eatingCULTURE/tastes: Full English.

Opinions in eating.

A few weeks ago, a Cape Town food reviewer for the Mail & Guardian wrote about where to get a good breakfast in Cape Town. While he actually picked some fantastic spots, he kind of lost me when he stated that South Africa had ‘luckily’ inherited the tradition of the Full English Breakfast. I don’t know if I’d call that luck, really. While an English breakfast can be a fun late-morning binge every now and then, a big plateful of greasy meats, over cooked vegetables, and bland eggs is actually a rather unappetizing thing to be greeted with as you wake up. Perhaps worse, I find that the flavours of bacon and sautéed mushrooms mix terribly with coffee.

This came to mind recently while Bordeaux and I were on our little honeymoon in the Karoo. We were served a Full English Breakfast at our first guesthouse, and while they’d done an attractive job with the presentation, we both groaned with the thought of being served the exact same stodgy breakfast for every morning of the trip.

Thankfully, our other guesthouses came through for us. The hotel in Barrydale served a delicious vegetable frittata garnished with lots of crisp herbs and edible flowers—not only did it look beautiful, but it was really nice to start the day with something so fresh. Our guesthouse in Greyton gave us options: the Full English was there, but we opted instead for yogurt with muesli and fresh fruit. It’s simple, but it’s about my favourite way to start the day, really (and it goes perfectly with a cup of coffee).

There are so many great options for breakfast—pancakes, omelets, French toast, home-made granola, fruit salad, poached eggs, Dutch babies, salmon and crème freche with a little dill-- I don’t know why Full English is so popular. And it’s not that I’m opposed to red meat in the morning, either. A scramble of some eggs and boerewors (South African sausage) would at least be a fun local take on the Full English (A Full Afrikaner Breakfast?). Basically, I just think that a Full English is as uncreative as you get with breakfast—especially for a guesthouse. Part of traveling is experiencing different places –why not serve a breakfast that makes use of seasonal produce from the area, or unique local ingredients? Part of the fun of coming to New Mexico is waking up to blue corn pancakes—I bet there could be some fantastic breakfasts made to reflect the flavours of South Africa.

What’s your favourite breakfast? Have you ever had any really fantastic breakfasts while you were traveling?

eatingCULTURE/tastes: Eat your liver.

Opinions in eating.

Are there any foods you don't eat? Bordeaux and I have been cooking for other people quite often lately, so we've been finding out a lot about what different people won't eat: no egg, no basil, no cilantro, no tofu, no chili. In comparison, I tend to think of myself as really eating almost everything-- though every now and then, I do run up against something that I'm not exactly eager to try. Like liver.

Had I ever eaten liver before? I doubt it-- but somehow I got it into my head that I wouldn't like it, perhaps from some mass pop-culture aversion to the stuff. But my mission this year is to learn all about boerekos, and it's impossible to do that without at least eating a little liver. And really, I admire the eating of liver-- if you're going to eat an animal, it's more responsible to eat the whole animal.

So at an outdoor cafe in Pretoria, I ordered a simple meal of chicken livers on toast. The dark grey livers arrived in a small bowl, bathed in peri peri, a South African hot pepper sauce. I spread it on the toast, and gave it a try. I have to admit, my first taste was a little off-putting. The slightly metallic tang, the stodgy texture. But it grew on me-- despite its downsides, it has some rather redeeming qualities. It certainly has far more flavor than most meat, possesses a richer taste and complexity, and took on the spice of the peri peri well. I could certainly see ordering it again-- with less hesitation next time.

eatingCulture/tastes: Donuts.

Opinions in eating.

Are donuts the new cupcake?

The above is a picture of a lemon-pistachio donut I made over the weekend, trying to follow a recipe from San Francisco based Dynamo Donuts in the Dec/Jan issue of Readymade Magazine (the recipe isn't online). It is, unfortunately, the only donut pretty enough to photograph, as the project was a bit of a flop-- they didn't rise correctly, I had the wrong size of circle-cutter, I burnt a few of them in the oil. Oof. They still tasted good, for the most part-- although a little too lemony for me.

The rise of the donut might be the result of a few trends colliding-- the wane of the cupcake, the recession calling for a treat with less frills, and 'breakfast' being the restaurant trend of the year (according to Bon Appetit, anyway). I certainly like the American-ness of the treat, though I have to admit, most donuts aren't very good-- way too sugary, no flavor. But the same is true of most cupcakes, unless they're well made. I imagine a well made donut with creative flavors could actually be pretty good. Can anyone recommend a good donut place?

On the subject of breakfast, be sure to check out my boyfriend's blog this week, as he attempts a new breakfast for every day of the week. I just completed Day 1, a stack of buttermilk pancakes with berry syrup. Yum.

Julia versus Anthony.

Does good food-writing have a gender?

One of my goals for 2009 is to develop my skills at writing about food; toward that end, I've been trying to read more food writing by a diverse selection of writers, chefs, and restaurant reviewers. And in early days of this process, I seem to have struck on something: I don't like male food writing.

To explain what is probably an unfair generalization, let me compare two very different works: My Life in France by Julia Child, and A Cook's Tour by Anthony Bourdain.

I completed My Life in France last week, and though the book was almost entirely set in France (a country that doesn't particularly interest me much), and while the stories are all about French food (which I'm not crazy about), I enjoyed the book. I started A Cook's Tour two days ago, and though the book is set in many countries around the world (several of which really interest me), and it covers both Vietnamese and Cambodian cuisine (both of which I strongly enjoy), I'm having trouble pushing myself to get past the third chapter. The difference, I think, is in their attitudes toward food.

In My Life in France, Julia describes how she developed a deep love and passion for the culture and cuisine of Franceover a decade living in Paris and Marseille. Food plays a prominent role in every chapter, as her husband introduces her to the flavors of France, as she comes to know Paris through its bistros and food artisans, and as she cooks staggering meals in her awkward kitchen. She is always eating, but it's not just about the food; it is a means of connecting to others, and of experiencing the world.

In A Cook's Tour, Anthony sets out around the world in search of 'the perfect meal.' I'd been curious to read it for a long time, but it didn't take me long to lose any interest. When, in the introduction, he attempts to evoke the experience of good food by comparing it to 'Your first taste of champagne on a woman's lips' and 'a few beads of caviar, licked off a nipple', I went beyond getting the heebie-jeebies to just being put off the book entirely. I don't think it's just this hetero-normative moment that turned me off though-- it's his writing style, his voice that annoys me. In the first chapter, he witnesses a pig being slaughtered for his consumption; it's a 'challenge' for him, but one he gets past. Things get much worse in the third chapter, in which he arrives in Vietnam. He stumbles around a Saigon market, alternating gorging himself on local foods, and casting an oggling glance at some local schoolgirls. Aside from just kind of thinking of him as kind of a creep (I picked the above photo selectively), I don't like the way he establishes his relationship with food. Food seems either an object of lust to be conquered, or a challenge that he is determined to master. Really, I'm sure he has a very healthy appreciation of food, and he's likely an incredible cook (this isn't something personal about Anthony Bourdain-- if I was going to get personal, I'd suggest the photos of him in the book make him a perfect candidate for this website)-- but I find his style of writing about food fairly repulsive.

What I came down to feeling was this: Julia's relationship with food is one of appreciation; Anthony's relationship with food comes across as one of domination.

Ok, now here's where my comparison might become a generalization. This seems to be a difference in male and female voices in food writing. With the exception of a few male-authored food and travel blogs that I enjoy (and hey, I don't think I'm so bad), I almost exclusively read blogs written by women. I got really sick of a few food blogs written by men where every entry seemed to be 'I have found the BEST version of this dish in the world'-- always seeming like there was something to prove, like eating was always some sort of challenge. With definite exceptions, the food blogs by women that I enjoy are much more about the experience of food-- evoking the setting, the flavors, and the people who make the meal important. Writing about eating is less about challenging others, and more about sharing with others.

As examples, here's an incredible piece about marshmallows by Molly Wizenberg for Bon Apetit-- it gives background on the treat, poetically describes the sensation of eating, while simultaneously evoking the human side of cooking-- and this articles on sup cua by Robyn of Eating Asia -- it not only makes you feel like you can practically taste the fresh cilantro garnishing the soup, but it gives a lucid picture of the setting in which it was enjoyed.

Anyway, I'm not done reading A Cook's Tour-- maybe I'll be turned around by the last chapter. In the meantime, do you have any favorite food writers? Any male writers to restore faith in my gender?

Five Plates of Yellow Crab Curry.

Since coming to Southeast Asia, I've been introduced to many new flavors and exciting dishes. As a result, the position of "favorite food" has gone through a lot of contenders. Massaman curry, haw mok, meang kham, dragonfruit, and squid with cashew nut have all held the top spot. My current favorite food is poo phat phong karii, yellow crab curry. It's an unbelievably tasty dish, and with its roots in Chinese cooking and Indian ingredients, it perfectly reflects Southeast Asia's diverse influences. Unlike most Thai curries, this dish uses curry powder- the result is a slightly lighter, though still rich dish.

1. I ate my first bowl of yellow crab curry for dinner on my 25th birthday, perhaps foreshadowing to the degree to which I would grow to love this dish. I was in Phnom Penh, and my boyfriend took me to the FCC for dinner. Though delicious, the dish didn't immediately get me hooked. The emphasis on their version (pictured at top of page) was more on the spicy leaves, which to some degree dominated the flavor of the meal.

2. My second dish came just a few weeks ago, at our beach-side hotel in Prachuap Khiri Khan. We had initially shrugged off the idea of eating dinner at our guesthouse, but once on the beach we decided that it might just be the easiest way to relax. The hotel's manager arranged for dinner to be delivered from a nearby restaurant, and when we arrived at the dinner table we were amazed by the spread. There was a whole crispy fried fish, a rich and spicy tom yum koong, a sweet and savory seafood stir-fryed cashew nuts, and a platter of yellow crab curry. Everything was delicious- the tum yum koong was the most flavorful I've ever had, and the seafood stir-fry had a number of creative ingredients, like sweet dates and crisp water chestnuts. But it was the yellow crab curry that left me stunned- fitting, since Prachuap Khiri Khan is famous for their crab.


3. A few weeks later, Bordeaux took me for Sunday lunch at a dark corner restaurant here in Bangkok. The dish (pictured above) wasn't much to look at, but it was extremely rich and flavorful, with more emphasis on the curry sauce than on the flavor of the vegetables.

4. Some friends of Bordeaux's came to town, and for dinner they decided to go to the Mango Tree- an attractive outdoor restaurant near Silom that caters to a mix of gay and straight tourists. The tables were strewn around an open house and a large garden, which was cluttered with Thai antiques. After reading some reviews of the restaurant online that stated that the kitchen staff tone down the spiciness of their dishes, I had come prepared for bland food and high prices. The prices were certainly high, but thankfully the food wasn't bland at all. The huge menu had a wide range of interesting Thai dishes- and though I came close to ordering a salad that was within my teacher's salary range, thankfully I eventually splurged on the yellow crab curry. The dish was unbelievable- by far the best I've had. The crab was tender, and the herbs and Chinese celery added a nice sharp note to the otherwise creamy curry.

5. The next day, I was looking for lunch on a market soi near my school when I came across a large pot of yellow crab curry (pictured below). The dish looked beautiful: red-and-white pebbled crabs and fresh vegetables, bathed in a creamy yellow sauce. The flavor, however, was unbelievably bland. To some degree, I was relieved- I might have had some regret had I paid several times more for the same dish the night before. Though I think finding a cheap, delicious yellow crab with curry three minutes walk from my schol would have made up for that.

Anyone else know where I can get a good dish of yellow crab curry?