Travel to Live. Live to Travel

In some ways, we wished we had more time in Marrakesh…but on the other hand, we were pretty happy to leave–it’s not that Marrakesh is a problem, but I think we were just weary from Fez and from a series of events which made us distrustful. On the first day, our driver (who was very nice) got in a heated argument with a local Marrakeshi and as he showed us to our riad, he warned us not to trust “anyone here.” Later, our guide proved to be a bit sexist and made constant sexist jokes, which I have learned to just ignore and plaster a false smile. Then later, at the food stalls we watched two young Spanish girls being ripped off by the waiters. They fought and fought, and finally got their money back. When the waiters tried to pull that shit on us, we flat out refused and they gave us our money back.

There’s a big culture of tipping here (well, in Fez and Marrakesh at least), which I’m not sure is indigenous or learned from the tourists–but what is expected is far more than I even tip in the U.S. And sometimes when you do tip, you’re given a withering look or a, “that’s all, my friend?”

Needless to say, by dinner the next night we just wanted to hide in our riad and not leave. =P Luckily, we had a cooking class and a spa so much of the day was filled with activities (which will be written about in another entry), but for dinner we didn’t want to chance it with the unknown restaurants that charge $10 for a bad sandwich or bland pizza or bland tajine.

Our last dinner in Marrakesh? KFC. And you know what? It was more delicious and cheaper than the crappy food stalls that tried to scam us. Oh…and the KFC had guards at the doors! ;P

Today was our first day real day in Morocco–despite our best attempts, we missed breakfast on the terrace. The riad we’re staying at is even more lovely during the day, and the owners Alexandre and Yasmin have been fantastic so far.

We decided to go for a bit of a wander around–a walk that couldn’t have been more than 1km seriously took almost two hours. There’s so many turns and places to get lost, so many people who run up to you to give you directions, say hi, or try to have you buy their goods. It’s an assault on the senses, in a good way. I remember feeling this way when I first went to Japan, “wow, it REALLY IS exactly like it is in the movies…” (back then, it was “in the anime/manga, though.”) We’re in the old city of Fez (9th century!) and it while there are stalls selling cellphones and our beloved happy cow cheese, it feels like we’ve stepped back through time.

Hugh navigating the medina

We’re in a Muslim country, so we’re trying to be respectful–at one point, after a long slog, Hugh put a candy in his mouth and some young men shouted at us, “Stop! It is haram! Forbidden!” and died laughing when they saw our look of embarassment and shock. There are cafes open to tourists, even during Ramadan. It felt very embarassing to be eating food in front of people fasting all day, so we will probably try and avoid that again, even if it isn’t expected of us to fast. We’ll at least try and eat away from street view.

After getting lost in the medina for 4 hours, we went back to the riad and relaxed and then had dinner on the terrace which was delicious (as was lunch.)

Fez at night

Chick on a stick...not actually very tasty.

While in the Philippines, my cousins and uncles have been trying endlessly to gross out Hugh with “exotic” Filipino food. I think this is a pretty common practice around the world, where rather than be embarassed about some local delicacies, most people consider Americans (and its usually Americans who are so grossed out by foreign delicacies) to just have boring diets. And honestly–with our health, who are we to be grossed out by what people eat? I’ve come to consider the giant bowls of fat they serve at restaurants back home to be pretty foul.

However, Hugh’s a pretty adventurous eater so he always ends up grossing people out in their attempts. In Japan we/he sampled such delicacies as: bees, sake with a dead snake coiled in it, raw horse meat, not to mention many of the more normal things like seaweeds and shellfish that some people would find repulsive. In Laos, we tried silkworms and water buffalo. I’ve had turtle-shell jelly in China and Taco Bell in America. It isn’t about trying to gross each other out, or be adventurous or anything. There are certain things we won’t do–I won’t eat anything killed before my eyes (like the snakes and their beating hearts in Vietnam) which are often done just to be grotesque for tourists and not because the majority of the population eats it. But we figure that if people in a culture eat this sort of food, then it’s certainly worth trying. At worst, just don’t eat it again. It PROBABLY won’t kill you. We rolled our eyes at tourists in Laos who would go on and on about how horrible it was that Laotians ate certain things (civet cats, random wildlife, birds), never realizing that certainly certain groups of people think the Western diet of beef is possibly horrible, or that Laotians are poor and hunting game in the forest isn’t about sport, but about survival.

Food is all very cultural anyways. I never grew up on fancy cheese (many Asians don’t) and as a result, I often find the cheeses that my European friends love smell and taste like vomit, or worse. I mean really, do you know WHY blue cheese has blue flecks in it? My point is–blood pudding or dog meat or whatever. Food is food.

Saddam Hussein pizza?!

In the Philippines there are delicacies such as dinaguan, a stew made of pigs’ blood, which isn’t really that strange to some cultures who eat blood puddings or marrow, but most infamous with non-Filipinos is balut, which is chicken embryo.

Somehow though, Hugh managed to finally put my family’s taunts to rest when he ate a day-old chick which are served whole on a stick and meant to be eaten as such–bones, innards, head, feet and all. My uncle who will eat balut seemed positively disgusted by the fact we ate it, though you could joke and call it overripe balut. My cousin Jean made him do it and he heroically did so, announcing “tastes yolky!” as he did so.

I love Bangkok. I know a lot of tourists dislike it, and I often heard people on the tourist trail exchanging stories and saying how much they disliked it–but I think if people would take the time to step out of Khao San (the backpacker ghetto) or Patpong (the girlie show ghetto) then they might find a really vibrant city full of entertainment options, extremely good value accomodation, high quality food from all over the world, and excellent shopping.

For Christmas Eve, I met up with a Thai friend of mine who I met in Japan. She took us down to a local street food market full of delicious food that of course, isn’t listed in any guidebooks. We sat on the street and they ordered a massive feast of food, that of course is actually authentically flavored since its made for Thais. I think pretty much every meal in a foreign country is vastly improved by having a local do the ordering.

As strange as some people may find it, we were excited to be in Bangkok and to be wandering the streets and shopping and just enjoying city life. Our next stop is the Philippines for a month, but seeing as we will be with family I think this may be the end of our “backpacking” trip. In fact, Hugh and I splurged on a suitcase and are far too excited to be filling it with stuff. Amazingly, after 5 months we bought very, very few things on the road so its kind of hard to break that habit. Not that I want to. A little less materialism never hurt anyone.

Anyways, the dinner was pretty untraditional as far as Christmas Eve goes, but I was still really happy to be in a big bright city with good food and good company.

Lemongrass, galangal, spicy wood, and many other things make up the base flavors of Lao food

Hey foodies! This post and photos are for you! In Luang Prabang, we decided to check out the cooking class by Tamarind (a restaurant) which was highly regarded (and turned out to be good).

The class started out with a market tour led by our Lao teacher, Jack. He pointed out various herbs, meats, and sauces used by Laotians (insert whinging by an annoying old Australian couple here about the cleanliness of the market and how awful it is to eat certain meats, waaaah). After that, we were taken to the riverside kitchen to cook.

Something I noticed before is that in Lao, most cooking is down over hot coals. Most people don’t have electricity at home and therefore, no stoves or ovens (remember, electricity only really came to Lao 15 years ago). Cooking is primarily done by grilling, stewing, or steaming. This is also one of the poorest, most isolated countries on earth so, traditionally, food is also very simple. The ingredient list might be quite long, but it’s all stuff that can be picked in your garden (or foraged from the forest/riverbank.)

Steaming sticky rice over coals, the Lao way of cooking

Another important point in Lao cuisine is the fact they use sticky rice to eat. They pull rice out of the steamer, then ball it up into their hands and dip it into different food. Therefore, Lao food tends not to be as soupy/creamy/oily as Thai food. Lao food tastes more “herby,” and what we discovered was that it was flavor overload for basically everyone.

On the menu were several dishes. Orlahm, is a traditional stew in Luang Prabang made with buffalo meat and basically every herb you can think of in huge quantities. It also contained something they call spicy wood, which is…wood. It was pretty weird eating wood, the outside is super bitter and spicy while the inside tastes like peppery chicken. It also makes your mouth feel like you’ve been injected with novacaine. I don’t feel any guilt in saying I’d never eat it again.

Hugh models a wonderfully marinated tilapia

We also made a delicious steamed Tilapia in banana leaves. Once again, the marinade was made up of every herb in existence. But it was really, really nice. A few little alterations and I could definitely add this to my dinner repetoire (the authentic way is a little too flavor country for me.)

Next was the technically difficult to make, stuffed lemongrass. How do you stuff lemongrass, you ask? Well. It was hard. But the results were delicious. Ingredients were minced chicken, lemongrass, every herb in existence (okay, okay–Lao basil, coriander, kaffir lime…oh geez, I don’t know.)

We also made our own spicy Lao dip and laap (a meat salad–I made mine with water buffalo meat). Hugh indulged in the fried worms/catepillars that were offered as a snack. I declined. Nonetheless, I knocked back a shot of lao-lao (aka moonshine) mixed with honey and orange. It still didn’t provide me the courage to eat the grubs though.

All in all, a very good use of the day. You know how they say the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? I always thought that saying had real meaning beyond men being really hungry. =P I believe food is a great way to understand someone, and a culture. Thailand knew this when they sent chefs all over the world to open up Thai restaurants: get people to love your food, and they will love your country (or at least they’ll be up for a visit.)

Grilling stuffed lemongrass while orlahm bubbles on the "stove"

Voila! Stuffed lemongrass and steamed tilapia

Today began as many of our days in Asia have: with a trip to Starbucks.

Now, let me preface this by saying that I have drank Starbucks in America approximately 3 times in my life. However, as any expat will tell you there are certain things that you just sometimes miss. Western food has something about it (fat and cholesterol) that tastes like home to me; so just as my Asian-born friends constantly sought out authentic Chinese food in Los Angeles, we seek the same thing. Except for us it’s so much easier: Authentic America = Fast Food. Whatta world.

Anyways, we were also struck by how kind the people of Taiwan were. At the train station we couldn’t figure out why the turnstile wouldn’t take our tickets. In Japan, we would have had businessmen try and shove their way through, climbing over our baggage and what have you. In Hong Kong, people would have gristled and sighed loudly about our stupidity. However, a young business-type just politely said, “Sir, you need to turn the ticket this way,” while demonstrating the proper way to insert said ticket. Amazing.

We then arrived in Kaohsiung and met up with our friend Kevin (who we know from Japan) who took us to one of the many food-stall nightmarkets, a specialty in Taiwan. I had something called a danbin which is like a wrap with all sorts of random stuff in it. Very tasty. And Hugh got to try pearl milk tea (aka boba aka tapioca) the way it was meant to be drank (since it was invented in Taiwan).

All in all, very good start to our 2 weeks in Taiwan.

I’m currently editing a video of some of our eating adventures, but I thought I’d share a sneak peak.. =)

A mushroom base hotpot, tasty!

Lunch in Yu Bazaar, soup dumplings made with crab roe

Slurp, slurp...

A funny thing about travelers is that they often do things that they would never do back in their own countries.

This is most obvious when it comes to eating. There are many travelers out there who would never dream of eating at a Denny’s or a truck stop, yet when in a foreign country figure these places are more “local” and “authentic.” Why? I suppose because in the third world people are poor, therefore, travelers should eat poorly as well?

I’ve always thought this a bit silly. Afterall, I seek out quality cuisine in America. I look for cute cafes with interesting menus, dive diners with a solid reputation–above all, I look for quality. So, how is a traveler’s experience cheapened when they do the same thing?

Another thing–why is it less authentic and local to eat, say, Italian food in Japan? I assure you, the Japanese eat it at least once a week if not more so. I don’t think any Brit considers themselves less authentically British for loving a good chicken tikka marsala (and some would say, not liking it makes you somehow less British.) Certainly, Italian in Japan isn’t “traditional” fare, but then again neither is a lot of things local, authentic Japanese people eat.

So today, Hugh and I decided to try and be a little “local.” Upon arrival, a local who was helping us set up showed us the closest restaurants and told us they were very good. We were a bit saddened to see they were mostly non-Chinese places, ooh, sooo NOT authentic (right?) She then pointed in a direction of more restaurants but added, “those are for the taxi drivers, please don’t eat there.” Now, if I were one of these stubborn authenticity-seekers then we woulda gone over there, but here comes the rub. WHY? You go to New York and your friend says, “Yeah, avoid those spots–not so good,” would you really go? Why do we travelers act so patronizing to our host countries sometimes? Cheap & bad =/= authentic.

So anyways, unable to take my own good advice, we contemplated eating at the Chinese Hooters for giggles (needless to say at Hooters China the, um, waitresses are a little less hootery…) but we decided to save that for when we were really dying for Western food. For some unknown reason we decided upon a Japanese restaurant that are fairly popular in China it seems. Here’s where the whole bit about travelers doing things they’d never normally do comes to play–we would NEVER eat at one of these places in Japan, a chain restaurant that serves cheap food poorly. Yet we did it in China. Not surprisingly, it was pretty meh. We followed it up by going to a “local” (and dead) ice cream parlor (and not the insanely busy McDonald’s or Haggen Daaz) only to be served ice cream with freezer burn and a mint coffee that tasted like antacid.

For foodies like us, this was depressing.

Am I saying all “local” Chinese places are bad? Of course not, I’ve eaten at some delicious ones so far and found cute cafes and wonderful modern places. Some would say eating at a place that costs more than 50 cents makes it less authentic, but I call those people stupid. From now on, I’ll take my advice. Eat with the locals, even if that means having Italian in Japan.

I returned to America yesterday. The flight was fine minus the otaku who wouldn’t be quiet next to me. The lovely Julie and Caroline picked me up and entertained me. Despite (or maybe because of) not sleeping on the flight properly, I was very aware of just how weird America had struck me. I guess it’s culture shock….? Here’s a small list of the things that had me really weirded out (though to be fair, I am in Chicago so maybe some of this really is just Chicago shock)

- I was surprised at the drivers. I always thought, even while in Japan, that American drivers weren’t as nice as Japanese ones, but I realized that wasn’t the case. For example, we were trying to make a left turn and a man stopped to let us pass since it was a red light. Nice of him.

- Damn, everything is so spread out…and concrete. So is Japan, though (concrete, I mean). But Shimane found ways to stick vegetable patches and rice fields in whatever scrap of land they could find.

- Everyone is so…big. Either in the overweight sense, or just in the big sense. Taller, thicker. I once again felt short and that my breasts were completely inadequate.

- Food portions, good lord. I know I went to Cheesecake Factory, which is just a ridiculous place to go to see food portions for the first time, but seriously. The appetizer salad was bigger than the biggest share-size salad in Japan I’ve ever seen. The glasses were so big I couldn’t hold them in my hand. I felt like a little girl at the dinner table. The food was delicious, but it’s too much flavor for me at the moment so that might take awhile to get used to.

Perhaps I’ll have more things…but at the moment, it’s 6am in Chicago, but my body is crying at me for dinner. Time for leftovers!

Whale Meat Steak..
Originally uploaded by Janelle (Himene).

Minku Kujira…or in English, whale meat.

I’m not a vegetarian. However, I have always been bothered by the Japanese take on whale meat. They constantly claim it’s for scientific research and not primarly for consumption, as you can see in this photo it about $5.00 for about 300g. To put that in perspective, that is LESS than the cost of beef in Japan. Furthermore, this is a typical grocery store in rural Japan–not a fancy food store. I’ve actually had it for school lunch before! They must be killing a lot of whales to sustain that, and we all know that they are and it really isn’t for scientific research.

Yes, yes, I’ve had whale. No, I don’t really feel guilty for it. I don’t know what’s worse, killing the poor thing under the guise of science or me throwing out food when people are starving in the world because of my (hypocritical) moral indignation. I’ll admit it’s delicious, at least if it’s been deep fried (but what ISN’T delicious when deep fried? Okay, okay, the Midwest girl in me is coming out…)

Like I said, I am no vegetarian–and while I say I’m not that into animal rights, I didn’t mean I go kicking puppies or anything. On the contrary, I pay about $5 for six eggs because I make the effort to buy honest-to-god free range eggs (and not ones that claim to be free range and aren’t really.) I’ve made every effort to educate myself on how animals are treated in industrial farms and try and stay away from that.

At the same time, I disagree with notions that we shouldn’t eat whale because they are smart or cute. Sheep are pretty cute. Pigs are quite smart as well. In my head, there’s no hierarchy for which animals we can eat and which we can’t. Harpooning whales isn’t anymore or less horrifying or disgusting that shooting a metal bolt into a cow’s head. I think we should stop deluding ourselves and really understand how we go from cow to red cubes in white styrofoam tray. If finding out that cows get shot in the head disgusts you, then go vegetarian. The less you know about the food that goes into your body, the more dangerous that is. The reason we shouldn’t eat whale is because by most accounts they are endangered, or at the very least, threatened. On a global scale, there are far more deer and rabbits than there are whale.

I also have a problem with the guise of scientific research. Why exactly do they need to kill thousands of minke whales a year? Uh, for science? Unless of course, the scientific research is this: The Thesis Of Whether Or Not Feeding School Children Whale Will Cause Them To Be Lifelong Consumers of Whale

One of the best things about my job is that I have the liberty to create and execute my own events. Two years ago me and an ex-co-worker started (bi-)monthly cooking classes, despite the fact neither of us were particularly excellent cooks.

I just held my 9th cooking class yesterday and it was one of the best yet. We did Thai cooking and I was just really pleased with the outcome. One of the biggest frustrations are the crotchedy housewives who join and complain about everything. Some Japanese women go crazy if you tell them, “cut it however you want,” or “put as much pepper as you like,” for some of them they must know EXACTLY how many milimeters to cut a cucumber or exactly how many teaspoons of pepper goes in…and anyone who cooks knows that it is rarely EVER so precise (except in baking). I’ve hosted classes when a group of women snickered to themselves, “hah, just like an American to be so sloppy,” when I said that it didn’t matter how you cut the carrot as long as the pieces were bite size.

Ah well, cultural differences, right?

Luckily, those sorts of people rarely ever come back, and instead I have a bit of a following of people who come every month to learn new recipes. I love that they’re always so shocked the ingredients mostly come from the local supermarket. But I mean, it takes an outsider sometimes to tell you about the things you never notice. For example, I never noticed the grocery stores in Indianapolis only sell 3 kinds of cheese (mozerella, american, and cheddar) until Hugh (who is used to seeing more in Melbourne) pointed it out. Geez, what is gouda cheese anyways? (Note: I know now, because my little town in Japan only sells 2 kinds of cheese, one which is gouda.)

I’m never going to “internationalize” the whole city, but I am very pleased when I see that I can make a difference on a smaller level.

I’m reading this book called the Omnivore’s Dilemma which discusses how our ways of eating and producing food have changed. Naturally, this made me think about my own relationship with food.

For those who have known me since my teenage years, you’ll know I’ve had a rocky relationship with food. I was absolutely NEVER an anorexic, but I weighed about as much as one, and like an anorexic I disliked eating and was pretty malnourished. It wasn’t a fear of getting fat, it was more that I hated the time wasted eating. Eating was a chore, especially when food itself generally tasted so disgusting. The things that I did eat were absolutely trash. Since I don’t really like Filipino food, my dinners were things like Taco Bell, pizza rolls, instant pizza, TV dinners, etc. which I often didn’t really like the taste of either, I just ate out of convenience.

All of this changed when I moved to Chicago, then later California, and was introduced to a very vast world of different types of food. Friends might think me to be this worldly traveler, but the reality is that I never had Thai food until university, and wouldn’t know real Italian if it fell on me until I moved to Australia. This is when I discovered eating delicious food to be one of life’s great pleasures. I now consider myself fully to be a foodie, a gourmand-in-training, an epicure. I have absolutely no shame in saying I have partaken in a $100 meal. It’s something I do maybe once a year and I don’t consider it expensive considering I save more than than choosing to cook for myself and not eat at McDonald’s. I never liked chain-restaurant food or fast-food in my youth, and you certainly won’t find me there by choice unless I am just really, really being deprived of a comfort food like cheese fries (which I also make myself.)

So now I’m in Japan. What most Americans imagine Japanese food to be is true, but only as true as the image that Americans eat only hotdogs and hamburgers is true. For all the tuna casseroles, quesadillas, roast beef, etc that average Japanese are unaware we eat there’s the konyaku (gelatinous blob), crab guts, and natto (fermented beans) that the Japanese eat. I’m not going to lie to you–living in Japan has actually made me dislike Japanese food in general, with a few exceptions.

However, living in Japan has made me love food in general even more. Living out in the country certainly helps. Seasonal food used to piss me off for the inconvenience, but now I love it. Certain foods (strawberries, corn, etc) are only available certain parts of the year here–but when they are available they taste far more amazing than anything I ever had in America did (my mother shops at Wal-Mart, btw.)

Another thing I’ve grown to appreciate is locally grown food. Lettuce is delicious here, and so are tomatoes, another vegetable I used to hate. I used to think it was quaint that before every school lunch the students would say like, “the corn came from Fukushima-san’s grandmother, and the onions were supplied by Abe-san’s mom,” but now I see it as a great thing. It sustains the community, and it tastes better. Recipes I cooked before in America suddenly taste better here and it’s probably solely because the food is fresher and it’s easy for me to buy organic, or local, or free-range (for real, not just labelled free-range).

I don’t really know if this is better or my health or not, but all I can say is that in America you do not often see many 90-year old people who work on the farm every day or walk several miles up and down hills for fun, but out here it’s pretty damn normal. I’m always struck when an 80-year old grandma can not only out drink a foreign exchange student under the table, she’s in better shape too. It’s pretty embarassing to be schooled by a granny.

I had another enkai last night (for the forgetful: a work office party). This one was particularly good. I was mildly annoyed, however, when one of the section chiefs said to me, “Wow, Himene, you are really genki and fun when you drink.” At this point, I must point out, I had not been heavily drinking. “I’m always like this,” I said sweetly. He argued at work I was very quiet and serious, but then I pointed out the entire office was quiet and serious so I was trying to match the atmosphere. I was kind of offended. I think most people who’ve seen me at parties will attest that if anything I’m pretty obnoxious and bad at controlling the volume of my voice. Am I proud of that? Well, more proud of that than needing alcohol to be “really genki and fun.” There’s a reason I don’t drink very much and it’s served me quite fine, thank you.

Anyway, the restaurant served inaka-ryouri “rural cooking” which meant nothing but wild mountain herbs and vegetables that were boiled. I’m a very adventurous eater–but I still want my food to be good and full of flavor. In the end they brought out soba and tempura and those were ridiculously delicious. I ate way too much in the end and felt pretty ill. After that we went to a snack bar for more drinking and karaoke. Here’s Janelle’s Possible Sexual Harassment (?) Story of the Month ™:

After every song, a little score thing would come up like happens at some karaoke places. Except this time what came up along with the score was a naked picture of a girl covered by 100 little blocks. If you got a high enough score, blocks get uncovered. Now, normally I’d have been cheering in amusement, but there IS something slightly creepy about being with 20 men, all of them your fathers age and having them be “Oh yeah, that’s it! 85%!! Nice one!! Now we get to see her tits!!!” I’m sure that would be a lawsuit in America, but here that’s just the way it is. Ah Japan. I never know if America is too prudish or Japan’s too sexist, but I think a happy medium must line between being too scared to make jokes to colleagues of the opposite sex and talking about your coworker’s breasts to her face.

American food is making me sick…

Literally.

I don’t know what’s wrong, but I can’t seem to eat anything without getting quite ill shortly after. I can’t possibly be getting food poisoned on a daily basis. It’s all food I never had a problem with before. What, I can’t eat a pastrami sandwich with sauerkraut and German potato salad?! I usually blame it on greasy food like pizza or the fast food I’ve been eating lately, but what can I do? My mom’s too busy to cook nowadays, my grandma’s in the hospital, and I can’t cook anything because most of the stuff I know how to make has ingredients I can’t find in Indiana. I live so far from any place I can just walk to buy food to (ah, the suburbs without a car!) So basically, I’m trapped in my suburban and now I’m getting sick from the junk I eat all the time. It’s not like if I had a car it’d be any better. I’ve got every fast food option within a 5 mile radius, usually in multiple forms (3 taco bells, 2 mcdonalds, at leastr 4 Burger Kings in a 5 mile radius) and I’m so sick of fast food the thought is making me ill. Thankfully, I’ve managed to get my parents together for dinner a few times thus far. My mom particularly enjoys it because she uses it as an excuse to go to the best restaurants in downtown Indianapolis (which there are plenty–especially, you LOVE steak like I do.) I had the best filet mignon the other day at this restaurant that’s rated one of the best privately owned steakhouses in America…. too bad I got sick shortly after.

So when I go back to Los Angeles, I’m going to insist on eating at the following places: Curry House, Pink’s, Chano’s, and some other of my favorite LA places.