All you can eat thali

Here it is--a lot of delicious food all on one really big plate.

Tash te nari

When they bring out the tash te nari, it means a good meal is about to follow. 

The English Kitchen

When I saw the sign for "English Kitchen", I wasn't real thrilled with the prospect of English food for lunch.  But it was actually the smell of  Bobby D's BBQ that we followed in to the building. 

Turns out, the English Kitchen is a historical landmark as a building--the food, though, is much changed.

The building has a fascinating old west story of miners, opium, Chinese people and not one bite of English food.
The "English" of English Kitchen referred to the menu, which was in English (instead of Chinese).  It contained a full list of English foods, just as the name promised.  But what was served by the Chinese owner to every patron--no matter what they ordered--was the same chow mein.
Having been in some Asian kitchens with "English" menus, I can absolutely imagine that happening.

Piroshki

A good thing to eat in Seattle?
Piroshki. 

It's true, they are good.
I even caught a glimpse of them making the potato and cheese ones.












After you eat and enjoy them, you can get a t-shirt to show the extent of your enjoyment.

Look for it in Pike Place...the door is green.

Taiwan's food

Since being in Taiwan is so much about the eating, here is a sampling of what you can enjoy eating in Taiwan...

Something in shells.

Tasty frozen yogurt.

Something else in shells.

Pinapples, tomatoes and other fruits.

Waffles and ice cream.

Marvelous desserts.

Sushi.


Hm, I'm hungry...is it lunch time yet?

Squid on a stick

Squid.
On a stick.
Would you like some?

The street food of Taiwan is everywhere--plentious and delicious.  And much of it comes on a stick.
It's a snacker's paradise, for more than just the squid, but you can try that, too.

I was told that eating squid is like eating stale, salty jellybeans.  If that doesn't make it appealing, I don't know what does.

Tanghulu

This is what Little Pear eats.
Tanghulu.

When I found them among the street foods of Taiwan, they were like something from my imagination come to life.

That's because they were immediately recognizable to me as the treat the Chinese boy in one of my favorite books could not resist.
I read the books about Little Pear at least half a dozen times as a child, and another two or three dozen times to all the many children I've read stories to over the years.

Everybody loves Little Pear.
And Little Pear loves his tanghulu.

Masala dosa

The dosa is a huge plate of food, ya?
Sometimes we like to order it for new comers to India--just to shock them when it arrives at the table.
"What?  I have to eat all this?!"  

It's delicious, though.
And inside, there's not so much, see?  Just some potato and spiciness.
Mmmm....

Namkeen

Snacks anyone?

Candy canes

Because it's that time of year and everyone should know where candy canes come from...


A perfectly choreographed process for making 3200 of them at a time.

The short life of a s'more

What's summer without the taste of s'mores?
Chocolate.
Roasted marshmallows.
Unbeatable combination.

Yum.

Broke-down-boat meal

When he knew that our engine was irreparable, Chef One put a lot of effort into preparing our lunch. He knew we would be disappointed with everything that had gone wrong and moving to a new boat.
And he really did himself proud.
The special Kerala feast eaten on a plantain leaf was delicious.
It was pretty, too.

Authenticity

I'd just like to point out that no real "American Hotdog Factory" would associate itself with vegetarian hotdogs.

Just sayin', India...

I'd like a new term

I'm taking a poll.

Perhaps it's because I live in India (where millions of people are vegetarian) among Muslim people for whom pork is not halal, or perhaps it's because I, myself, don't eat meat and have a personal bias, but the term "pig roast" makes me cringe.

I'd like to re-term this food event "pork bbq". Or something. Roasted pork?
But my mom says that pork bbq conjures up thoughts of barbecued pork, like what you would put on a sandwich, something completely different from what will be served at a pig roast (hereafter to be referred to in my post as "pork bbq").

I've attended numerous "pork bbqs". My grandpa used to make homemade roasting pits out of old metal barrels and stand over the hot fire for hours tending the meat. Many summer gatherings revolve around the barbecued pork, and I've been there--hungry, because we have to wait until the meat is done before we can start eating.
I've smelled pork bbqs.
I've smelled like a pork bbq.
I've felt the heat of a pork bbq.
I've watched the heat of a pork bbq melt my grandpa.
I remember how the air of a campground gets filled with pork bbq aroma (odor?).
I have watched the meat roast for the pork bbq.
And yes, I have even tasted pork bbq.
So I feel I am familiar with pork bbq.

I also know that a true "pork bbq" includes other elements that have little to do with pork. It means people, friends, food spread out on a picnic table, warm summer weather, and a good, fun time. That part of a pork bbq I can get into. So if you say "pig roast", people know that it includes not just the meat, but all the rest of the fun.

So here's what my poll is about.
I think it would be fine to change the name of these food events to something else and people would enjoy them just as much as ever.
Maybe you've never thought about the term "pig roast" before, but I find it uncouth, offensive even. I don't know if that's the vegetarian in me speaking or the Asian influence.
What do you think? You might not have given the term any thought prior to this crazy random post, but now you have something to consider.
So think about it and vote in my poll over there to the left.
<---
My mom says I'm silly to think so much about this. You can even vote that you agree with her.

You know, I've now written/said the word "pork" so many times in this post that that one is starting to sound pretty bad, too...
I'd better stop while I'm ahead. :)

Serendipitious orchestration

I just lived through a day orchestrated to bring us to Mexican food--good Mexican food.
Our plan today, my friend and I, was to go to a certain market where there was supposed to be a nice bookstore and a really good (dare-we-hope: authentic) Mexican restaurant. Good Mexican food is a rarity on this side of the world.
We found the bookstore. It was as expected. Not fantastic, but had books.
Now it was time to eat.
We found all the signage for the restaurant we wanted to go to, but where was the entrance?
"Oh that place is finished," said the guard we asked.
"Finished?"
"Finished."
Sad, sad news. No Mexican for lunch.
We found a coffee shop to eat at before we melted and returned to my house.

Meanwhile, my friend's husband was supposed to be leaving on a plane. But the plane's airconditioning was broken and they were sitting out on the tarmac in 104 degrees unable to leave. Several hours later they deplaned all the passengers and moved them to a 5 star hotel in the north of the city.
A 5 star hotel? Hmm. This might be our only opportunity to go see what it's like inside...
Our "only choice", then, was to head there as soon as nap time for her one year old was over.

Riding in autos is hard, tiring work. But that's what we ended up in.
The call to the taxi to take us to the fancy hotel was at 4:20pm. The dispatcher said: "There is no taxi available for half an hour. 5 o'clock it will come for you."
That was very bad math and not half an hour. But I agreed.
At 5:15 I called the driver and went through extensive directions on how to get to my house. Twenty minutes later I called and asked the driver where he was. The name of the location he gave me was about half an hour away.
What!
Okay, cancel that taxi service.

Now what do we do? It would be fun to go see the 5 star hotel that we wouldn't normally have opportunity to go see. But it was getting late. We would have to have time to come back for the kid's bedtime.
Our new plan? Walk out of the neighborhood and find our own taxi. If we can't get one, we walk a little further and end up at the Chinese restaurant nearby.
As we walked along, an auto passed us asking where we wanted to go? An auto wasn't in the plan. Because it was hot and we were tired and we didn't want to over-tire the kid before we'd even gotten anywhere. But there was the auto...
With a reasonable price.
We looked at each other.
We took it.
So we didn't exactly arrive at the five star hotel looking as if we belonged there, but they let us in anyway.
We walked through the lobby (unimpressive) and put our feet in the pool (slightly impressive). Then we headed out again to find dinner.
We thought we would go to a nearby pizza place and we got an auto to go there. I told him which block to take us to and when he pulled up, what did I see? A sign for Sancho's, the Mexican restaurant we'd been trying to find at lunch time.
"There's Sancho's," I said.
My friend misheard me to say, "There's a sandpit." Which was also true. Because all in front of the restaurant was construction and sand and a great big hole--no way for us to walk through.
The driver, though, showed us the path where people were walking through the construction site.
So my friend and I stood outside the Mexican restaurant and had this short conversation:
"We came here for pizza, but there's Sancho's. Which one do you want to go to?"
"Well, we know what pizza tastes like, we haven't tried Sancho's."
"Right. Let's go."
When we stepped inside and were told they had a baby chair, we knew we had arrived. A marvelous baby chair. Even though I had to eat with one hand while I held my fingers on the latch to keep the tray down and the kid from escaping.
That, and the excellent food with real cheese and real sour cream made all we had been through throughout the day totally worth it to end up here.
Disappointment at lunch time.
Waiting and waiting for a taxi that never showed up.
A plane with air conditioning that didn't work.
A visit to a 5 star hotel.
A search for pizza because we hadn't been successful at lunch.
It had all brought us here.
"That's what you call 'serendipity'," I said.
"No," replied my friend, "That's what you call the orchestration of a good God who knew exactly what we needed."
Absolutely.

Almost on fire

I went with some friends to a recently opened restaurant. We were enjoying the ambiance, good company and classy black silverware when our food arrived. I had taken about two bites of my penne pomodoro and my friend pointed to the window where smoke was billowing into the restaurant.
Several waiters and such rushed over to the window, but it was too late to stop the acrid smoke from filling the room and making the air imbreathable.

We sat at the table, eyes closed and napkins over our faces. Do we evacuate? It doesn't seem to be a fire. Our food just got here--and it's good food.
The other patrons seemed to be leaving.

The waiters came to our table and asked us to please move to another table. They had opened a window on the opposite side of the building and there was a table just beside it for us. They moved all our plates over and we continued eating.
Nothing was really on fire, it seemed, just some short circuit in the signboard outside the window.

One thing that didn't get moved to the new table was my friend's mocha smoothie. She was sad about this. And she asked the waiter about it. They thought it was gone and had removed it, but when she was sad, they brought her a new full one. Very nice.

We were now the only people left in the restaurant (After the man who threw a tantrum over his "long awaited" coffee left--I mean, really, didn't he notice the smoke emergency? Can't he practice a little patience?) and one of the waitresses came over to chat. She wanted to know our names and how our food was and after that she brought another friend over to meet us.

Then we sat there for awhile waiting until finally I asked for the bill, and we were told, there is no bill. Complimentary because of the minor disaster and inconvenience. Even that extra mocha smoothie. Wow.
And then they gave us each a 15% off discount coupon for our next visit. Wow. It wasn't even that much smoke, really.

We left a nice tip.

Where to go for a strawberry smoothie

I still love the night market for taking photographs. It doesn't matter how many times I go, there's always something new to notice.
Besides, so many of my pictures were stolen that I need to go back to where I've been and replace them, right?


After all that picture taking, I was thirsty. So I had the fruit drink stand whip me up a yummy strawberry smoothie.
Mmm...

Shrimp is not a flavor

Here are a few, short thoughts on returning to Thailand.
The sunrise through the fog over the city--it's warm here.

Because shrimp is seen as a flavor, not a meat product, I can't convince the Thai chefs not to add it to my noodles.

Back in Thailand means back to one of my favorite photo-taking places: the night market.

Esplanade and Little India

"Helo? Helo?" We are trying to call you from Little India.
This evening we went downtown to the historical part of the city to see what was there and to eat in Little India.
Some of the buildings are from British colonial days and they have a different feel from the rest of the city.
We ate at one of the outdoor food stalls, where the plates were very big.