Bet You Won't Eat This

DRAFT IN PROGRESS -- NOT READY TO BE READ YET

A crowd gathered to watch me. I was seated on a very, very low stool in a Dalat, Vietnam marketplace bent so that my knees banged into my ears, hovered over a plate. “I have no idea what I am eating," I said to the uncomprehending masses, “but it sure tastes good!" New to the country, I had not yet learned how to say “this is delicious," but I employed the universal nodding, eye-brow raising, lip-smacking, and hand gestures that convey the same sentiments to the cook. As there were no other foreigners to be seen nearby, my presence was not only a novelty but afforded the vendor with a certain prestige.

I had been eyeing these dumpling-like goodies for days. Small, white, moist-looking, and with a certain transperancy, these morsels were piled in bowls, appearing to wiggle as you walked by (No, wait! Maybe that was me!). They were served with some kind of sauce on top. I had been curious and enticed -- rice noodles, I presumed, but the filling was uncertain. Today was the day to be adventurous. As I ate the slippery snacks, I tried to figure out the contents. “Tom?" I inquired of one item. Yes, it was shrimp. But what was the paste in the other? Our pantomine and mutual lack of comprehension failed us. Finally, I pulled out my phrasebook, opened to the market section and handed it to the young man who seemed to be the group’s designated spokesperson. He finds the word he’s looking for and points to it. “Ohhh," I confirmed, admittedly relieved, “green beans!"

I have a very close relationship with food. I like it, I like looking at it, I like thinking about it, I like talking about it, I like planning it, I like cooking it, I like feeding it to others, I like smelling it, and I like using it to, errr, umm, enhance intimate moments. Food is not sustenance alone, it is an activity, fun, a celebration. I admit that I chose Southeast Asia as a destination as much for the food as for anything else (although the same can not be said for New Zealand and Australia!). But while I’ve had some wonderful food moments on this trip, I have not had the constant culinary excitement I had expected. At first I thought this was because I was eating on the cheap. But even a dinner at one of Hanoi’s fanciest restaurants was a disappointment. I think the best meal I had in Vietnam was at a restaurant where the service was dreadful and they brought me the wrong order!

But then there are moments such as the one pictured here. My guidebook sent me to Portuguese Square in Melaka, Malaysia for seafood. About seven restaurants were lined up in a row, seemingly offering the same fare. I inspected each, asked a few questions (anyone who has eaten dinner with me knows that it is not a simple affair!), and selected one that had sea bass available. They kept directing me to sit down -- not in a controlling way, but because they believed that was polite -- but I had to see what the woman was doing to a fish she was preparing. On a banana leaf she smeared an unidentified red sauce, set the fish, splayed, atop it, and smeared some more sauce on top of the fish. It was then wrapped up and steamed. I determined that that was the dish for me. I sat down, but then had to get up again to see what the vegetable choices were since none of the words were familiar. Finally I sat down with a tall Tiger beer, the waiter probably hoping this would make me more docile. It turned out to be one of the best meals I've had this entire trip. But the cook would not reveal the recipe for the sauce; he said that all the other restaurant owners want to know it as well.

The ironic thing, however, is that later that night was the only time on the entire trip that I have had successive bouts of diarrhea -- but no pain, no nausea, no feeling lousy. Just a need to, umm, stay close to home. Good thing I splurged on a room with my own bathroom! For the most part I have not had the traditional traveller’s stomach problems. And I have done every thing I told myself I wouldn’t do. I’ve had drinks made with water. I’ve allowed ice in my drinks. I’ve eaten food at hawker stalls that I haven’t seen cooked. I’ve eaten seafood. I’ve eaten watermelon (presumably because it absorbs so much water, it can be dangerous). I've eaten on plates that were washed in questionable water. The only thing I haven't done, until I got to Singapore, was brush my teeth with tap water; I always used bottled water. I don't know why I drew the line there.

Perhaps it is because I am a Food Adventurer that I can't be satisfied with the restrictions of caution whether it relates to food preparation and rules or to what I'm eating. When he was in college, my Used-to-Be and friend Joe developed a game with his pals called Bet You Won’t Eat This. At a party they would wander around the house finding disgusting non-food items and dare one another to eat it. The only item I distinctly remember was spider webs, but you get the idea. Eating in Southeast Asia sometimes seems like this game. To truly get the flavor of a country, you have to dare yourself to try new things. For example, would you eat this? Kinda scary looking, isn’t it? But inside is a delicious white, sweet fruit called rambutan; it looks and tastes very similar to lychees. There are many things I wish I could just try a teensiest bit of so I would know whether or not I like it. And some foods I just wish would be explained to me. I have an idea for a business in SE Asia -- to set up a tasting stand for foreigners.

Chosing where to eat also can be an adventure and I usually make it a big event. At first I assumed those restaurants where I saw the most locals eating would have the best food. Then after a ho-hum meal in one such restaurant, I considered how many Americans eat in McDonald's and changed that strategy. If I can see the food I feel much better, so hawkers' stalls and food centers are helpful for that. But I must endure the constant refrain of the hawkers as I pass, "fried rice?" This really bugs me because the assumption is that that's all Westerners will eat. I don't even like fried rice! In a similar instance, I pointed to a delicious-looking squid dish in one Thai restaurant and was told, "Madame wouldn't like that." I asked why and she told me because it would be too hot. Of course, I ordered it, determined to eat it even if my mouth felt like a coal furnace, and it was not only the right amount of "heat" for me, it was delicious. (So there.)

Finding great food anywhere is an art. One of the basic tenets I follow is to order what you believe a place can do best -- regardless of what temptations are on the menu. Thus, in a roadside stand in Cape Tribulation, Australia, I surveyed the menu, compared it to the premises, and ordered what turned out to be one of the best hamburgers I've ever eaten. In the States you don't order seafood when you're in the middle of the country and expect it to be good. And so too, in Asia. Go with what it looks like they can best do. And in a pinch, noodle shops are always a good pick and they are everywhere and cheap; and noodle soup is great comfort food, quick food, and good food for a queasy stomach. In many places where tourists are prominent, there are foods prepared just for them. I am certain that banana pancakes and fruit shakes were not a regular part of the Thai diet before the backpackers showed up.

In Malaysia and Singapore food centers are popular, much like our food courts in shopping malls, except these serve good food! In addition to watching the vendors cooking, you can stroll around eyeing what other people are eating and ask them from which stall they got it. The stall in this picture was very patient with me, even going to find an English-speaking vendor nearby to answer my questions. You can select what you want in your soup, what kind of broth, and they quickly serve it up. [INSERT PICTURES]

Even trolling marketplaces when I'm not hungry is fun for me. Perhaps my favorite market was the Victoria Market in Melbourne, Australia, which I went to on my last day there -- foolishly -- because I could have bought some of that delicious food to cook! And I do miss cooking. That's why the cooking class I took in Chiang Mai, Thailand was so much fun. We went to the market to choose our ingredients and to learn about various foods. I can now make mango and sticky rice! Psst, take a close look at the nearest cutting board for one of the other class members.

An important skill to learn is to get appropriate food before getting onto a bus or train; appropriate because you need to be able to eat it with relative ease. Sometimes there will be many choices and enough time, other times you just gotta think fast and grab. I've developed an entrepreneurial idea about having grab and go breakfast packs at train and bus stations. But in many places, there are several vendors next to the bus, train, or ferry ready to sell you a cold drink, fresh fruit, an ice cream, a snack, or an entire meal.

Food words have been among the first words that I've learned, especially for my favorite foods. But in Vietnam it was also very important to know that restaurants with the sign "Thit Cay" out front would serve you dog! In Vietnam, too, because of the tonal language, if you say "sua chua" you are either asking for yogurt or to have your motorcycle repaired.

In one of my classic games where I make myself make choices that I'll never really have to make (remember "would you rather be blind or deaf?") I asked myself to choose one food group to live off for the rest of my life. I chose fruit. And I've discovered while traveling in these parts that if it was tropical fruit, all the better. The mangoes are divine, coconut in any form heavenly. And I've discovered two new loves -- custard apples and mangosteens. I often don't eat in the middle of the day when it is hottest, but have been living off of coconut juice and soy bean milk. And speaking of soy beans, among the new foods tried and adored is a bean curd custard sort of thing with a light sugar syrup poured on top. The steamed fish is perhaps one of the highlights of Asian cooking (and I learned to make it, too!). But, as I've mentioned, I desperately miss popcorn.

After nearly four months in Asia, I hit the rice wall only recently. Generally I am happy to have rice or noodles, but lately all I want is fish and vegetables. But sometimes it is hard to get both a meat and vegetables in one dish. In Thailand, families eat together and several dishes are cooked for one meal, often separating the meat from the vegetables. Restaurants follow this pattern and therefore are not geared toward the single diner who wants both items in one.

A couple of food oddities (other than the body parts we would never think to eat) occur to this Western mind. It is hard to find plain old fruit juice in a bottle or can. I guess it is presumed that you'll either eat the fruit or get a tourist-oriented fruit shake. There is no distinction on what foods you eat when. The concept of separate breakfast foods is very Western. Most Asians eat the same thing anytime of day.

Eating itself is a very different matter in Asia. You use a spoon and fork; chopsticks are not always offered. The spoon -- a large one -- is what goes into your mouth; the fork pushes the food onto the spoon. A fork into the mouth is considered very rude. A separate style of spoon is offered for soup and then chopsticks are given to get at the goodies therein. There is a serious napkin problem in Asia. Most of the time you are not offered any. In Vietnam, they love to give you these wet towels wrapped in plastic and then charge you for them (which you learn too late). Toilet paper -- which is not offered where one might expect it to be -- is often on the table to use as napkins, wholly unsatisfactory! The napkins I have seen are as if you took a regular paper napkin and cut it in quarters. I just travel with a handkerchief and in special moments use a real napkin or wetnap hoarded from a plane flight. Then there is always the back of my hand.

I was able to solve a food mystery while on this trip. Back in Massachusetts I bought a bag of sesame candies, very excited about enjoying them. When I opened the first one, I was disappointed that while the outer wrapper came off easily, it appeared that there was an inner wrapper stuck to the candy. I peeled and peeled but couldn't get it off. I tried another candy, same problem. And another, same problem. Finally, in frustration (and apparently in an intense desire for a sesame candy!), I just popped one in my mouth expecting the wrapper to separate from the candy as I ate it. It never happened. Then I went to a coconut candy factory in Vietnam and was told how the candy is wrapped in a rice paper -- that is completely edible! -- before being placed in the packaging wrapper. Ohhhhhh...