eats and drinks

Eating in Southeast Asia: The Most Memorable Foods I Tried

by Ekua on May 16, 2013 · 5 comments in Cambodia,eats and drinks,Laos,Thailand,Vietnam

I don’t think there was one aha! moment where I transformed from a picky eater to a more open one, but travel certainly expedited the transition. Over time, I found that new worlds opened up to me when I tried unfamiliar foods and that food was often an entryway into the history and psyche of a place.

Southeast Asia came at the right time in my food awakening and my newfound appreciation for Southeast Asian cuisine played a role in picking it as a destination. While I looped my way around the region, I didn’t strive to be Andrew Zimmern, but I made a concerted effort to be more adventurous with my meals. Of course, I could never get enough pad thai, but the foods that lingered on my taste buds long after my trip was over were the ones with new and unfamiliar flavors:

Durian and Assorted Fruit

I tried durian on my second night in Bangkok. After all the stories I’d heard about it, I didn’t think it was bad at all. It didn’t smell foul and it had a nutty and buttery flavor. It seems that Thai people prefer to eat their durian at a less ripe stage, so perhaps the one I tried was milder and less offensive. But I think durian is like cilantro— some people think it tastes repulsive like soap and others can’t imagine life without it. Beyond durian, any time I ordered a side of unspecified fruit, it was an adventure. Some of the new fruits I tried included longan, rambutan, sapodilla, and dragon fruit.

Amok in Siem Reap, Cambodia

Amok is fish mousse and that may not sound very appetizing, but it was one of the most delicious things I ate in Southeast Asia. For this dish, fish is mixed with coconut cream and spices and then steamed inside a banana leaf. The end result is a wonderful surprise; it’s delicate, full of flavor, and the coconut adds a wonderful creaminess that pairs well with the fish.

Cambodian BBQ in Siem Reap, Cambodia

The Cambodian BBQ has undertones of gimmickiness, but nevertheless, it’s a great place to sample meats you would not otherwise try. On a menu that also included snake and kangaroo, we chose crocodile and ostrich. As a backup, we also ordered chicken. Uncooked meat was brought to us in containers with a little picture of the animal so we would know what it was. We barbecued the meat ourselves on a dome-shaped contraption that had boiling broth at its base. We added noodles and veggies to the soup along with with the meat to complete our meal. In the end we loved the crocodile which tasted like a combination of chicken and fish and the ostrich which had a flavor akin to beef cooked in red wine. The chicken ended up being everyone’s least favorite because it tasted so boring compared to the other two.

Cao Lau in Hoi An

On my first day in Hoi An, I noticed that the menus had a few dishes I hadn’t seen in Southern Vietnam. I decided to try cao lau, a local specialty. It’s a noodle soup with a five spice flavored broth, pork, and greens and it’s topped off with bits of crispy fried dough. In Vietnam, I’d felt that flavors were muted and the eater was often expected to add his or her own spice, but this was flavorful and thoroughly enjoyable without having to dump a lot of chili sauce in it. Much of Hoi An’s unique vibe comes from its history as trading port, and the amalgamation of cultural influences in this soup make it a fitting dish for the city.

Lao Coffee in Luang Prabang, Laos

By the time I arrived in Laos, I had accepted the fact that I’d most likely find a pool of sweetened condensed milk at the bottom of my coffee as long as I was in Southeast Asia. But Laos was where I finally learned to enjoy it. In Laos, the coffee itself tasted different, it was thick and rustic. It made sense in the setting and Lao coffee kind of charms people in the same way that Laos does. Some of my fondest memories in Luang Prabang are of sitting on the sidewalk, drinking Lao coffee from a little glass cup, and chatting with locals and fellow travelers.

Khao Soi in Chang Mai, Thailand

When I arrived at a street food plaza in Chiang Mai, I was hungry and didn’t know what anything was, so I just pointed at a random dish on the menu. What I got turned out to be one of the top meals of my life. It took a lot of Googling when I got home to figure out what it was, but eventually I learned that it was called khao soi, a dish that is rarely on the menu at Thai restaurants in the States. It’s a noodle soup with a coconut curry broth and my bowl that night was served with shrimp and just the right amount of spice. Years later, I can still picture myself smiling widely as I slurped down that delicious soup at the night market.

Thai Wonton Soup in Chiang Mai and Bangkok, Thailand

I’ve had wonton soup countless times at Chinese restaurants, but I was blown away by the Thai version. I tried it at street food stalls in both Chiang Mai and Bangkok and couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was different about the broth, but it was very, very tasty.

Non-profit restaurants run by local youth

Throughout Southeast Asia, there are several inviting restaurants that are operated by non-profit organizations which train and employ underserved youth or benefit the local community in some way. I enjoyed fresh salads, curries, my very first bahn mi sandwich, and many more tasty meals at these spots:

- Romdeng in Phnom Pehn, Cambodia
- Friends in Phnom Pehn, Cambodia
- Sozo in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
- Baguette & Chocolat in Hanoi, Vietnam
- Organic Farm Cafe in Vang Vieng, Laos

 

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A Namibian New Year

by Ekua on December 30, 2012 · 4 comments in eats and drinks,Namibia

Your time in Namibia is coming to an end. The year is coming to an end. So when you’re offered a glass of champagne as you head into a New Year’s Eve dinner in the capital city of Windhoek, you take it and raise it to two weeks of exploring one of the most fascinating places on the planet. You take a sip to commemorate a year brimming with meaningful travel experiences around the world.

In the dining room, you find the mother of all buffets. After having gotten used to a choice of beef or eland for dinner and day after day of pretty much the same food, you now have options for days and you’re not sure where to begin. A cook wants to know if you’d like some oysters. Yes, you would.

Oysters in Windhoek, Namibia

As you eat, the table fills up with a unique cast of characters from Angola, from Portugal, from South Africa. Most have an unusual story about how they ended up at this table on this day.

After perhaps a little too much seafood and wine, you take a quick break from the festivities. Then you head up to the roof for one last indulgence, fireworks and power pop music. The winds pick up right before 12am as if to signify that change is imminent. And then the fireworks explode after you countdown to midnight and everyone sings along to the DJ’s pop tunes, boisterously off-key, giddy with New Year glee.

(2012 New Year’s Fireworks in Namibia)

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!Nara Melon: The Essential Fruit of Namibia’s Topnaar People

by Ekua on December 12, 2012 · 3 comments in eats and drinks,Namibia,race/culture/identity

One of the first things people notice about Namibia is how clean and orderly it can look compared to other developing countries. But if you go far enough in certain directions, you’ll see people living in extreme conditions that belie the seeming prosperity. On paper, Namibia is an upper-middle income country, but the reality is that the riches don’t trickle down and its income disparity is among the highest in the world.

In the desert, we’d pass through tiny remote villages with houses made of scrap metal where people lived in the kind of limbo that’s played out all over the global south: having one foot barely reaching the edge of the modern world and the other in a more earth-grounded world of the past, with no way to fully get to one side or the other. Their original way of life has been significantly stripped down or wiped out, yet there is little opportunity to advance in the “modern” world.

In these Namibian villages where it appeared that the only option was subsistence living, I wondered what people survived on in the harsh desert environment.

On our day in Sossusvlei, I spotted a plant that has been essential to the survival of a group of native Namibians called the Topnaars, a subsection of the Nama ethnic group.

The land the Topnaars exist on is a tiny fraction of the land they once used before the colonists arrived. And now, because the area they inhabit is part of Namib-Naukluft National Park, they are no longer allowed to hunt on it. How ironic is it that a way of life that once worked in harmony with the environment has been further shut down in order to protect the environment?

!Nara Melon in Namibia

Now this thorny plant is the main thing that keeps them going. It’s called the !nara plant (in languages that use tongue clicking, the exclamation point denotes a click) and various parts of the melon it produces are prepared and eaten in many ways by the Topnaar. The seeds are roasted, the pulp is mashed to make a porridge, the oil is extracted from it, and more.

While it’s incredible that this one plant can provide a wealth of nutrients for an impoverished group of people, the fact that it cannot be cultivated means that it can still be an unreliable source of food or income. And decreasing groundwater levels have begun to impact its availability in the areas near Swakopmund and Walvis Bay. But for now, it continues to keep the Topnaar going, surviving if not thriving.

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