Easing Back In

August 18, 2014 Rivka

We've just returned from a week at the beach, full of silky sand and mid-afternoon beach chair dozes and lots of home-cooked meals. As anticipated, the bounce-back to real life is taking its time. We got back from Saturday lunch both ready to crash - what, we can't take catnaps every day? - and the home fridge is still empty enough that there's nothing begging to be cooked. I think this is what they call easing back in.

I'd love to give you a full write-up of where to go in Hilton Head, and what to do, but we went to none of those places, did none of that stuff. Instead, we cooked all our meals at home, basically owned the beach, and let the brain cells uncoil. It was glorious.

We biked the trails and strolled the beach at sunset. I made four pies. Could we be more cliche? I don't care.

I'm in too much of a haze to share an actual recipe today, but I will share a couple links that are perfect for this moment in summer.

This moment, for me, is about tomatoes and peaches. So first things first: make this deep-dish peach crumb pie, from Melissa Clark. You will love the crumb topping, and also the satisfied silence you hear from people who cannot accuse you of not making enough pie, because this is so much pie.

Next, when you're ready for a cleanse, make this tomato lassi from Food52, but swap out those mangoes for top-of-season peaches or nectarines. If you don't have sumac, it's okay: substitute lemon juice, or pomegranate syrup, or something else that's sweet-tart. Make a double, store it in a big jar in the fridge, and you have tomorrow's post-work snack.

Lastly, if you return from a week away to an exploding herb garden (such a problem! said no one), make this sage-pistachio pesto (I like to add some pecorino but it's not necessary) or this mint-pistachio pesto or this lovely walnut pesto, with either basil, parsley, or both. Then spoon it into small containers and stow it away for a cold winter's dinner.

I'll be back later this week with a recipe.

Getaways: Berlin

February 3, 2014 Rivka

We spent nearly two weeks in Berlin at the beginning of January. It's a funny thing, going on vacation to a very cold country in a very cold season. For the bulk of the twelve days, we were extremely cold. Think numb fingers and toes, brief peeps at the outdoors under gobs of scarf and hat. I'm not someone you'd call a trouper - just ask my travel companions! - and in at least half of our pictures, I'm the one jumping up and down in the corner of the frame, trying to stay warm. Still, there's something kind of magical about traveling to a city in the off-season. It felt truer, somehow, to experience Berlin at a time when most of the people "experiencing" the city weren't tourists, but residents.

And it's worth mentioning that what we found to be cold was actually quite mild for Berlin: highs of 8° C, lows of maybe -2°? Nothing compared to the -20° C they put up this time last year. So we'll take it.

In many ways, I'm still processing our experience. On one hand, this was a vacation. It was a chance to get away from busy jobs and cold winter (well, in theory?) and experience a city we've both long wanted to visit. We ate great food, drank fantastic and embarrassingly cheap beer, visited countless museums, and took in every ounce of Berlin. On the other hand, this was also a trip about experiencing Germany's past. D's uncle was born in a Bomberg DP camp back in 1947. I don't think her family has been back since then. Germany memorializes the victims of World War II in many ways, and we spent several days of our trip really steeping ourselves in this period of German history. We also spent a day in Worms, where we visited the oldest Jewish cemetery in Europe, and a day in Heidelberg, where we visited the Rabbinical college there. We saw the Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie (the historical checkpoint between East and West Berlin), the old Reichstag building, which housed the German parliament before the war. In many ways, this trip was a study in the stark contrast of the old and the new.

While in Berlin, we stayed at a little hotel on Auguststraße in Mitte, which is German for "middle" and definitely at the center of (at least some of) the action. Mitte has great, hipster-approved coffee, and tons of little galleries and chi-chi clothing shops. It has a charcuterie station and wow, so many little beer bars, and of course, bakeries for every hour of the day. (Literally: 6 AM on Sunday, when the whole world of Berlin is asleep, there is one blessed little bakery that is open for business and has all the quart donuts you could need at 6 AM on a Sunday.)

Our favorite coffee of the trip was from The Barn, which we visited most every morning. Their cafe was just a couple blocks from our hotel (and their roastery was a 15 minute walk away). The space is sweet and small, the coffee is perfectly brewed - much lighter and cleaner than what the hipsters brew in the States - and the sandwiches, on craggy baguette, loaded with good meat or cheese and lovely little gherkins, are just the thing to tuck in the sack for a day's worth of touring. That's just what we did.

We spent lots of time just walking around. Berlin has enough architecture to keep one busy for weeks. We tried to take in as much as we could.

My vacation rules are strict, and one of them involves many, many pastries. I ate lots of wonderful pastries on this trip, and most of my favorites came from Balzer Bäckerei. In a trendy neighborhood like Mitte, Balzer is stubbornly untrendy in the best possible way. It has lace curtains on the doors, dim yellow lighting like in your Grandma's house, morning coffee from a thermos, but boy, the best pastries ever. Its owner and baker is still there most mornings. Over the eight-ish times I visited, I was helped either by her or by the one other baker at Balzer. Both are probably in their seventies; neither speaks a lick of English. There was a lot of pointing, nodding, smiling, counting, then biting, chewing, cooing, gushing, and making a big thumbs up, to approval and gracious nods by the ladies behind the counter. Our little system worked well.

Before we left, D made a commitment to consume at least half of her calories in beer form. Not sure we hit that goal, but we came close, thanks to two spots around the corner from home. One, Schwartzwaldstuben (try pronouncing that beast of a word!), serves food from Germany's Black Forest (that's what "Schwartzwald" means), and of course, plenty of beer. Mismatched furniture plus helpful bartenders who taught me to pronounce the German word for cake (that's not "kutchen" but rather "KOOOOOcccchhhhen"): what more could a girl want?

At some point I wanted more beer and different beer and really good brats and sauerkraut, and that's all what led us to another place on the opposite corner, Aufsturz. Great (long!) beer list, very friendly, helpful servers, and really, one of the best brats I had in Berlin. No frills, just a straight-up good bar.

One evening, I found myself on my own and without much of an agenda. D and our friends were in the center of town, and I decided to skip out and take it easy - but suddenly I was hungry, and craving some German Riesling. So I ducked into Lokal, which does modern riffs on German classics and which apparently is having a major moment right now. It took many friendly glances and big wide smiles to charm the bar tender into squeezing me in at the bar. And guys? He was the sweetest. He took control, walked me through the (all-German) menu, and even poured me a glass of late-harvest Riesling to go with my dessert, on the house. I loved it there.

I also loved Oliv, a little cafe on Münzstraße with great flat whites, quiche, and pastries. It's also the home of that funny neon "Stupido" sign pictured above. J'adore.

Our days in Worms and Heidelberg weren't too shabby, either. We toured the castle, walked around town, ate pretzels and drank more beer. Not a terrible way to spend a couple of chilly days.

And how could I wait this long to share one of the true highlights of my trip? I met up with the lovely Luisa Weiss, of The Wednesday Chef. Guys, they don't come any sweeter or more charming than Luisa. And it was such fun to finally meet in person, considering how long we've been blog buddies. Such a thrill!

Luisa armed us with some wonderful recommendations for the afternoon. We headed out to her neighborhood, Charlottenburg, in the west, where we popped into two beautiful art galleries before grabbing yet more hefeweizen and spaetzle (amazing spaetzle, with ridiculously good beef stew) at Engelbecken, a neighborhood gem. Clearly very popular, late Friday afternoon every table had a "reserved" card on it. We convinced them to let us eat quickly before the smarties with reservations arrived, and I'm so glad we did. Luisa, it was delicious. Thank you!

What more can I tell you? Berlin and I got along very well. We all just loved the city, and we can't wait to return.

In case you have plans to head to Berlin, I've put together a handy map of the highlights of our visit, which I hope you find helpful. I didn't even mention the two consecutive Saturdays we spent at Hackescher Market, a lovely outdoor flea in Mitte, which includes craft vendors, raw food, and plenty of cooked things. My favorites were the gozleme, Turkish flatbread, cooked on a huge dome and stuffed with spinach, feta, and spicy sauce. I also loved the okra and broad beans in tomato that so many of the Turkish vendors were selling. Don't miss Hackescher Market. Here's the map:

View Berlin in a larger map

Alright folks, I could go on and on. Suffice it to say that we'll be back in Berlin one of these days, hopefully in summer, when the weather is warm and the city moves outside. For now, I'm still thinking about all that beer....and making my second batch of homemade sauerkraut. Stay tuned.

Summer Berry Eton Mess

July 8, 2013 Rivka

We're fresh off the plane from London and I have so much to tell you that I honestly cannot figure out where it all begins. Do I start high, with pictures and bits from our unbelievably delicious meal at Nopi? Do I tell you about the day I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner at Indian restaurants? There's so much to discuss. I already feel like we need more time.

Let me first say this: I didn't expect to love London. For all the claims that it's better than New York - you know I love New York - I was sure my heart would stay with Manhattan, even after crossing the pond. London, I had been told, was rainy and cold. It was expensive. And more than a few friends warned me that the food wasn't worth much excitement.

But people, I loved London. Of course I loved the accents - so civilized! so grand! - and the dress - much more refined than our stateside attire, I'm afraid - but I really, really adored the food.

British food used to mean fish'n'chips and beer. For the record, we ate plenty of those. But we also found our way to the mecca that is Borough Market, where hipster-clad folks pull fantastic espresso, sell homemade charcuterie, and serve up the best plate of raclette I've ever seen.

I expected a rather staid attitude toward food in London, but I encountered quite the opposite. In fact, roaming through Marylebone on the weekend, I passed by a folding table on which a farmer from Kent and his son had set up a pop-up shop selling what were, simply put, the best strawberries and the best cream I've ever eaten.

And then, of course, there were the more expected pleasures. In planning our trip across the pond, I focused on two food groups. One was Indian food. Everyone says London has the best, and I planned to put that claim to the test. I made sure that plenty of dosas, curries, and chaat were on the week's agenda.

If I'm being completely honest, the curry houses I unearthed - via a quite comprehensive online search and a lot of asking - were good, but not the best. We had some really good samosa, great bhel puri, and memorable aloo gobi. But the baingan bartha, saag paneer, and dosa left something to be desired. If folks have better recommendations -- because yes, there will be a next time -- please do leave a comment below.

So what was the other major food group? That would be Ottolenghi. Yes, the Ottolenghi food group. Not familiar with that one? A quick search on this site reveals nearly 10 recipes from his collection of wonderful cookbooks, and I'm sure there are more lurking around. Between Plenty, Jerusalem, and the original Ottolenghi, I've cooked dozens of his recipes, and I'm a more skilled and creative cook as a result. So the chance to try some of his five locations across London wasn't something I could pass up. We went to two of his restaurants, and quite frankly, we were blown away. Ottolenghi is famous for his salads, which sit high and mighty on a long table, ready to dish up at lunch or dinner. They are as glorious as the ones in his books, and eating them prepared by an expert is a truly memorable experience. And as for Nopi, his newest location and more of a fancy, sit-down situation, we spent most of the meal with our mouths agape at the exquisite surroundings, the incredible continuity of the room and each little detail contained within. The food was also amazing. You have to go.

One of the most memorable bits I ate at Nopi was dessert. Can we briefly establish that picking a best was very hard? The asparagus and samphire salad was unbelievable and in just a few days back at home, I've already tried to replicate it twice. But the dessert was a pitch-perfect Eton mess, and I've been dreaming about it ever since. And now, you can make it at home.

Eton mess is a traditional British dessert, and everything in it is something you probably love: strawberries, meringue, and clouds of whipped cream. For Eton mess, these three wonderful things are piled unceremoniously into a large glass, where they mix and mingle into a dessert far greater than the sum of its parts. Tuck in with a spoon and get a bit of each, further blurring the lines between components with each spoonful until by the end, you've got a vaguely pink mash of sweet, crunchy, creamy goodness. It's perfect, unfussy food for summer.

At Nopi the night we were there, I ordered the rhubarb Eton mess, which had bits of silky cooked rhubarb and other bits that were macerated, but nearly raw. I loved that combination of soft and crunchy. Traditional Eton mess is made with strawberries, which are mostly over for the year. I still had one small box of strawberries left, so I added them to a pile of raspberries, and the combination was perfect. If you have rhubarb, I offer instructions below for using it. Otherwise, I bet cherries would be lovely. Any summer berry will work well here.

Happy July, folks. Stay cool.

Summer Berry Eton MessAdapted from recipes by April Bloomfield, yet another Brit worth celebrating Serves 4
I spent an afternoon making cheese with Cathy last month, and she convinced me that I made a mistake not buying Bloomfield's new book, A Girl and Her Pig. When I borrowed it from the library, it seemed like too many of the recipes contained pork, which I don't use in my kitchen. (The title may have suggested as much, too.) In any event, Cathy is right about most things and this was no exception. She lent me her copy, and I've been cooking from it ever since. (Cathy, it's coming back to you soon - promise!)
Bloomfield has a way with peculiar, particular instructions. For her Eton mess, she has you macerate strawberries in almost a dozen ingredients before adding them to the mix. I winnowed down her list for simplicity because it's summer in DC, not summer in London. It's too hot to fuss. The result, though, is no less splendid. This is a dessert that will evoke wide, teeth-baring grins from anyone who eats it. Sorry for the cliche, but it's a party in your mouth.
One more thing: if you don't want to make your own meringue, you'll lose that crispy-chewy thing, but you'll save a hell of a lot of time. No judgment here.
For the meringue: 3 egg whites, carefully (perfectly!) separated from their yolks 1/2 cup sugar zest of 1/2 a lemon
For the berries: 2 pints berries of any sort (I like a mixture of raspberries and strawberries) zest of 1/2 a lemon 2 tablespoons lemon juice 2 tablespoons sugar 2 grinds of the pepper mill
(If using rhubarb, mix a pound of rhubarb with 1/4 cup sugar and 2 tablespoons water and put into a baking dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes, until the rhubarb has softened but not lost its shape. Cool completely.)

For the mess: 1 cup heavy cream 1 teaspoon sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla or the seeds from 1 vanilla bean

Make the meringues:Preheat the oven to 225 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or silpat.

Beat the egg whites and sugar in a clean large stainless steel bowl or a stand mixer until the mixture holds very stiff, shiny peaks, 4 to 5 minutes. Gently fold in the lemon zest.

Spoon the mixture into 6 equal mounds on the lined baking sheet. Bake the meringue until it’s dry and crunchy on the outside but still soft and chewy inside, about 1 1/2 hours. Let it cool, preferably in the oven turned off but also fine on the counter.

Macerate the berries: Combine all the ingredients in a large bowl, stir gently to combine, cover with plastic wrap, and let sit on the counter while the meringues cook, stirring every so often to encourage juices to seep out.

Assemble the mess: Whip the cream, vanilla, and sugar together until the cream holds semi-stiff peaks. Crumble the meringues into a large mixing bowl; you should have a combination of small crumbles, medium pieces, and large chunks. Add the whipped cream and stir gently just until the meringue pieces are coated. Add about three-quarters of the berries (or rhubarb) and their liquid and stir very gently just until the berries are well distributed but you still see streaks of red in the white cream.
Carefully scoop the mixture into bowls, scatter the remaining berries on top, and drizzle on the rest of the liquid. Serve straight away.

Getaways: Thailand

March 11, 2013 Rivka

Remember that post I wrote back in January about our trip to Vietnam? Well, there was a second half to that trip. After traipsing around Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi for a week, we flew over to Chiang Mai and spent a week exploring Thailand. I figured I'd tell you about the trip in stages, because gosh, there's so much to tell. But then January was a crazy month, and February was, too, and before I knew it, it was March. (Can you believe it's March?) Well, now I'm finally back. I've gotten emails from quite a few of you asking for the details of this half of my trip – it seems there are quite a few of you who are planning trips to Thailand – so, without further ado, here are some vignettes from week 2. Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai is a small city in northern Thailand, and it’s the starting point for many of the treks, bike trips, and other activities in the north. It’s a bit of a hippie town, with enough yoga studios to hit a different one every day for weeks. However, it’s also a tremendous food city, with plenty of hole-in-the-wall establishments that serve the unique food of northern Thailand.

Gat Luang We started our first day in Chiang Mai by walking from the center of the city to just beyond its northeastern edge, to explore the neighborhood and markets of Gat Luang. We first learned about Gat Luang from Robyn Echhardt and David Hagerman, intrepid travelers of Asia and masterminds of the Eating Asia blog. Eating Asia was an invaluable resource to us throughout our trip, and Robyn graciously answered many little questions via twitter across those two weeks.

While in Chiang Mai, Robyn and David adopt Gat Luang as their home base. They’ve spent many weeks and months exploring the food markets of Gat Luang and getting to know their vendors. They’ve written extensively about two markets in particular: Warorot market and Don Lam Yai market. We visited both.

Before even getting to the prepared food, I became fixated on the fruit. Warorot has rows and rows of vendors displaying every type of dried or preserved fruit imaginable: kiwis, three kinds of mangos, five kinds of plums, cherries, gooseberries, and others I didn’t even recognize.

There were quite a few stalls selling nothing but chili paste. If I knew any Thai at all, I’d have asked about the difference between the various barrels. Instead, we went and grabbed donuts:

Fritters are ubiquitous at both Warorot and Dom Lam Yai. Robyn and David wrote about one vendor who makes fritters in the shape of dragons, but his stall closed before we arrived. Still, we managed to eat more than our fair share.

And when we’d eaten a belly full of donuts, we moved onto Thai sweets – mostly glutenous rice-based confections in funky pastel colors – that Robyn and David listed as a must-try:

This woman was hard at work when we finally found her stall, Khanom Thai Bandai, which makes fantastic Thai sweets. We took one bite, shook our heads, decided we were too full to enjoy, and stowed them away for later.

We couldn’t leave the market without grabbing a container of sticky rice, half topped with sweet, sweet mango and half topped with fantastic custard:

And okay, we also ate just one grilled banana. How could we resist? Thai bananas are so small and sweet, and when they sit on the grill for a long while, they get even softer and sweeter:

But then we had to stop. My god, we were so stuffed. So we just browsed the shops, with their beautifully patterned tablecloths, gooseberries and poppy seeds, dragon fruit and strawberries, and more:

At the end of our walk, we found a small stall in the external part of the market selling steamed sweet coconut and rice pancakes filled with coconut cream. Natch, we got a basket of them. Yes, we ate them all. They were outstanding, and I feel pretty confident we could make them at home. I’m looking for a recipe.

If you’re ever in Chiang Mai, don’t miss Gat Luang. The neighborhood clearly has such a rich history, and the food – fresh, raw, cooked, preserved – is not to be missed.

Toward the end of the day, we passed by a man riding a bike with a large food cart attached to the end. (Bikes seem to be the main mode of food transport for food vendors, and possibly other vendors, in SE Asia. In fact, bikes apparently are a common mode of transport in other parts of Asia as well: Slate just published a fantastic photo series of China’s bike peddlers that you absolutely must check out.) This one peddler was selling bubble tea and juice in little plastic bags, again, a very common way to package and purchase individual servings of food and drink:

At night, Chiang Mai’s main drag transforms into a “walking street,” or street fair. Artists, food vendors, live music, the whole shebang. We browsed, bought baby gifts, and ate this fantastic som tam:

Som tam is green papaya salad. “Tam” means “to pound,” and the Thai make their som tam in a mortar and pestle, pounding shreds of firm green papaya with dried fish, green beans, cherry tomatoes, and peanuts. The whole thing is dressed with a fiery mixture of fish sauce, lime, sugar, and chiles. When you eat som tam, you start to sweat from all that chile, addictive balance of sweet and sour makes you keep on eating. The som tam I had at Chiang Mai’s walking street also had raw slices of tiny green eggplant, which made it substantial enough for dinner.

Biking from Chiang Mai to Chiang Rai

After a few days exploring Chiang Mai, we spent the better part of a week riding on bikes from Chiang Mai up to Chiang Rai. The trip was organized by Spice Roads, which offers various bike tours across Asia. We spent five days riding through the hills, farm lands, and coastal roads of the north, occasionally riding along the Burmese border. The trip was a fantastic way to see parts of the country we otherwise would have missed, and it gave us license to eat as much of northern Thailand’s incredible food as we wanted. I can’t recommend Spice Roads highly enough.

Our guide, Noom, grew up in a family of farmers, so he frequently pulled off the road to show us some of his favorite indigenous plants. One in particular has leaves with sap like glycerin, and if you peel the leaf open just so, you can blow bubbles from the sap:

On the first day, we stopped only a few hours in to have lunch at a natural park. The view? Not too shabby.

If you were to eat at a restaurant at a natural park in the US, you’d probably “feast” on hot dogs, potato chips, and Coke. The natural park in Chiang Mai had a full menu, and when we told them to bring us a bunch of their favorite dishes, here’s what landed on our table:

That top dish was one of the best things I ate across our two-plus weeks away. It’s a salad of crispy Thai herbs tossed with cashews and tamarind dressing. Look carefully: that platter had heaping handfuls of kaffir lime leaves, used like lettuce. In the US, kaffir leaves cost $5 for three. The bowl also had sprigs of fresh green peppercorns, fried to a crisp. It had morning glory and holy basil and Thai mustard leaf and many other herbs I didn’t recognize. And that dressing! Sweet and sour and very spicy. Totally addictive.

The crispy fish quickly became D’s go-to dish. She ordered it probably 7 or 8 times across the trip. It’s a whole fish, deep fried, and served with sticky rice and spicy green chile sauce. Again, addictive. I could eat this meal every day for weeks. Um, that’s kind of what we did.

One early morning on our bike ride, we found ourselves very near the village where our guide grew up. Lucky for us, we also were there during the two weeks each year when bamboo trees are young enough to harvest and cook. There’s a small shed in our guide’s home town where two women make a special delicacy whose name I unfortunately don’t know, but apparently the shed is famous for miles, and people travel a long way to get these treats while they’re in season.

Tender bamboo shoots are cut into segments and stuffed with a mixture of sticky rice, coconut milk, and red beans. The ends of the shoots are stopped up with hay, and then the shoots are left to cook in front of an open fire. As the shoots brown, the rice inside cooks up.

Once the browned shoots have cooled slightly, the tough outer stalks of the shoot are cut away, revealing a perfectly cooked log of sweet, smoky, sticky rice studded with red beans:

Watching these women move seamlessly back and forth between the flame and the pile of bamboo shreds, tending and turning, cleaving and peeling, all while never saying a word: it was really quite magical. Truly one of the highlights of our time up north.

We spent our final evening of the bike trip at a resort accessible only by water. The next day, after a short boat ride to shore and a three-hour jaunt by bike to the highway, we were done. Sak, our driver, picked us up and drove us the ten minutes to Chiang Rai, where we stopped for lunch and watched a very talented woman cook up four plates of pad thai to order:

With the bike trip behind us, we headed to Bangkok.

Bangkok

People told me I wouldn’t like Bangkok. They said it’s basically a big city with lots of pollution and not much that’s special about it. Having spent 4 days there, I couldn’t disagree more. The food alone is enough to make it worth a trip.

In our first two hours in Bangkok, I managed to discover a dish with which I would subsequently become so obsessed, I’d go through approximately 20 test rounds to recreate it at home: yam som-o, Thai pomelo salad:

This stuff is the stuff of dreams. I’ve waxed poetic about it here, so I’ll spare you another ode. Suffice it to say, you’ve got to either get yourself to Bangkok, or make my recipe at home. Preferably both.

We also quickly discovered fried bananas, another memorable snack of the trip. Pieces of banana are wrapped in a dough of rice flour and black sesame seeds, then fried. The rice flour makes the dough super crispy, and the bananas get all soft and sweet. They’re so addictive, I’m pretty glad you can’t get them in DC.

We took a weekend tour of some of Bangkok’s best food stalls with a company called Bangkok Street Food Tours. The experience was a bit on the touristy side, but it was an easy way to sample Bangkok’s rich food heritage. The view from our escalator down to the street looked really promising:

And what came next proved worth the hype. We started with Thai duck, prepared a lot like Peking duck: crisp-skinned, with loads of flavorful broth – but this time, with plenty of pickled ginger and cucumbers on the side. Unbelievable.

They even had a special plate of vegetarian noodles for D, which she loved.

Over the course of the day, we tried Massaman egg curry, whose sauce was spicy and loaded up with turmeric and curry. We had plenty of som tam (even some packaged in plastic bags for the road) and washed everything down with Thai iced tea (also in bags!). The tour was a great way to spend the morning, and I’d highly recommend it.

But you’ll learn even more – eat even more – if you have a friend in the know. In our case, though we came to Bangkok entirely alone, thanks to the wonders of Twitter, we made a friend while in town. Her name is Chawadee Nualkhair, and she writes the fantastic blog “Bangkok Glutton” about food in BKK. Chawadee literally wrote the book on Bangkok’s top food stalls, which served as an indispensable resource for our trip. Chawadee also happens to be exceedingly generous with her time, so on Saturday night, we met up with her in Chinatown, and she took us around to some of her favorite spots.

Late in the evening, we stopped at this little spot in an alleyway, where an old couple makes some of the best fish soup we had across the two weeks. Here’s the son, cutting up big hunks of fresh sea bass:

And here’s the end of the bowl we happily shared:

If we spent most of our time with Chawadee eating hyper-authentic Thai food, our last stop was anything but. With a giggle, Chawadee grabbed a cab and took us to this place that literally had a line of gabbing teenagers out the door. What was it serving? Toast. No, seriously:

This place makes toast, tops it with something delicious (coconut caramel; chocolate; cinnamon-sugar; etc) and sells it for 20 baht a pop. The kids love it. We thought it was hysterical, in a “why did we just pay for this?” kind of way. But also a “wow, this is pretty delicious” kind of way. I’ll tell you one thing – caramel-covered toast makes a great nightcap.

Lest I make it seem like all we did for 2 weeks was eat, we did see some pretty beautiful temples and other sights while we were in town. What most struck me about the temples we saw was that from far away, they looked as grand as this:

But that when you get up close, they are as ornate as this:

And there are people whose job is to literally hand paint the various sculptures as bits and pieces of their paint start to chip:

The maintenance of temples alone must be a huge industry.

We also loved exploring the Jim Thompson house, a gorgeous, traditional Thai-style house built and decorated by the man who made his money by importing Thai silks across the world. There are folks still onsite spinning silk today:

All in all, it was a magical trip in so many ways.

But what really won my heart at the end of the day, of course, was the food. In case it wasn’t obvious, we also ate our weight in mango:

And noodles, of all varieties:

And pomegranate juice:

And so, so much more. I’d go back in a heartbeat. Bangkok is fast-paced and modern, but still totally different than anything we’re used to experiencing in the US. For those of you planning trips (I know there are quite a few), I’ve included some links at the bottom of this post to help get you started. Please, please leave comments if you’ve been or are planning to go. I’d love to hear what you did; consider it fodder for my next trip!

Links

In Chiang Mai, we loved our stay at Oasis Baan Saen Doi. It’s a resort in a sleepy neighborhood outside the city, and they offer a free shuttle service to town every day. If you’re only in town for a couple days, you might want to stay in the center of the city. But if you’re looking for somewhere to truly get away, I can’t imagine a more peaceful and relaxing place to take in Chiang Mai.

Massages in Chiang Mai run about $10 per hour – a total steal. We got one every day, at whatever small shop looked open. There are hundreds of options and they’re all basically the same. However, if you’re up for spending American prices and want to go somewhere totally and completely indulgent, the Tamarind Village Spa will not disappoint.

Spice Roads was the company that organized our bike trip, and I can’t recommend them highly enough. We also looked into Grasshopper Adventures, and while their dates didn’t work with our itinerary, I’ve heard great things about them, as well.

When eating in Chiang Mai, it’s hard to go wrong. Even the mediocre restaurants serve good food. That said, the food can be truly outstanding if you know where to look.

Everyone everywhere will recommend Huen Phen (also spelled Hue Phen). It's in the middle of the old city and historically, it was where the locals had lunch. Unfortunately, it's now totally touristy. There are still a lot of Thais there, but what I heard from a Thai food blogger is that most of those Thais are tourists, too. He said that Chiang Mai residents eat elsewhere. We went there and had a really average meal.

We had great meal at Pun Pun, which serves local, organic food, and Kuhn Churn, which was all vegetarian and no less flavorful for it. Start your adventures there.

Also, you must have khao soi. It is hauntingly good, and it's everywhere. Austin Bush's favorite place is Khao Soi Prince.

In Bangkok, if you’ve got the stomach for a hot, stuffy, crowded market, definitely go to Chatuchak weekend market. I think it’s the largest market in Asia, and it’s got everything from fresh fruit and made-to-order noodles to stuffed squirrels (for decoration). Or so we hear: we lasted there about 30 minutes before turning around and going home. Ahh, well; can’t do everything.

One spot in Bangkok that we would never have found on our own, but loved, was Jay Fai. We ordered as we were told: pad kee mau, lard na talay, and kai jiew pu. Everything was delicious. It’s got weird hours, so poke around online or in Chawadee’s book (soon to be updated!) before going.

Also try Rungruaeang, which has amazing noodles in tom yum broth (bamee tom yum). No website, but I think the address is Sukhumvit 26.

Lastly, if you’re looking for a place to sit and have a nicer (but still inexpensive) meal, I’d really recommend Soul Food. Chawadee’s friend owns the place; it’s a bit like something you’d find in Brooklyn. Food mostly local and organic; meats and spreads all made in-house; that sort of thing. We had a really wonderful meal there, and the drinks were excellent (and cheap).

We stayed in a fancy hotel in Bangkok because it was the price of a regular hotel stateside. The room was gorgeous and the pool kind of obscene – but it was the service that made the hotel worthwhile. They made recommendations and reservations, printed us maps and drew us directions, and overall made us feel less like the foreigners we were. If you’re looking for an indulgence, The Four Seasons Bangkok is quite a nice one.

A couple of indispensable social media folks: Chawadee is at @BangkokGlutton and Bangkok Glutton. Austin Bush is @austinbushphoto and Austin Bush Photography. Robyn and David are @eatingasia and Eating Asia. All were invaluable to us on our trip

Seriously, you can’t go wrong. A trip to Thailand is a trip well spent. Leave comments if you’ve been or are going soon. I can’t wait to hear about your experiences.

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