a small stash of pea shoots (ironically, the peas and shoots came from separate stalls). With those last two gems I plan on finally trying out a Jamie Oliver recipe I have been lusting after in Jamie at Home—"smashed peas" with mint on toast. Sounds like summer on a stick (well, on a slice of garlic-rubbed grilled bread).

Motown Philly, Back Again

2009-05-17T11:51:00.003-05:00

I'm moving back to Philly in about 10 days where I hope to resume my bloggy ways. Get excited for a 1000 word treatise on those WaWa hoagie order touch machines (preview: Genius!).

Check Me Out on Bites

2009-02-11T14:25:00.002-06:00

I know, I know—I've been slacking. But I have been blogging everyday over at Bites, the Nashville Scene's lively food blog. Check me out over there for your fix.

These Eyes Were Not Tearless...

2009-01-29T16:57:00.001-06:00

Printed today in the New York Times:

Requiem

It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
“Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise — depths unplumbable!”

Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
“I thought he died a while ago.”

For life’s a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.

— JOHN UPDIKE

LOST: Will Someone Please Get That Man a Shirt!?

2009-01-22T14:44:00.002-06:00

But wait, there are more important things about last night's episode of LOST than Sawyer's glistening chest! After the premiere's time traveling madness, it seems like this video (released at 2008 ComicCon) includes some serious clues:

First off, that is definitely Faraday working the camcorder—and now we know he was most definitely in the Dharma-era past at some point. Secondly, could all the problems Chang seems to have with his hand/arm be connected to the hand-chopping-happy crew Sawyer and Juliet encountered in the jungle in the premier?! (TFJ io9 for that connection.)

Grrrr....Arghh

2009-01-21T16:02:00.003-06:00

All this inauguration stuff is making me nostalgic for the campaign. Remember this indelible pic?

The best part is that I found it by searching "McCain Obama Debate Monster."

(Nothing better for my blogging productivity than having an interview to transcribe.)

OMFG: LOST Tonight!

2009-01-21T15:26:00.003-06:00

It's been a big couple days on the television set.

Quote of the week about LOST:

Brian: "Remember when this was a show about polar bears."

Embrace change young man.

The group I might be most excited to learn more about are our three young freighties—all still on the island or in its vicinity. Remember this exchange:

(Forgive the subtitles.)

Miles is sassy.

Though Fairuza Balk Does Make Me Think of This...

2009-01-21T10:31:00.002-06:00

Which makes me happy. Return to Oz is the raddest. Or, most rad.

Why...

2009-01-21T10:27:00.001-06:00

...am I watching The Craft right now? I gotta get a job.

It's A New Day

2009-01-20T13:39:00.002-06:00

I've been pretty truant with this blog because I've been so under the weather. But today I got to watch Barack Obama be sworn in as President. It was pretty special.

Top Ten Things I Ate In Asia

2009-01-15T12:13:00.003-06:00

In no particular order:

- Barbecue squid with crazy, tangy, awesome orange sauce on Langkawi: I don't know what was in this sauce, perhaps the tears of angels.
- Samosa in Georgetown, Penang's Little India: This samosa was unlike any I've ever had—an intensely thick shell stuffed with shockingly verdant whole peas and strings of fresh herbs. That samosa to your average samosa was like brick oven pizza from a place with a line out the door to Pizza Hut.
- Pad Thai from the hole-in-the-wall on Sulli's block: I ate a fair amount of Pad Thai in Thailand, but this version was the paragon—high ratio of bean sprouts to noodles, plenty of peanuts, big strands of green onion and plump, perfectly cooked shrimp. The $1 price tag didn't hurt.
- Stir-fried red curry with mixed seafood at our bungalow on Koh Lanta: Our home on Koh Lanta had excellent food. Once, we tried to expand our horizons and ate in town—big mistake. We ordered this dish at least three times. The curry was hot, the squid was tender and the balance of flavors was perfection.
- Shrimp with marinated cabbage in Krabi Town: This dish was kind of unexpected. I ordered it on a whim and was blow away. The cabbage was thick and tangy, with a pleasant crunch. It didn't hurt that our dinner also featured the best green curry I had in Thailand.
- Fried chicken on the waterfront in Krabi Town: Crunchy, slightly spicy, and freshly fried—it was the best fried chicken I've ever had.
- Som Tom, everywhere: There is nothing I will miss more than the searing pain of freshly made som tom. Women on the street make it with a mortal and pestle, stuff it into plastic bags and pass you the tangy, crunchy, spicy magic. Oh, and it comes with sticky rice.
- Satay in Georgetown, Penang: I thought I knew satay, but I knew nothing of the tender little chunks of marinated meat served with a peanut sauce that put anything made stateside to shame.
- Barbecue eel in Narita, Japan: This meal was vastly improved by the experience of eating in a bustling little restaurant as men cleaned eel in the window and waitresses squeezed between tables toting pots of hot green tea.
- Fruit shakes, everywhere: Most fruit shakes in Thailand are done simply with fruit, a dash of sugar water and ice—pure heaven.

Crappy with a Capital CRAP

2009-01-15T07:36:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I felt so crappy that I was forced to look up "jet lag" on Wikipedia to make sure that was all that was going on. Not only was I up one full night, I was up two straight nights thanks to my ten hour layover in Narita and my complete inability to sleep on planes. And I am trying to adjust to a 12 hour difference, which must be the worst possible shift. Anyway, after a 3-hour afternoon nap, a 2-hour nighttime nap and 9 hours of sleep, I'm hope I'm seeing the light at the end of this crappy jet lag tunnel.

Brrrr...It's Cold in Here

2009-01-14T09:54:00.002-06:00

One of my favorite all-time lines in any rock song is from Spoon's "Rhthm & Soul." Britt Daniel sings—with his signature heartbreaking nonchalance—"Winter, it gets cold in ways you always forget." It's a simple statement (and obviously an emotional metaphor) but sooo true.

Needless to say, it's been on my mind over the last two days. When I left for Thailand we had yet to experience real winter temperatures. And, after a month in a tropical paradise, I had no idea what 25 degrees would feel like. It feels cold. In your bones. And it's only gonna get colder.

But even harder to adjust to is the greyness of American winter—the overall lack of color. Good thing I have Doug, and a hoard of loose green tea I bought in Japan, to keep me warm.

"Don't Ever Leave Me"

2009-01-13T11:20:00.004-06:00

Tonight I fly back to Nashville and reunite with Doug. It might take him a few sniffs and a couple headbutts to remember me, but I think it will go something like this:

Brian is Miss Minchin.

Bad Things I Watch: Rock of Love Bus Welcomes Me Back to America

2009-01-13T09:34:00.004-06:00

Last night, after a quick pizza dinner with my little bro (thanks Eli), I crashed. Hard. I slept a deep and dreamless sleep until I awoke around 6 a.m. and couldn't find my way back to slumber. I decided to turn on the TV and then give it another try in a couple hours.

What I discovered on that illuminated screen was probably the most depressing welcome home I could have received from American popular culture: It was Bret Michaels, his hair, (lots of) fake breasts and the lewdest, most degrading behavior we've seen yet on the three-seasons-running marathon of debasement we like to call Rock of Love. And this season, they're taking it on the road resulting in the clumsily titled "Rock of Love Bus."

I don't really know when Rock of Love went from being good cheesy fun to simply distressing, but I do know it happened well before one woman took a shot out of another woman's hoo-ha. This season, the blonds are blonder and the boobs are bigger, while the size of the skirts remains very, very small. It's funny to think back on season one when Heather was depicted as the drunk, trashy, stripper lady—she would be the Angelina Jolie of this bunch.

As the women poured drinks on each other, divided themselves into cliques and exposed their bodies for a washed up rock star in what could only be called a parody of mainstream sexuality, I really missed Thailand.

One more complaint. Any time things started to get really gross and creepy, Michaels would inevitably reply: "That's just rock n roll." Someone get that guy a fracking time machine and transport him to 2008, please. No wonder they're confining Rock of Love Bus to Middle America, where there are still plenty of folks who haven't yet realized that yesterday's corset top is today's huge old lady glasses and who learned all they ever needed to know about irony from that Alanis Morisette song.

Good Things I Watch: T-Minus One Week Til LOST

2009-01-13T09:24:00.003-06:00

It's official. In one week we'll begin to find out what happens after this:

Me

2009-01-13T07:58:00.001-06:00

Tokyo: Me Tired

2009-01-12T00:34:00.002-06:00

I'm now well over 24 hours with no sleep (NO SLEEP!) and I'm back in the Tokyo airport after a day spent wandering around the surprising and very charming small city of Narita.

I took in a temple, ate some broiled eel (a local specialty) while men a few feel away from me cut the heads off live ones and cleaned them at the front of the restaurant to bring in customers (it worked; the place had a line down the block) and drank a lot of wonderous green tea.

(Side note: It's coooold in Japan in January--all I had was a sweatshirt and a sarong worn as a scarf.)

Now I just have to survive another flight and two trains. Eek.

Back to Earth, Back to Reality

2009-01-11T02:59:00.004-06:00

Sunset on Ton Sai.

In a couple hours I get on a plane, and then another plane, and then yet another plane. Monday afternoon I'll land in beautiful Newark, NJ.

A weekend on Ton Sai—a little beach area without paved roads or electricity before 6 p.m.—was the perfect way to end my trip. We did some rock climbing, ate som tom by the beach and drank under a full moon.

I'll have more reflections on my time in Thailand (and various other topics) when I get home, so keep reading—especially if you want my thoughts on Friday's big BSG premiere.

Workin For the Weekend

2009-01-08T22:46:00.003-06:00

This weekend (well, in about an hour), we're heading to Ton Sai, a beach close by that is only accessible by boat. It's supposed to be beautiful, and cheap. This is my last weekend in Thailand. (In my head I'm hearing either Green Day's "Time of Your Life" or Sarah McLachlan's "I Will Remember You"—it's like I'm moving out of the Real World house.)

Can You Pass Me a Tissue, Brotha?

2009-01-07T02:14:00.004-06:00

So, the unrivaled Onion AV Club has posted it's list of the best television episodes of 2008. Included was this entry:

Lost, "The Constant"
Was Lost's fourth season its best yet because it finally moved the story forward—while also deepening the mythology and tugging at the heart—or was it the best because it was the shortest, and thus had a higher percentage of memorable moments? Sure, the show's first three seasons had plenty of episodes as good as the absolutely awesome "The Shape Of Things To Come," "Cabin Fever," and "The Economist." But you'd be hard pressed to find many Losts as singularly special as "The Constant," a mind-bending time-travel episode focused on poor, displaced Desmond. While Desmond—who always seems to figure into the best Losts—jumps back and forth between the present and the past, and between potential rescue on a mysterious freighter and his years of military service, "The Constant" drops hints about the time-warping properties of the island and the behind-the-scenes machinations of Charles Widmore. It all concludes in a touching virtual reunion, reminding fans that Lost is more about the journey of its characters than the history of the place they've been stranded.

Which made me go rewatch this:

Tear. Only a couple more weeks left until the return of the emotional roller coaster that is LOST. If they find some way to rip Des and Penny apart, I will murder someone. (Who am I kidding? They already have: Ben swore revenge on Widmore and promised to go after his daughter.)

The whole list is pretty great, including entries from Battlestar Galactica, Mad Men, 30 Rock and the episode of Survivor Micronesia: Fans vs. Favorites when poor ice cream scooper Erik got duped into giving up his immunity idol (after the whole "It's a stick with a face on it" brouhaha).

Prince's, Watch Your Back

2009-01-06T09:44:00.002-06:00

Today I had some of the best fried chicken of my life. I bought it at a street stall in Ao Nang. Here in Thailand, they cut the chicken into smaller pieces so there's more of the good crispy stuff. The smaller pieces also mean shorter cooking time, and, therefore, juicier meat. If I had to guess on the preparation, I'd say long marination process (garlic, chilies, ect.) and a light dusting in rice flour. My little piece of breast came with a small pile of fried red onion (OMFG Good) and sticky rice. That delightful little snack: 20 baht, or about 60 cents. Washed it down with a banana shake: Heaven.

Another Reason Why Thailand is Better Than the U.S.: Food on the Beach

2009-01-05T03:33:00.004-06:00

At the Jersey shore, when we get hungry, we leave the beach, grab a hoagie or a sandwich back at the house, or maybe grab a granola bar out of a sand-filled cooler.

In Thailand, on the beaches near Ao Nang, there are floating kitchens—long tails serving blended fruit shakes, grilled chicken, pad thai, fried rice and Western food for the rubes.

But there are also people walking the beach, toting coolers filled with beer, soda and cold water. There are men carrying baskets on long sticks, grilling corn to order on portable charcoal grills and sprinkling them with sea salt. There are women selling fruit—mostly pineapple cut with such skill into sections that you can eat them like lollipops.

Thailand wins. (Though I could kinda go for a WaWa hoagie right now.)

Addicted to the Pain

2009-01-05T03:05:00.003-06:00

I never thought of myself as a masochist, but there's really no other explanation for my continued flagellation at the feet of som tom.

Ah som tom: cold, hot, sour, sweet. Here are the things I'm sure are in it: shredded green papaya, tomatoes, raw garlic, lime, nam pla, peanuts, green beans and, of course, the chilies. These ingredients are combined in sweet matrimony with a mortar and pestle and then eaten with handfuls of sticky rice (it's for the burning). The result is a combustible miracle of tart lime, cool vegetables, earthy peanuts and heat, lots of heat.

We've been eating it a lot—brought home in plastic bags from the night market, eaten alongside grilled chicken from a stall by the river in the middle of the day, or, well, pretty much whenever its available.

Today, I was in Ao Nang (a small beach town that serves as a launching pad for many of the better beaches near Krabi) and decided on a snack. I went to a street food vendor and ordered som tom. The woman seemed a bit peeved—it's labor intensive—but after cracking a few jokes about me in Thai with her coworkers who were peeling and deviening shrimp on the curb, she got over it. She held up a small red pepper. I replied, "Not too spicy." She held up the universal sign for "a little bit"—forefinger and thumb held close together—and cut the pepper in half.

When she brought me the plate I thought I was going easy on myself—hey, maybe it wouldn't be spicy enough!—but then I took the first bite. And started sweating. Then my nose started the inevitable drip, drip, drip. (Sulli has told me that her Thai co-teachers always laugh at her runny nose; the woman in Ao Nang laughed too.)

After the heat (finally) fades, all that's left is the hum of garlic, and the desire for more.

(For you Nashvillians, Siam Cafe on Nolensville makes a decent version.)

Mine Eyes Have Seen: Beaches, Cities and (lots of) Food

2009-01-04T07:28:00.001-06:00

Some pictures from my travels. Enjoy.

BSG OMG: He Kissed a Boy

2009-01-04T06:00:00.003-06:00

I spent part of my morning today catching up on Battlestar Galactica webisodes in anticipation of the big return on Jan. 16. (My first Friday back in Nashville. It's kismet.)

Gaeta totally MO'ed with a dude. Guess all the speculation about what Lt. Felix gets up to in that Melrose Place-style swingtown they call barracks wasn't so off base (though he does play a smidge of tonsil hockey with a pesky 8 later in the 10 'sode arc).

Shower Cap Poetry

2009-01-04T05:56:00.002-06:00

From my hotel in Bangkok:

"I can take to the skies. I can soar like a bird. With his heart full of song. Won't you color my eyes. I've been waiting so long."

From the Diary of a Mad Jewish Woman

2009-01-04T01:12:00.012-06:00

From the upcoming film The Road.

Adapted from a journal entry:

Between The Road, Sirens of Baghdad (a complex novel about the genesis of an insurgent in Iraq that I finished two days ago) and the quagmire in Gaza, it's hard not to be thinking about the end. The Big End. The Big A.

So I've spent a strange amount of time recently mulling over the apocalypse. Nuclear war. It can seem oddly inevitable in these new, dark times. I've also been listening to a lot of Mountain Goats—and somehow John Darnielle seems like the person I'd want singing me to the bitter end (preferably with the grim dread of "Dilaudid" or the magical huff of "If You See the Light").

Yet there are still so many redemptive things left to experience in this world: Thai food—chilies and lime and the slither of noodles tossed with oil—or hot, sweet tea with milk at a street stall as rain pours into the streets of Penang. And there are books like The Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. A Miracle. A work so nuanced and majestic that it makes you rethink the worthiness of the human mind.

I forgive Chabon for the cruelty of the novel's long separations—maybe even the soul crushing tragedy of Thomas, sent to the bottom of the ocean—because he offers reunion, catharsis, and the story's own story of angst and redemption: the dissolved Golem of Prague, reanimated with paper and ink.

Does This Look Like A Doug That Misses His Mommy?

2009-01-03T09:59:00.002-06:00

Or does this look like a Doug being held hostage against his will?

You decide.

Tonight We Ate...

2009-01-03T09:52:00.003-06:00

- Barbecue pork salad with coconut tips, chili and lime.
- Fried shrimp cakes with prawn paste.
- Stir-fried sea bass with chilies, garlic and these crazy little green peppercorns, still on the stem.

Deelightful: I was breathing fire.

The House Was Built Too Small!!

2009-01-03T05:19:00.003-06:00

Today we arrived back in Krabi Town after almost a week on Koh Lanta.

Yesterday, I got an email through the PA Campaign for Change listserv about an apartment for rent in DC for inauguration. 800 bucks per night for a 450 sq. foot studio apartment. Nutso.

Last Night...

2008-12-31T04:07:00.002-06:00

I woke up to a rustling in our Bungalow. After lying awake for a good long while, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the large animal scratching and clawing above my head, my companions stirred.

I couldn't help myself: "There's something in here," I whispered.

Then we all sat listening, until Sulli was brave enough to call for the light. We put pillows over our heads (in case it was startled and lost its grip), flipped the switch and dared each other to take a peak.

Turns out it was on the roof.

Read Em and Weep

2008-12-31T03:55:00.004-06:00

I've been doing a lot of reading on this trip, mostly due to lengthy travel times and so much time spent on the beach. I finished Michael Pollan's excellent In Defense of Food on the airplane. I then tackled The Echomaker by Richard Powers--the tale of a young man who suffers a brain injury and the onset of Capgras Syndrome, a disorder that causes him to believe those closest to him (his sister, his dog) are highly accurate impostors. Then I delved into The Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. I read Michael Chabon's latest, The Yiddish Policeman's Union, a couple months ago and loved it. So Jewy. This one was a bit less so but still touched on many of my late father's favorite themes: Jews, Brooklyn, The Holocaust, Talmud, Midrash, Yiddish, Jews. The novel was astounding, and left me endlessly in awe of Chabon's God-like imagination.

I didn't expect to finish the 650 page tome so quickly, so I was left book-less in Lanta. Yesterday, picked up a copy of Cormac McCarthy's The Road at a local coffee shop. I finished it this afternoon. What am I to do now?

Live from Koh Lanta, Thailand

2008-12-28T22:34:00.000-06:00

Frank Rich is the man. Great headline.

Take That, Eli

2008-12-26T22:10:00.002-06:00

My brother says I've been blogging too much about food. He can suck it.

Last night we went to a local seafood restaurant that had been recommended by an Australian woman who lives here full-time. She said the place surpasses its competitors (and stays cheap) by employing it's own fleet of boats daily.

At the entrance were piles of fresh fish, prawns, squid, clams and rays. You pick what you want, and they cook it for you. We started off with chicken satay and then enjoyed grilled squid in "local sauce," a mild and tasty curry with carrots and red onion, and a whole grilled local tuna with a kick-ass garlic rub. The fish also came with a fresh chili sauce dotted with tomatoes and onion that was spicy enough to hurt people.

Overall, it was one of our best meals to date.

Malay Cats Have Strange Tails

2008-12-26T21:52:00.005-06:00

There are lots of cats wandering around the island of Langkawi (and Malaysia in general). It's awesome. Many have shorter than normal tails with kinks or other strange mutations. I found this curious, so here is more information than you ever wanted to know about strange cat tails. An excerpt:

In 1783, Willian Marsden, Fellow of the Royal Society and late Secretary to the President and Council of Fort Marlborough wrote in "The History of Sumatra" of the Malay Cat: "All their tails imperfect and knobbed at the end." In 'The Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication", Darwin wrote "throughout an immense area, namely, the Malayan Archipelago, Siam, Pequan, and Burmah, all the cats have truncated tails about half the proper length, often with a sort of knob at the end. […] The Madagascar cat is said to have a twisted tail." Another writer and traveller, Mivart, had corroborated the statement regarding the Malay cat, of which he said the tail "is only half the ordinary length, and often contorted into a sort of knot, so that it cannot be straightened […] Its contortion is due to deformity of the bones of the tail". Joseph Train had also mentioned th Malayan cats, comparing them with the Manx: "The Manks rumpy resembles some what in appearance the cats said by Sir Stamford Raffles to be peculiar to the Malayan Archipelago." Sir Stamford Raffles' name is closely associated with Singapore.

Also, most of them are quite lean. Doug wouldn't fit in.

Langkawi: Lots O Muslims, and Other Folks

2008-12-26T05:03:00.003-06:00

It is very interesting to be in a place that is so heavily Muslim. Today, we went "Island Hopping"--a very popular activity here in Langkawi, which is surrounded by 99 islands--and the other four people in our boat were comprised of two couples. The women were in full head-to-to clothing and head scarves, even on the scorching beaches. We felt a little sheepish in our Western wares.

At one of the stops (there were more monkeys there!) we walked to a freshwater lake and the diversity of the populace was truly astounding. There was a Japanese family--the men in the all-too-common wiener-bikiner--doing cannon balls into the water. There were young Australian Muslim women in head-to-toe (and neck and head) swimming costumes frolicking and squeeling as only young women can. And there was every other breed of Aussie, Indian and Malay.

We, as the Americans, we the outliers.

Prawns the Size of Kittens; and Other Observations

2008-12-25T00:32:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, we arrived in Langkawi via ferry. We immediately took a cab to Pedang Cenang, the section of beach popular with backpackers and other budget hunters. We hit the streets looking for a place to stay, but a bunch of the guest houses were booked solid. We eventually got lucky at a motel made up of small bungalows. We're across the street from the beach and we've got our own little porch.

You can imagine our surprise then when we headed down to the beach and it was sparse: a couple of euro men in wiener-bikiners, some gorgeous Italian women tanning to a crisp and some elderly Australian couples napping in the shade of some palm trees. With the whole town booked up, where was everyone?

Well, I got my answer when I went down at sunset and the place was hopping. Most Malaysians are Muslim (which became even more pronounced once we left the diversity of Penang). They're also smart enough to stay inside during the hottest part of the day. It wasn't till the temperatures cooled that families flooded the beach. Boys scampered around causing mischief, banana boats dotted the horizon and women in head-to-toe cover went swimming fully clothed.

For dinner, we walked down the town's main strip until we happened upon a large seafood restaurant bustling with families and couples of every stripe. The place was packed out, so we knew it would be good. We ended up splurging on a spectacular meal of tiger prawns (the size of kittens) with fried garlic and chili sauce, whole fish steamed with ginger and asparagus with garlic. We washed it all down with ice cold draft beer.

Things We Ate

2008-12-24T01:15:00.003-06:00

Over the course of lunch and dinner at various hawker stalls around Georgetown, Penang:

Vegetable Dumplings (one with green stuff inside; one with radish (?) and carrot)
Curry Mee (noodles in red broth with solidified pigs blood, tofu, bean sprouts and the ubiquitous Malay chili sauce, sambal)
Pork Dumplings and Shrimp Dumplings with brown prawn sauce and sweet chili sauce
Stir-fried Rice Noodles (tossed with cockles, slivers of cured pork, shrimp, bean sprouts, scallion and a hint of chili)
Chicken Satay with Peanut Sauce (so simple, but maybe the best item of the day)
Egg Noodles in Gravy with shredded chicken and vegetables
Shaved Ice topped with ice cream, condensed milk, pink syrup, slivers of jelly, corn and black beans (amazingly delicious; except the black beans)

We closed out the evening at a tea shop in China Town near our hotel, watching the rain pour down. Quite the day.

Penang=Awesome

2008-12-22T21:19:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, we took an all-day bus across the border and entered Malaysia. We're staying on the Island of Palau Penang, in Georgetown's China Town to be more specific. Penang features a blend of Chinese, Malay and Indian culture and is one of the world's most famous food meccas, a "gastonomical eden." Last night we ate in Little India, a maze of narrow streets with men making nan on the sidewalks. We ordered grilled chicken marinated in yogurt, raita, plenty of bread and the best samosas I've ever had (crunchy crust, whole peas and strings of fresh herbs in the center with a surprising heat).

On our walk home, we stopped at a tiny bar to enjoy a couple Tiger beers and I waged a losing battle with a wooden puzzle game presented to me by the proprietor (along with a rousing game of Connect Four; I lost every time).

I'm surprised by how much I love this city. The low-flung density reminds me of Europe, or the best parts of New York or San Francisco. The melting pot of cultures is astounding. It's a place that feels all at once foreign and familair; plus everyone speaks English.

Today: More food. And tomorrow, we're taking a boat to Langkawi, a beach island.

The Beach, Sans Leo

2008-12-21T09:19:00.002-06:00

OK, I ripped that photo off the internet, but it shows exactly what the beach we visited today looked like—dazzling limestone cliffs, dense foliage and clear blue waters. We had to take a boat (a long tail) to get there, and I spent more than half the day just relaxing in the water and giggling like a school girl. There were even little boat snack bars—perfect for glorious fruit shakes and grilled corn with lime and sea salt. Think The Beach without the drug runners and sharks (I hope).

We've been doing a lot more exciting eating—pad thai from a hole in the wall near Sulli's place, curry and pomelo (a less bitter variety of citrus similar to grapefruit) with chili and salt from the night market—and tomorrow we're heading to Panang, Malaysia, a place world famous for its melting pot of cuisines.

No Indonesia ($$$), instead we'll be spending a week or so in Malaysia, splitting time between Panang and the island of Langkawi. Then it's back up to Thailand for New Years in the islands.

My computer is staying in Krabi, but I'll be making an effort at semi-regular updates. Laksa: Get ready to be eaten by me.

Today...

2008-12-20T08:08:00.001-06:00

Sulli got attacked by a monkey. It jumped on her back and tried to steal her camera. It was nutso.

Rick Warren. Really?!?!

2008-12-19T20:30:00.003-06:00

I, like many other Obama supporters, am livid about the whole Rick Warren dustup. I've read some pretty articulate arguments about why I shouldn't be so angry (like Andrew Sullivan's over at the Daily Dish), but I'm not buying it.

Not only does this guy guy hold hostile views towards gays and lesbians, compare abortion to The Holocaust, support abstience-only projects in Africa, ect., but he doesn't believe in evolution. Aren't we tired yet of giving these mutants a platform for their destructive ideology? Here's a great take on why this decision sucks. (via Glenn Greenwald at Salon).

Side Note: Doesn't Obama ever hold a grudge?! This dude ambushed him at that Saddleback forum in August. Cone of Silence my ass.

The Thing I'll Miss Most on this Trip (Besides Doug)

2008-12-19T20:06:00.003-06:00

Summer Heights High on HBO. I can't wait to hit up that On Demand when I return. Puck you, miss!

There are also premieres of BSG and LOST to look forward to in the weeks immediately following my return.

But for now, all I have to get excited about is a Monday trip to Indonesia, via Malaysia. Not too shabby.

Thai Food: Yeah, It's Really Good

2008-12-18T21:54:00.003-06:00

So, I've now done a little bit of eating. And I look forward to much, much more.

Last night, Sulli and I went to a little open-air restaurant with wooden tables and benches. I got my first authentic taste of my stateside favorite, the downright miraculous som tom—raw shredded papaya tossed with chili, fish sauce, lime and peanuts. Over here, it also features more of those little dried shrimp; these ones were a little less funky but still salty and mildly crunchy. We also ordered sticky rice and some grilled chicken that came on the bone, with sweet chili sauce for dipping. The chicken was crazy moist, with a mix of tender light and dark meat.

This morning, I wandered around by my lonesome while Sulli finished her last day of school. I didn't go too far—I was a bit nervous about getting lost. But I did manage to wander around the morning market and catch an eyeful of miraculous fruits, three-foot-long green beans and loads and loads of fresh fish (not the best smelling place in the world).

Then I stopped for some street food on the way home—chicken over rice with a black pepper sauce. It was simple, but beautiful—especially with a drizzle of tangy chili sauce over the top. Total cost: Less than $1 USD.

Thanks Jack: The Wonders of Caruso

2008-12-18T07:56:00.001-06:00

Joke? Yes or no?!

Out of Touch

2008-12-18T07:49:00.003-06:00

I left my cell phone in Philadelphia. Even with the Internet—and the blogging—I still feel a bit like I’m living off the grid. It’s liberating, but also makes things a bit more complex.

My friend and I actually had to make plans to meet when I got into Krabi. No “call you when I get there” business. We conversed via email in the morning, and she said she wouldn’t be able to leave school early to meet me at the airport. Instead I was supposed to take a bus into town and dawdle at a café until she arrived.

But as I was making my way through the airport’s sliding doors, she appeared. We embraced. It was beautiful. She had been able to cut out early after all, and that moment of spontaneous connection would not have been possible without the omnipresent cell phone.

There is one problem: I never know what time it is.

Ruminations from the Road

2008-12-18T07:44:00.003-06:00

Some Notes From My Journal Recorded During My Various Flights:

- Will I ever be again be able to think of Alaska without thinking of Sarah Palin?
- What does it say about me that I was devastated Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Two wasn’t an option on this flight.
- Is CSI Miami a joke? No, really.
- I walked off the plane in a rainy, fog-drenched Tokyo and was overwhelmed by the power of our modern age. The 14-hour flight might have gone a bit faster if I had managed to sleep more than 10 minutes, but it still feels like a miracle to traverse the entire United States and the breadth of the Pacific Ocean in less than a day.
- The Tokyo-Narita Airport was pristine and sprawling. It took me almost 20 minutes to walk to my gate. There were lots of vending machines and the bathrooms were beautiful.
- I have an entire row on my flight to Bangkok. Another miracle.
- Back in the Bangkok Airport.
- Just had my first pad thai of the trip; it was delish—filled with lots of tofu and little dried shrimp that tasted like low tide in Stone Harbor, NJ (in a good way).
- There is a very strange family in this cafeteria area. The father has to be an MMA fighter and his kids are roughhousing. I’m pretty sure he could crush me.
- Looking forward to some company.

(Air) Port Authority: Suvarnabhumi Airport

2008-12-17T19:03:00.002-06:00

It was strange to be in Suvarnabhumi Airport last night. The place is huge and beautiful and very modern. Seeing the hordes of people not only coming and going through the airport due to travel, but the incredible amount of Thai people that rely on the country's bustling tourism trade for work, made me realize what a paralyzing event the airport shut-down must have been for the country.

Plus, I get cranky when my flight is delayed 20 minutes, I can not imagine being trapped in an airport for days.

And with all those sex tourists trapped in one confined space, you can bet there was some foot tapping going on (tfj Mike Block).

Dispatch From Bangkok: David Caruso, Really?!

2008-12-17T10:44:00.005-06:00

After a very long trip (including a 14-hour flight to Tokyo in which I didn't sleep a wink), I've arrived safe in Bangkok.

Lee want bed now, but I did have one thought to share with the blogosphere. Due to some surprisingly limited in-flight entertainment, I was forced to watch my first ever episodes of CSI on the "CSI Channel" (even after years of watching Survivor, they were never able to reel me in). There was one each of original, Miami and New York.

I only have one question: Is CSI Miami a joke? No, really.

Tomorrow I get on yet another plane, this one to Krabi in Southern Thailand.

Beaches and Curry: Lee Goes to Thailand (Doug Stays Behind)

2008-12-15T14:52:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow I am flying to Thailand. I'll be there for 27 days, hopefully blogging up a storm.

I'll also be eating. A lot. And talking about it. A lot. Food and beaches are pretty much tied when it comes to my top motivators for traveling there. (Sulli, you too.)

I'm a pretty big mutant when it comes to my food obsession—apparently some people find my fervor when discussing artisan cheeses slightly creepy—and Thai cooking involves a few of my most favorite things: ginger, garlic, chillies, coconut milk, lime and fresh herbs.

I'll be spending most of my time in the South, on the Western coast, so I think it's a fair assumption that I'll be munching down on scores of seafood and probably get to sample some truly strange stuff. (At least to my conservative Western palette; when it comes to first-hand experience with authentic global cuisine, I might as well be Sarah Palin—with less moose.) I hope to eat at least a few Bourdain-worthy cuts of meat, and live to tell the tale.

This time tomorrow, I'll be over the Pacific.

The Obama Campaign: Why We Won

2008-12-15T14:23:00.004-06:00

(Barack Obama speaks in the rain in Chester. McCain cancelled his rally the same day due to inclement weather. That says is all.)

FYI: I'm unemployed for the good of the country. You're welcome.

In September, I left my job to work full time for the Obama-Biden Campaign. I came to Philly, lived with my brother and worked seven days a week. For most of my tenure, I was working in the Pennsylvania Headquarters, helping out the state policy director with various tasks—copy-editing policy documents, drafting talking points for surrogates and monitoring Internet rumors, smear fliers and robocalls through an email address called Watchdog.

Obviously Barack Obama won this election for lots of reasons—desire for change, force of his intellect and personality, a polarizing campaign by the opposition—but I think a lot of votes were won on the ground, through a philosophy that empowered voters and prized the simple act of listening.

For the last few weeks of the campaign, I was stationed in the downtown Philadelphia field office. Most of my time was still spent helping out with the Policy Department, but I was also there to answer policy questions (after weeks of reading draft after draft of every area of Obama's policy, I had some resources). In general, canvassers and phone bankers kept things simple, but occasionally voters would have more detailed questions. The volunteer would take down their number, and we would call them back. Promptly. I often had long, emotional conversations with individual voters, hearing about a sick child or concerns about "spreading the wealth"—damn you Joe the Plumber!

Health Care was the most common issue, and the one the inspired the most heartbreaking stories. A lot of people just wanted to be heard; they wanted to be told that the way they had been treated had been unjust (it was). So I would listen. I think that is a special way to run a campaign.

The Watchdog@paforchange.com email address was another tool of voter empowerment. The outlandish robocalls and mailers being disseminated by the PA Republican Party and various Right Wing activist groups blanketed the state. Instead of swallowing onslaught of misinformation and hateful language, supporters could send them to us. One man in Pittsburgh became our robocall guru—recording mp3's off his answering machine and being the first to notify the campaign of several controversial calls. He would also include the occasional zinger.

Made possible through technology (and the sheer manpower of the campaign), these tactics created a community, a village of supporters. And all of us helped to keep Pennsylvania blue.

No Wonder I'm Allergic to Kiwis: Eagle vs. Shark Made Me Angry

2008-12-15T13:39:00.005-06:00

I guess unemployment leads to a lot of movie watching. I watched two more movies over the weekend (and saw another in the theater—Synecdoche, New York). One I had seen before (Two Days in Paris) and might have been even more excellent the second time around. And one I stumbled upon randomly on one of the myriad premium channels I don't get at my house (Eagle vs. Shark) and it made me angry.

In some ways, EvS is a classic quirky indie meet-cute comedy. But in other ways, it's about how lonely people will put up with anything, anything, from the person they've decided to love. Lily, our doe-eyed protagonist, is quietly pretty, endlessly kind and seems to get along with almost anyone. The object of her affection, Jarrod, is self-serious, depressed and endlessly mean and dismissive. But, who cares, they both like video games and crafting! This movie was the equivalent of a beer commercial fantasy for dudes who read Kotaku and like Moldy Peaches: No matter how insensitive and oblivious you are, some wonderful girl will devote herself to loving you.

After the denouement of Jarrod's nerd revenge subplot—spoiler alert: he beats up on a paraplegic with a set of nun chucks—he runs from Lily, and she chases. Are we supposed to be rooting for these two to end up together? So she can live life with a volatile, solipsistic, joyless man? For all you mutants out there who found these two to be the perfect pair, I hope you liked the ending.

(This movie does get bonus points for the beautiful New Zealand scenery and the oddly touching apple animation.)

What Do You Think Doug is Doing Right Now?

2008-12-13T12:26:00.002-06:00

While I'm away from home, this is my favorite game.

a) Sleeping on the arm of the couch.
b) Sleeping on the middle of the couch.
c) Sleeping on the bed.
d) Eating.
e) Creepily kneading his favorite blanket.
f) Licking, loudly.
g) Running around for no reason whatsoever.
h) Flopping on the floor like a seal.
i) None of the above.

Check the Hair: Blagojevich is Unbelievable

2008-12-13T11:47:00.003-06:00

Three days until I take this whole unemployed vagabond thing to a whole new level. Thailand here I come.

But for now, what I'm really fascinated by is the stupidest man in Illinois—and how he somehow managed to be elected governor.

I find that I'm constantly talking about believability. During a private viewing of The Jane Austen Book Club (bad, bad, bad movie), the factor that made me most incredulous—and there were many—was the lack of believability. Why would that super hot young guy be chasing an admittedly beautiful older woman who is intensely rude and ignorant of his feelings? Why are we supposed to be rooting for the curly-haired one to get back together with her philandering husband who broke things off with her in the coldest, most arrogant way possible? (Also, why do sad, curly haired women in movies so often show their happiness and rejuvenation by straightening their hair?) Why is the uptight prude lusting after her high school student and having clandestine meetings with him, in broad daylight, in the high school parking lot?!

OK, point made, deep breath.

But then something like this political scandal comes along and I realize that people often act in insane, unbelievable ways. If I sat through a movie about Blagojevich I would think it was a satire—a clumsy, heavy-handed satire. The delusional politician wheeling and dealing for good ole fashioned money and power; the guy is a caricature.