The meal consisted of coagulated blood, white thin noodles and herbs (or was it a vegetable?) that looked like twigs. It was piping hot, almost as hot as the air around me, and my lips immediately swelled with the heat of it.
Food while traveling can be the best of times or the worst of times. A mystifying yet necessary item in your day to day life which can either make your day, as you delight in the food and community, or suffer miserably while it wrecks havoc (we will leave the rest of that to the imagination).
I’ve been lucky to have experienced some amazing dishes and flavors. Some were more palatable than others. And I’ve had a few funny moments along the way.
Ingredients waiting to be cooked at a food stall.
One night while I was living in Thailand and tired of noodles, rice and coconut milk concoctions we usually made and craving something our taste buds knew of old, Heather, Michael and I decided to make tacos. Heather had been delighted to come across taco shells at are our market and in honor of that find Michael and I set off to find additional ingredients for the meal. I picked up sticky rice and laab moo (a delicious Asian flavored version of ground beef). We chopped up fresh chilis, tomatos and onions for salsa and a special trip into the city center was made for cheese and hard to find sour cream.
Setting the table and after exclaiming over how excited we were for tacos, we all settled into silence for our first bite. I picked it up off my plate. I breathed in the smell of spices, cheese and vegetables, the fresh salsa dripping from the tortilla shell. I took a bite.
The taco bent in half.
I pulled back to look at it. The shell was so stale, my dinner looked like the leaning tower of Pisa. I couldn’t even chew through it. We exchanged stunned glances around the table.
Later, as we cleaned up, Heather noticed the expiration date on the box was from 2008.
The best way to drink coconut water!
Khao Soi! One of my favorite dishes ever
There was another time I was on the bus between Chiang Rai and Chiang Mai. Stopping at a roadside market along the way, I got out in search of food. Noticing a green sliced fruit covered with what looked like sugar crystals I asked the man what it was. His Thai was so rapid fire I could only understand the word for “mango”. I indicated I’d like some. He handed me a plastic bag stuffed full of the fruit with a spiked wooden pick to pull it easily out of the bag. Climbing back into the bus, I popped a large bite into my mouth. And nearly spit it out with shock.
What I had thought were ‘sugar crystals’ were actually chili flakes. And the mango was pickled.
Hadn’t seen that one coming.
Mango! Unpickled.
Jellyfish. Pickled.
