Eating Taiwan Famous.

And in news related to my last entry, I have started a second blog: Taiwan Famous. It's going to be a Taiwan only blog, a journal devoted exclusively to my explorations in eating on this island. I'll be chronicling my journey here as I effort to eat and shop locally on the island, seek out interesting local dishes, and try to learn the basics of good Chinese cooking.

I will of course still be continuing writing here on PRIMITIVEculture-- I say continuing even though my entries over these last few months have been pretty sparse. But in a way, I think this blog split will give me some new energy on PRIMITIVEculture. As I prepared for our move to Taiwan, my thoughts on blogging were starting to get so muddled that I really couldn't even write an entry. I wanted to write about all the different foods here, but I didn't like the idea of PRIMITIVEculture getting bogged down with so many minute details about a single subject that, admittedly, not everyone would be interested in. So in the end, a split seemed the best idea. This blog can continue as a visual exploration of the world (including, but not limited to Taiwan), with a focus on style, food, design and photography. And the new blog's project will have a very singular focus, which I think will give it a lot of strength.

So I hope you'll join me for a meal over there, and still continue to travel with me here.

Eating well in LA.

When the weather heats up in the summer, the kind of foods I start to crave become much simpler. Yogurt with homemade granola. Grilled meat. Fresh fruit. And LA is a great city for this. Because while it's always been a city that cared about its diet, its increasingly a city that loves its food; its a combination that means you can easily tailor your eating to be spare, fresh, and healthy, but still delicious.

Taco stands are probably the last place one would think of going for healthy eating, but a good taco can be a thing of beauty in its spareness. Grilled marinated meat, a fresh salsa of chile, onion and cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. A great meal for a smogy LA lunch.

Almost every neighborhood in LA seems to have its own Farmer's Market, one day of the week when stands set up selling overflowing baskets of fruit, vegetables and herbs. We visited a nearby market at Echo Park, where between buying peaches for a clafouti and heirloom tomatoes for a simple salad, we even ran into a few friends.

We picked up a mixed basket of berries which were u-n-b-e-l-i-e-v-a-b-l-e. They fat and sweet, perfect in the morning with just a little tart yogurt. The evening after the Farmer's Market, we attempted to muddle some in drinks, and despite our weak mixology skills, the drinks still shone thanks to the flavor of the berries.

Of course, when you would like to be eating badly, that's easy too. Near the intersection of Echo Park and Silverlake, we found a truck fresh churros, dusted with sugar. The were still hot, the golden exterior crunching to give way to a doughy interior. They certainly made all that healthy eating worth it.

It's almost summer;

have you filled your popsicle molds yet?

On the road in NM.

We've actually been spending most of our time in New Mexico since we returned to the US-- my home-state just hasn't made it onto the blog recently because I'm super bad at remembering to take my camera with me when I go out. The only times I've really remembered to take any photos were on two road-trips-- one to the north-east, the other to the north-west. While the two trips focused on very different spots, the highlight of both were very tasty meals flavored with New Mexico chile.

Our first daytrip took us to the town of Las Vegas, NM. Despite the really incredible Victorian architecture in the city's historic downtown, the city had a rather depressing feeling about it. Luckily, we had a good lunch while we were stopped there. We dropped by Charlie's Spic & Span Bakery and Cafe, which unlike the rest of the town, was filled with people. We had massive breakfast plates for lunch-- I got the carne adovada, pork stewed in red chile, which were topped with an over easy egg. It all went perfectly with Charlie's freshly baked tortillas (we could hear them slapping out the tortilla dough behind us while we ate).

Our next daytrip was to the hotsprings in Jemez. Trips to Jemez were a regular part of my childhood, not for the hotsprings, but because the pine forests up there are a great place for picnics. On the way, we'd usually make a stop at a beautiful red-cliffed spot where women from the reservation would sell fry bread, loaves of bread baked in hornos, or cinnamon dusted cookies. Luckily my nostalgia linked up with Bordeaux's stomach, so we could both agree to make a stop. We opted for an 'indian taco', the somewhat silly name for a dish that I won't pretend not to love. Puffy frybread is topped with ground meat, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and, per our selection, green chile. It was surprisingly spicy, but practically worth the trip alone.

3 Binh My in SF.

One of the most surprising details about San Francisco for me was the way in which binh my, Vietnamese baguette sandwiches, have practically been adopted as a bay area specialty. We saw them sold everywhere and eaten by everyone, from non-descript downtown kiosks catering to local office workers, to the menus of trendy cafes and restaurants, to hole-in-the-wall Tenderloin shops where the queues were startlingly diverse. I love binh my, and likely could have eaten one every day, had I not forced a little restraint upon myself. But as it was, I was able to sample three different binh my, from radically different sources and in quite different forms.

I hate to say it, but the binh my I ate from Saigon to Hanoi might have made me rather particular. While each of the ones I tried in SF were great, I never found a perfect one-- though they came close. Any suggestions on where to try next time?

1. Binh My Pate, from Saigon Sandwich (pictured at top)
We swung by Saigon Sandwich to pick up binh my awhile before lunch-time, but even so there was already a line out the door when we arrived. And after unwrapping my sandwich and taking a bite, I could see why. The sandwiches had a great mix of salty, savory and spicy, with big slices of chili and a generous handful of cilantro. The only problem was the pate flavor, which had too much of a liverwurst flavor, which overpowered a little toward the end. Perhaps I should have ordered the combination pate and cold meats, for a more balanced taste.

2. BBQ Brisket Binh My, at Wexler's

When I saw the BBQ Brisket Binh My listed among the items on the US South-inspired menu at Wexler's, I knew I had to try it. Unfortunately, the result was a little disappointing. I should point out that had I ordered the sandwich simply as a BBQ brisket, I would have had no complaints: the meat was incredibly delicious. But the sandwich was really lacking the binh my flavor it promised. The cilantro and chili were barely present, the pickled cabbage not a perfect substitute for fish-sauce marinated carrots. A great idea, but not terribly well executed.

3. Hoi An Meatball Binh My, from Out the Door

Our first meal in the city itself was a fantastic Vietnamese lunch at the Slanted Door. After leaving, I glanced at their take-away cafe Out the Door, and noticed that they had binh my on the menu. So on our last day, I asked that we swing by the Ferry Building so I could grab one as a final lunch in the city. Though both the Roast Pork and 5 Spice Chicken sounded good, I opted for the Hoi An Meatball sandwich just to be a little different. And once again, the team behind the Slanted Door delivered with a fantastic sandwich that burst with the taste of Vietnam. My only complaint with the sandwich was that, unlike the sandwiches in the city it references, it had no spice. The binh my I had in Hoi An were always doused with a fiery chili sauce, which would have been a nice addition. Perhaps its available upon request?

A day on the plate in Kota Kinabalu.

Despite the mystery and allure evoked by its name, something about Kota Kinabalu keeps it from being a particularly engaging city. It's a city of placid avenues and grid-like concrete buildings, too modern to be characterful, but just a little too worn to be graceful. But if there is one moment when the city may be redeemed, it's when its residents sit down to eat.

Many people take their meals under the swirling ceiling fans of kopitiam, Chinese style coffee shops. For breakfast, this is where to go for a warm, sticky glass of coffee, sweetened with condensed milk. If you're lucky, you'll also be able to find a plate of bread with kaya, a rich coconut jam.

The kopitiam stay in business all day; you'll be able to swing by again for lunch. Items on the menu range from Chinese favorites, like char siew (barbecued pork), to Malay, like laksa (noodles in a coconut milk curry), to Straits specialities, like chicken-rice (poached chicken served with a delicate soup and a mildly garlicy bed of rice). Sometimes the most satisfying meal is the most straightforward, like the above mee ayam: a pile noodles (mee) that have been wok-fried in kejap manis (a dark, sweet soy sauce) are topped with cleaver-cut slabs of delicious crispy skinned chicken (ayam).

Elsewhere, Indian style restaurants sell a diverse range of curries, made with chicken, lamb, and vegetables, or even squid and shrimp. A few select shops serve their curry on a banana leaf; more often, a more humble presentation involves a plastic plate and a mound of rice. Look for the large griddles to identify a shop specializing in roti canai, unleavened bread served with small dishes of curry, or murtabak, a folded roti canai filled with meat or vegetables.

You'll still find the city's restaurants and kopitiam awake at night, but for a more lively dinner, head toward the night market on the waterfront. The stalls at the centre of the market seem oddly lacking in variety-- most sell fried rice, fried noodles, or soto, a spicy soup-- but you'll likely find a cheap, tasty meal at least. Around the periphery are dessert shops-- perfect for the sultry Borneo evenings are shops selling cendol, a pandan flavoured dessert served over ice with a dash of coconut milk.

For a more unique dinner you'll need to penetrate the clouds of smoke toward the back of the market. There, you'll find yourself among the grills of the Filipino Barbecue, where vendors display dazzling piles of seafood-- massive prawns, formidible lobsters, and technicolor fish-- all available to be grilled and served with a dressing of chili. It's perhaps the cheapest spot to indulge in the incredible catch available off Borneo's coast.

To walk through the city at mealtime is to hear the sound of spoons scraping at woks and of roti being slapped onto the griddle, to see piles of gorgeous seafood, ducks hanging in shop windows, and trays of colorful curries. It's encountering the unique mix of cultures-- Chinese, Indian, Filipino and Malay-- and the contrasting geographies-- from the tropic seas to the fertile forests-- that make up KK. You might not always be able to see what's exciting about Kota Kinabalu, but at least you can taste it.

A revelation, which should have been obvious.

I'm happier in Asia. I don't imagine it's hard to see why.

A little frost with your penguins.

In my recent post on Simon's Town, I offered one piece of rather important advice: don't eat in Simon's Town. But I will make one small exception. On the walk between the Simon's Town beach and Boulder's (the spot for penguin viewing) there is a small window right on the sidewalk, offering ice cream by Ice Dream of Hout Bay. The menu is limited to what they can squeeze onto their chalkboard, and focuses on rich interpretations of classic flavours. Perfect for a frosty treat on the walk back from checking out the Cape's antarctic residents.

Walking out of a restaurant.

Last weekend Bordeaux and I decided to get out of town for lunch, so we drove up to the Winelands to have lunch at a wine estate. We'd done a little research, and picked a place that came recommended in some eating guides. But when we got there and looked at the menu, we were a little disappointed. The menu seemed a bit pretentious, trying too hard. The most succint problem with the menu was that there was something with 'wonton cups' in the appetizers-- and while I obviously have no problems with Asian food, I find it a bit tiresome how frequently restaurants in Cape Town add one token Asian-inspired item to their menu just to show how wordly and sophisticated they are.* Basically though, we were after a simple, delicious, lazy Sunday lunch, and this obviously wasn't the place for it.

So anyway, we walked out. We drove a bit to Fairview, a winery and cheese farm near Paarl, which we have visited often and always enjoy. We shared a massive platter of their hand-crafted cheeses (pictured above), which included a mature and flavourful la beryl, creamy camembert, and an incredibly rich and dessert-like cream cheese with cranberries. We ate it with crusty bread, a bitter preserved orange, slices of cured meat, and a chilled bottle of wine. Perfect for a late Sunday lunch on a very warm afternoon.

A few years ago, I never would have been able to walk out of a restaurant. I will admit it's a little tacky maybe, and I probably would have been a bit embarrassed about what other diners would think. But now I actually find something-- in an odd way-- satisfying about walking out of a restaurant. I suppose I've gotten to the point that I really care much less about what other people think, and I've also come to really appreciate the value of a good meal spent with someone I care about. I don't think it's worth wasting time on mediocrity, or settling for something less when there are much better options around. Admittedly, we could have been surprised. There's a chance that had we stayed we might have ended up liking what we ate, but we also just knew that we could have a much more enjoyable meal elsewhere. It's about realizing that enjoying the limited time I have is more important than worrying about my pride.

With all of that said, my grandparents used to walk out of movies that they found morally objectionable. I think their morals got stricter and movies more crass to the point that they would usually leave the theatre about five minutes in. So maybe it's actually just genetic, and I'm on a very dangerous road?

*And yet, good, straight-forward Asian food is very difficult to find in Cape Town. More on that some other time, perhaps.

Turkey and crisco.

I think sometimes I give the impression of being a food snob, or of only being into 'exotic' foods, but really that's hardly the case. I really just like simple food well made, in whatever form that might take. And I'm certainly not one to turn down something tasty from my home-country. Last time I was home, I had some incredible American meals in Los Angeles, Albuquerque, and Chicago. Ok, I might be more interested in the eating cultures of say Vietnam or Thailand, but now and then I really get a craving for a familiar American classic.

Like donuts. I can potentially count the number of donuts I've actually eaten in the past decade on one hand, but for some reason, the craving hit me recently. I don't really feel a need to justify this-- a well crafted donut (not from the above retailer, which was included for mere thematic purposes) can be a beautiful confection. Take, for example, these apple cider donuts I just spotted over on Smitten Kitchen. The warming aroma of apple, spiced with the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon-- it sounds like a brilliant celebration of an American classic. I'm trying to eat a little healthier* after too much baking lately, so this recipe could be a rather dangerous find, were two of the central ingredients, shortening and apple cider, not so tricky to get a hold of in South Africa. I've actually attempted to make donuts once before; last time I was in Albuquerque I took my stab at it, and came up with some rather dark and overly chewy donuts with a too-strong lemon flavour. Even with that to discourage me, I might still consider attempting these when I get back on American soil...

We've also been discussing American food recently over the topic of Thanksgiving, as Bordeaux and I debate whether we'll actually celebrate it. Bordeaux is curious to try roasting a turkey, but given Cape Town's climbing temperatures, I'm more inclined to play around with the holidays a little and have an evening with a barbecue and some root beer floats. But this afternoon I found myself poring over New York Times articles on preparing Thanksgiving dinner for some reason, and was left actually wondering if we shouldn't actually take a stab at a big Thanksgiving dinner.

Anyway, perhaps I will get something of a fill tonight, anyway, as we will be eating American for dinner. We're hosting a friend's birthday here, so we'll be having hamburgers, with home-made buns, no less. Though, well, I should point out that they're ostrich burgers. And we'll be enjoying them with South African red wines. I'm not really helping my point, am I?

*(after tonight, when I'll be having a piece of Bordeaux's double layer victoria sponge cake with chocolate buttercream frosting, that is)

Eating American in Los Angeles.

The above photos are not documentation of a bizarre three-course meal, but rather some samples of my first weekend eating again in the United States. Though I obviously had regrets about the food I'd be leaving in Southeast Asia, I was pretty excited about the food I'd be returning to in the US. And luckily the port of entry for my return was Los Angeles, the ideal place to get started eating.

We only had a weekend in LA, which was way too short to get in everything we wanted-- but we managed to do pretty well for ourselves. Highlights (most of which are illustrated above) included a greasy diner-style patty melt, an excellently prepared homemade Thanksgiving dinner, almond and cherry scones with a latte at Peet's Coffee on Larchmont, and a decadent pumpkin-spice cupcake at Swinger's Diner.

And though it doesn't exactly fit with the theme, I will also single out one of our best meals-- a delicious (and long awaited) Ethiopian dinner on Fairfax.

Sadly missed? Zankou Chicken, and even a single Taco Truck. Next time...

Khmer things I ate.

The awkwardness of this entry's title was intentional, as it was meant to evoke the haphazard nature of my food 'researches' on this trip to Cambodia. Though I had really looked forward to exploring the nuanced flavors of Khmer cooking, we traveled at such breakneck speed that there wasn't much time for culinary exploration. More often than not, meals had to be worked into the schedule, either between seeing the sights or after a long day of temple gazing. In the end, many of our meals were at tourist-oriented restaurants serving Khmer food. Even so, I did have some amazing meals and a few dishes that really made me consider making the move across the border. At the very least, my un-sated curiosity provides more than enough reason to return some day. So, I now end my series of post on Cambodia with a few of the dishes that I tried over this visit to Cambodia.
a. This dish really was one of the best things I ate in Cambodia- so good, I completely forgot to write down its name. It was notable for being one of the freshest, healthiest meals I had: a salad of white fish, peanuts, raw herbs, and lime juice.
b. Beef lok lak, a stir-fry of beef served over a salad of tomato and onions and topped with a fried egg. It was tasty, but greatly enhanced by the peppery sauce it was served with.
c. Very similar to some vegetable cakes I've had in Bangkok, these golden fried discs of fatty noodle were filled with dark green chives.
d. Though I originally thought it gave me food poisoning, the only fault of this tasty bowl of chicken pho was that it didn't stave off a wicked flu.
e. One of the simplest dishes I ate, Khmer noodles, tasted great with the addition of a little chili sauce.
f. How traditional was this samlor? I couldn't tell- I knew only that it tasted like a cousin to Thailand's tom yum.
g. One of the most interesting dishes I had was a small bowl of prahok, a fermented curry paste. Eaten off the edge of crisp lettuce and bitter eggplant, it had a deep, salty flavour.
h. Sitting by a seaside window, getting splashed by the waves, I sampled this tasty vietnamese soup. Though partly sour, it was given a nice sweetness thanks to chunks of golden pineapple.
i. The last dish, a plate of yellow curry crab with fresh green pepper, was so delicious that I intend to devote a full entry to it sometime in the near future.

Brunch in the shadows of gods.

For our day in Angkor, we scheduled sunrise in Angkor Thom. We scaled the crumbling steps of the Bayon as the first breath of pale-indigo sunlight drifted over the forest. We’d planned ahead, and as we watched the giant stone faces brighten in the morning light, we had a breakfast of Earl Grey muffins and slices of banana bread that we’d purchased at a café in Siem Reap the night before.

By the time we finished exploring some of Angkor Thom’s more overgrown temples several hours later, the muffins were starting to feel a little insufficient. We scanned the open dirt centre for food, not expecting to find much other than touristy Khmer food stands. Thankfully, we spotted a woman selling one of my favorite Indochine foods, baguette sandwiches. While Bordeaux waited for our order, I picked out a ripe mango from a bicycle fruit shop.

With our brunch in hand, we found a shaded spot among a ruined wall. A stone face smiled up at us, it’s eyes worn away with age and its jaw trimmed with moss. The sandwich was just what I had been craving. The crusty baguette had a nice crunch that complemented the soft filling inside. Compared to the sandwiches I’d enjoyed recently in Vietnam, this one was less salty, and quite a bit sweeter. Rather than a combination of pate and cold cuts, it had chunks of fatty pork and a dressing of sweet chili sauce. In place of cilantro, it had strips of green papaya, which added a nice crispness. The mango too was steller- so soft that it slid off the bamboo skewer as we pierced it, so rich and melting that it tasted like ice cream. It was the perfect brunch for Angkor; as exotic and engaging as the ruined city itself.