Category Archives: fish

Taking it for granted

Allow me to get a little personal with you today. It’s been only a few months, but I feel like I know you already.

I could tell you a long and boring personal story, but I have been told it is far too long and boring to torture readers with on this blog. So I will tell you this: I am in the process of distributing my book. It has seen interest from everyone we’ve talked to, but I have to leave it at that because I’m superstitious and can’t take anything for granted until the ink on the forms is dry (although I can say all the paperwork for distribution at B2S is done! Yay!)

It’s a good book, one that a lot of people worked really hard on. It was a first time for all involved, and I am proud of the work we all did. The stalls are all excellent, and you should definitely try them out.

The problem: I left something out. Namely, this.

 

Bamee Asawin from Bamee Gua

I first went to Bamee Gua maybe 15 years ago. I was not yet Bangkok Glutton, and despaired in the lack of air conditioning, in the small portions, in the silent, elderly diners around us. Known by some as “Bamee Asawin” after their signature dish, Bamee  Gua is the very best type of egg noodle shop: clean and efficient, with enough confidence in the kitchen to offer a wide variety of noodle- and rice-based dishes.

But I turned my nose up at the bamee asawin, delicately flavored with bits of thang chai (pickled turnip) (35-45 baht). I ignored the buttery, silky e mee topped with strips of ham and chicken (100-160 baht, available only on Saturdays). I didn’t even see the delicious khao na gai (rice topped with chicken and gravy, 30-35 baht) or khao moo yang (grilled pork rice, 30 baht). I basically acted like my 9-year-old daughter now acts when we drag her to a street food stall. Like I was counting the minutes to Burger King.

Chicken and gravy rice with Chinese sausage

Since then, Bamee Gua’s e-mee has become a weekly habit, picked up every Saturday to reward myself after a punishing workout. I bow down to the excellence of their egg noodles (ranging from 35 baht for regular yentafo, or pink seafood noodles, to 55 baht for egg noodles with chicken, squid, pork, fish dumplings and fish meatballs). I acknowledge the buoyancy of their fish meatballs (40 baht with pork dumplings). Their minced pork-topped flat noodles, accompanied by a single raw egg yolk and accented with lots and lots of cumin (35 baht), are absolutely delicious.

My Saturday lunch

Are they in the book I just released? No. I know, I know. I know! I took them for granted. I plum forgot about them, writing about other places as I chomped down on their hammy ambrosia (to be fair to me — because we must always be fair to me — there is a whole bunch of awesome street food in this city, ESPECIALLY when it comes to egg noodles). I hope they don’t cut off all ties in retaliation, denying me the pleasure of my typical Saturday lunch. To make up for it, please allow me to say: Go here. Eat at this place. It tastes good.

Bamee Gua (full name: Bamee Gua, the originator of “Bamee Asawin”)

On Lang Suan, across from the Kasikornbank building

02-251-6020, 02-251-9448

Open Mondays-Saturdays 9.00-14.00

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Filed under Asia, bamee, Bangkok, chicken, fish, food, food stalls, noodles, pork, rice, Thai-Chinese, Thailand

Glutton Abroad: Two Faces, One Stomach

When I lived in Tokyo, there was a period of time when, inspired by Annie Hall, I spent every weekend in Omotesando dressed like Diane Keaton. Even then, no one ever came up to me, not even once, and tried to punch me in the face. That tells you how polite people can be.

I mention this because the one thing I was struck by during my time in the northwest U.S. was how polite and nice everyone was. EVERYONE wanted to know if I was having a good day, had advice on what to get and where to get it, or just wanted to shoot the breeze about the weather. At times, unnerved, I would try to play along, but people can sense masked awkwardness and instinctively move away (because, let’s face it, am I Rachel Ray? No. No, I am not).

Nice, laid-back people, Dungeness crabs, and Kurt Cobain — good things have traditionally come out of the Pacific Northwest. At the same time, this area is also well known for being a haven for scary psychos of the first order. As well as the home of sparkly vampires. So there’s also that to think about. This duality also shows up in the region’s food scene. There is bad and there is good (usually when cooks aren’t trying so hard). And then there is the I Don’t Really Know What To Think Yet. This category is the most infuriating of all.

SEATTLE

Beautiful berries at Pike Place Market

 

You know, people talk about how weird Seattle is, how people walk around in plaid all day long and don’t take showers and eat only tofu. Well, there is a little bit of that, but the Emerald City is also a surprisingly food-oriented kind of city (I totally loathe the term “foodie”. Not because of any ridiculous, stupid backlash, but because it’s often used to divide people “in the know” from “everyone else” and suggests that people who like food also need to spend lots of money on good food. As a person who loves street food, I obviously don’t subscribe to that). So Seattle is “foodie” (gag), but in a very laid-back, natural and unpretentious way.

The embodiment of that would be emmer&rye (1825 Queen Anne Ave., (206) 282-0680), where local, seasonal produce meets up with gently twee surroundings and the chef’s great touch with vegetables and makes you feel like you’re in a Wes Anderson movie. But The Royal Tenenbaums, not Fantastic Mr. Fox. Favorites: a cauliflower and kale salad, steamed clams with strips of bacon in their cooking liquid, a perfectly grilled strip of beef alongside rings of squash.

Steamer clams appetizer at emmer&rye

There was also the nearly impossible-to-find Walrus &  the Carpenter (4743 Ballard Ave., (206) 395-9227), named after the creepy rhyme in Alice & Wonderland (what oyster lover wants to imagine walking, talking, baby-like oysters? Terrible). Aside from the terrific seasonal mollusks (half off before 5pm), there are truly great non-oyster sides (which change from week to week) like grilled lamb’s tongue, steak tartare and the best deep-fried brussels sprouts this side of anywhere. An even cheaper oyster alternative is Jack’s Fish Spot at Pike Place Market, which serves great quilcene oysters ($1 a shell), plus a no-frills menu of chowder and crab cocktail.

Oysters at Jack's Fish Spot

Rancho Bravo Taqueria (at 45th St and 2nd Ave) is not technically a restaurant, but a food truck — too bad the cat’s out of the bag on this one, locals. Great burritos (get either “Rancho” with sour cream or “Bravo” without) stuffed with either the typical fillings or tripe or beef tongue (recommended) make the wait for your plate a lengthy one at lunchtime. Dick’s Drive-In (three throughout Seattle) is a lot quicker, but the menu’s more limited too; the “Deluxe” is a double-beef patty cheeseburger with all the traditional fixings. If you’re a breakfast person, you have your choice between the super Eggs Benedicts or corned beef hash at Glo’s (1621 East Olive Way, (206) 324-2577) or the pancakes or “migas” (it’s a sort of breakfast tortilla, not the Spanish dish “migas”) at Portage Bay Cafe (4130 Roosevelt Way, (206) 783-1547). Finally, there is a great non-meat alternative serving good, tasty food: Araya’s Place (the only kind of Thai I’ll eat in Seattle, since vegan Thai is impossible to find in Bangkok). Recommended: the tofu “larb” (1121 45th St., (206) 524-4332).

Araya's tofu larb

PORTLAND

What to say about Portland? I don’t know myself. Maybe I didn’t spend enough time here. Maybe I was disgruntled about the hugely long line outside of Voodoo Doughnuts. Maybe I just didn’t get it. But my time here was spotty. First, there were the towering pastrami or corned beef sandwiches and flavorful chopped liver at Kenny & Zuke’s Delicatessen (1038 Stark St., (503) 222-DELI). But then there was the overhyped, confused, and sometimes just plain too-salty fare at Castagna.

Kenny & Zuke's matzo ball soup

Did I have too many expectations of The Oregonian’s 2010 “Restaurant of the Year”? Of one of Food & Wine’s “Best New Chefs of 2010”? Maybe so. But while the matsutaka with shaved, pickled marrow and roasted elk loin were delicious, the pine curd and roasted chanterelles with boullion and tea-poached cardoons with smoked sturgeon powder were overly salted, conceptual messes. And I still don’t know what to think about the “pickles of today’s harvest” with cured scallops, which taste sort of like new car smell.

OREGON COAST

Ever have that feeling where you mentally slap yourself over and over again until you can’t feel anything anymore because you have gotten yourself into a stupid situation? No? It’s just me? Well, okay. Maybe it is just me. In any case, I must have done that about 1,000 times over the last five days, spent on this or that golf course, menacing deer and humans with various stray golf balls. The situation was mitigated somewhat by after-golf lunch, which became my highlight of the day. The best: Bandon Fish Market ( 249 1st St., Bandon, OR, (541) 347-4282), where the mascot may be a dead fish (unnerving) but the fish and chips are fresh and tasty — possibly the best I’ve had in a long while. Halibut is more flavorful and firmer than the traditional cod.

Cod fish & chips at Bandon Fish Market

The Pacific Northwest. What more to say about the Pacific Northwest? Shall I say I saw lots of people I really liked and had lots of fun despite the horrible, truly awful weather? Shall I say I enjoyed every meal, no matter where, because no matter what, the service was good and people still tried hard? Or shall I say I learned to stop blathering on because it solves nothing, and I believe in quality over quantity (obviously I’m lying)? This I’ll say: I have yet to be punched in the face. There’s still a chance, dear reader! Catch me if you can.

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Filed under beef, fish, food, Pacific Northwest, restaurant, seafood, United States

It’s not you, it’s me

Thai catfish with green mango salad at Chote Chitr

My husband bought me a painting for my birthday. On some days, it looks to me like the tumultuous juncture where the four elements meet, clash and learn to coexist (earth, fire, water, air). On other days, it looks like a chicken on fire. What I see varies from day to day, depending on what mood I’m in.

Similarly, there are some Thai restaurants that I simply do not “get”. Foodie darlings that get a pass for whatever they serve, thanks to the strength of a couple of specials, or the exclusivity of the surroundings, or the remarkable history. But the onus of “getting” them lies on me, rather than the other way around: I am feeling ill that day, or am in a bad mood, or whatever.

So it is with trepidation that I admit, I have never been able to bring myself to enjoy a meal at Thai institution Chote Chitr, which is nearly a century old. It’s not for lack of trying, on either my part or theirs. Unlike some other places that seem to coast on their reputations, Chote Chitr is sincere in its intentions (sincerity is a big thing for me): the food is made with care, the service is prompt and welcoming, there are no shortcuts. It is genuine home cooking. And it always shows, like in its well-crafted nam prik platu (shrimp paste chili dip with fried Thai mackerel and all the fixings) or well-thought-out specials (on our recent visit, a smashingly good tamarind-laced sour gaeng with mushrooms and deep-fried salted smelts).

Thom kong pla salid

But sometimes, and no offense to the lovely, lovely Tim Krachochouli and formidable Lucky and Nam Waan (her two dogs) — the food is too sweet. Even the nam prik, which I enjoyed, is too sweet. I know they don’t resort to using granulated sugar (the horror). I know everything is made from scratch. And I have as much respect for R.W. Apple as anyone. But it’s just too damn sweet. I can’t go to town on the food, because I know I’ll feel nauseated halfway through. That’s just the way it is. It’s my problem.

And yes, I know extreme sweetness is a necessary feature of the somehow-this-became-what-they-are-known-for mee krob (yeah yeah, flavored with a rare citrus fruit blah blah blah, I have tons of respect for Bob too). It’s my belief mee krob should be balanced by a spicy curry because each cancels the other out — it doesn’t work any other way. To eat it without thinking about this is sort of an example of what I mean when I say Thai food — as a whole — is getting too sweet in this city. It’s becoming an (admittedly superior) version of the sweetened Thai you find abroad. I blame the gradually Westernized palate in Bangkok (although mine is as Westernized as they come and … oh, never mind. Meatloaf, anyone?)

Chote Chitr's famous mee krob

I want to point out that it’s not that I don’t like Chote Chitr, because I do. It’s just that I like some other Thai restaurants better, and I don’t think they get as much attention. My favorites: lunchtime-only old-school joint Sanguansri (59/1 Wireless Rd., 02-252-7637), especially their kanom jeen (fermented rice noodle) dishes, or Sukhumvit standby Ruea Thong (351/2 Thonglor 17, 02-185-2610), which serves an awesome gaeng kua with marble-sized “exploding” mushrooms and a great nam prik made of ground peppercorns — a reminder of the pre-chili days before the Portuguese when the main spice in Thailand was pepper, or prik Thai. Also promising: the only week-old Soul Food Mahanakorn (56/10 Thonglor, 085-904-2691), which is built on a great idea (street food with air-conditioning and superb cocktails) but more on that some other time. I am zonked out on Dayquil (obviously) and can only ramble incoherently for so long.

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Filed under Asia, Bangkok, curries, fish, food, noodles, restaurant, seafood, Thailand