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Saigon Street Eats – XO Foodie Tour

XO Tours‘ foodie tour came highly recommended from Winston, a friend in Shanghai who’d eaten his way through Saigon last year.  We were disappointed at first – the tour was fully booked all three days that Myra and I were in town.  However, two spots opened up last minute and we eagerly jumped on board.  Around 5:30 in the afternoon, two cheerful ladies picked up us on scooters and after a brief introduction, we zoomed off to our first stop, a beef noodle soup place on the side of the street (I’m not sure where).

Riding in the back of a scooter was a fun first.  Just so you know, I have strong thighs, and I’ve been working on my core, so I definitely didn’t have to hold onto the bike with my hands (most of the time).  Also, my tour guide warned me not to hold onto her, which I guess would’ve been a little creepy for her.  But mostly, it was core strength.  Like a true professional (Vietnamese guy).

Ben, the group tour guide, met us at the noodle soup stall, and explained a bit about bun bo hue: bun is the round spaghetti-esque rice noodle (as opposed to the flat-shaped pho) and bo is beef (the soup as well as slices of cooked brisket), with a vinegary savoriness.  The hot bowl served to kickstart our appetites as well as line our stomachs.

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Camels and Dunes – Dubai

We took a morning trip to a stretch of desert about an hour outside of Dubai, unleashing SUVs on the dunes (apparently driving aggressively along the crests of the dunes with semi-deflated tires is called ‘dune-bashing’), doing a bit sandboarding and a bit more of sandrolling, and hopping onto a camel’s back for a brief walk-around.

The desert is a bizarre place where I’ve decided I would not like to spend a lot of time.  Luckily, at this time of year, it wasn’t oppressively hot, and we so enjoyed our time among the dunes, jumping and running along the ridges and flailing some sand angels out of the neatly windbrushed ground.  The sand here is incredibly fine, much more than any beach I’ve visited, which is comfortably, but conversely, embeds itself into every possible nook and cranny you can imagine in your clothes.

DSC_1035 DSC_1040 DSC_8323 20121215_124253 DSC_1064 DSC_1080 DSC_1087[certain photo credits: Emily Reasor]

 

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On The Road to Hana

Starting on the north-central edge of Maui in Paia Town, which from the road is nothing more than a quaint collection of small shops, we embarked on a full day’s journey along the Hana Highway, to the old town of Hana – and beyond, to the Oheo Gulch and one of the fringes of the much larger Haleakala National Park.

We picked up a few sandwiches and drinks from Paia Bay Coffee, where the barista told us the surf was up that day.  So we set off to see Jaws, the notorious surfing destination a few miles down the first stretch of the Road to Hana (on Highway 36) between mile markers 13 and 14.  Along the way, we were treated to a gorgeous first glance of the ocean surf as we passed Hoopika Beach Park:

The vantage point for Jaws was a bit of hike once we parked the car, longer than we had planned for in what was already a packed day, but when we finally got to the overlook, it was packed with onlookers, tourists and surfer folks alike, many armed with hefty camera lens, waiting just like the surfers down below for the right set to come along.  During winter, the waves reach much higher heights, but the waves that day were “only” twenty-some feet high.

We hoped to catch one of the surfers catching a wave, but after a captivating hour, it was time to move on – we had to tear ourselves away and get back on the road.  Our next stop was Twin Falls, the first waterfall in a day chock full of them – but also the most accessible and the most easily swim-able, just a short hike away from a roadside fruit stand (where, rest assured, we bought fresh-pressed sugarcane drinks and banana bread).

We waded our way out into the pool and underneath the freezing cascade of falling water.  When we’d dried ourselves and stopped shivering, we headed back to the car and was on our way to the next waterfall.

And the views along the remaining stretches of highway toward Hana continued to be stunning:

We passed little towns that felt like they were transfixed in another time, standing on the Keanea Lookout, overlooking the Peninsula of taro fields, surrounded by roadside homes and fruit stands.

Finally, Hana came and went, and the road became a bit narrower, a bit more weathered.  We saw Wailua Falls:

We headed around what essentially became a one-lane road until we reached Haleakala National Park and the O’heo Gulch.  We chose the longer two-mile hike that climbs towards the 400-foot-tall Waimoku Falls – we’d started our hike around 5pm and as we progressively neared the end of the trail (and also progressively felt more and more lost), the panic of the approaching sunset and disorientation of being (seemingly) the only ones left on the trail started to get to us – but in retrospect, it was worth every nervous step, even when the brief torrential rain stranded us momentarily amidst the thick fragrance of trampled flowers and ripened guava littered and burst open all over the forest floor.

The trail snaked up past these stepped waterfalls flowing into one another, and led to a beautifully desolate and incredibly dense bamboo rainforest that seemed to go on forever.

When we finally stumbled out of the bamboo cover and waded through a few streams overflowing with rainwater, the brush cleared suddenly and Waimoku Falls opened up before us out of nowhere:

When we hurried back to our car, a tiny visitor was waiting for us:

We’d washed our muddy feet and hands and climbed back into the car for what would be a harrowing two-hour thrill ride back along those hairpin turns and one-lane bridges all the way to Paia Town.  Before our hike, we’d stopped the audio guide CD that had accompanied us thus far, and as we started the car back up the narrator’s cheerful voice greeted us with a “Congratulations, you’ve now completed the Road to Hana!” as if this had been some surreptitiously arranged version of some bizarre live-action game.  She proceeded to suggest a drink at the famous Mama’s Fish House, exactly where our reservation was for later that night.  In our weary happiness, or happy exhaustion, we were more profoundly amused than spooked by this little series of coincidences.  Just another set of good tidings and well-wishing to send us on our way.

Maui – Sunrise on Haleakala and Sunsets

What a concept, to hit the road at three in the morning, peacoats and coffee in tow, to head up the slender road that slithers in brisk 180-degree turns along the pitch black darkness off the mountainside.  In about 37 miles, the road took us from sea level to about 10,000 feet – our rental Mustang sharing the lanes with a slew of Jeeps, hatchbacks, and the occasional white tour company van.  We stopped at the summit of Haleakala, House of the Sun, parking below an observatory a few hundred meters past the more popular Visitors Center.  After a brief shivering nap, we walked up to join the small crowd huddled together, looking up at the still-dark Haleakala sky dotted with stars, out over the silhouette of jagged volcanic peaks, and down from our height at the distant expanse of clouds that were brightening with yellow, orange, lavender. On the way back down the mountain, we caught a glimpse of the western valley and the shadow of Haleakala over land and water: The sunsets we caught around the island (in Wailea and Lahaina) were just as inspiring:

Visions of Chiang Mai

There are many ways to spend one’s time in the lush forests and modest mountains that surround Chiang Mai.

The Elephant Nature Park, about an hour outside of town, houses a number of Asian elephants (much smaller than their African counterparts), many rescued from Thai streets or loggers.

 

Unlike other venues where you can ride the creatures or watch them paint or perform, this park is focused on educating visitors on the complexity of the Thai relationship with elephants, which are revered animals but also (once) heavily used (and imaginably mistreated) in the logging industry.  We fed and helped bathe many of the reserve’s adopted animals, some of which are very old and heavily scarred, but many of them have cultivated their own familial relationships within the larger community, some protective and symbiotic, some fiercely independent, some in mourning.  Since the countrywide ban on rainforest logging in 1990s, much of the domesticated elephant population is “without work,” with some displaced into cities by handlers to beg and others sold into Myanmar.  There is a glacial slowness to the creatures, but also grace and beauty provided by such a rhythm of life and their renowned intelligence.

Tigers (Tiger Kingdom).

 

 

 

 

Tiger Kingdom felt a bit more exploitative, especially after the elephants, but it was still breathtaking to see these amazing animals up close: the vivacity of the cubs, who are learning to stalk and bite and sort out a social order among themselves, coupled with the daytime, drowsy slothfulness of the older (much larger) tigers.

Ziplining (Flight of the Gibbon).

 

Some of the trees were stuck with this ladder contraction; apparently, locals hammer steps into the trunks and climb sans safety equipment to get at honey in the treetops.  If they look a bit rickety, they are only meant to be climbed a few times before the bamboo rungs become too weak.

 

After ziplining, we went for a hike up alongside a nearby waterfall.

 

 

 

Genoese sponge cake with pistachio and fresh berries

London Calling: Italian Dessert Pastry Course at La Cucina Caldesi (Marylebone)

My last few days in London, I signed up for an Italian dessert pastry class at Cucina Caldesi, a cooking school hidden away in Marylebone behind its eponymous cafe (Caffè Caldesi, which features Tuscan classics, and quite a tasty fritto misto appetizer).

The teaching chef, a tall man named Stefano, had a deep voice and somewhat short temper and heavy brows that make it look like he is constantly brooding.  Other than a small blow-up with his sous-chef after she rocked half the lemon tart’s unsettled custard filling over the bottom of an oven, Chef Stefano was actually an exceeding nice guy and very capable teacher, explaining and whisking and tempering and putting things in the oven very great fluency and fluidity.

The equipment and setting are very nice, with emphasis on restaurant-level sanitation, and two sous-chefs are constantly helping to clear messes or demonstrate little techniques that one rarely feels stranded.  I did have to stir meringue over a hot water bath for twenty minutes until my arms hurt, but that may or may not have been self-inflicted pain (look, when the chef asks for a volunteer, sometimes you just volunteer).

I don’t have a lot of action shots of the making-of portion of the class, which is arguably just as fun, if not more so, than the final eating part.  Personally, it was a soft-landing sort of introduction to baking, since I’m not particularly precise in the kitchen or experienced with the oven or sweets, seeing the relative ease of certain steps and creations (namely the ladies’ kisses and orange/pistachio biscuits)- and alternatively, the precision and tools and time required for certain other elements (making choux pastry, lining tart pans) were great to see demonstrated in real-time, if only to demystify the process a bit if my life ever depended on making torta al limone from scratch.

It wouldn’t be the weirdest context involving tart, since the following happened to me in college:

Me, picking up the phone: “Oh hey, John, what’s up?”

John: “Hey, you know about food and stuff, right?  How do you make a mini-tart?  I need, like, 300 small fruit tarts.”

Me: “What?  No, I don’t know how to bake at all.  What do you need that many tarts for?”

John: “I’m rush chair for my frat at MIT.”

Anyway, here are the fruits of our labor:

Pear and frangipan tart, baci ma buoni, berry custard tart, orange & pistachio cantuccini

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Man-made Bridge in Yellow Dragon Cave

Yellow Dragon Cave – Wulingyuan, China

I recently visited Huanglong Dong (stop snickering), a winding cave system in the forested mountains near Zhangjiajie in northern Hunan province.  The path leading to the cave’s entrance is lined with what seemed to be an homage to the region’s agricultural heritage, with a garden, small swatches of rice fields, watercress, an idle water buffalo, a few farmers with heavy yokes, and an intricate set of waterwheels.

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Tortellini with Tomato Sauce and Basil at New School of Cooking

Pasta Class at the New School of Cooking – Los Angeles

During the first months of my funemployment, I’d been looking for cooking classes decently close to Santa Monica – and had found a cooking school about twenty minutes away in Culver City that had an array of themed recreational courses.

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