February 17, 2010
Grocery shopping in Hanoi requires determination, smarts and discipline. Meat, fruits and vegetables are best bought fresh at markets that dot the city. Unfortunately I have to cross a highway to get to my closest market (insane traffic) but in a side street near my school a ladies set stalls up morning and night. Eggs, freshly pressed tofu, pork and chickens sit side by side with all manner of vegetables from ruby ripe tomatoes to stunningly fresh green onions. On the other side of the street you can buy processed meats roasted pork with crackling that lives up to its name and other pre-prepared food.
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February 12, 2010
For a city of 6.5 million people Hanoi is still quite provincial. After a few months here the bright lights and bustling modernity of Bangkok was mesmerising, air conditioned public transport, shops with clothes that fit, food from all around the world and other such wonders. It was in cosmopolitan Bangkok that I decided to splurge on fancy western meal for the first time in months. Combining art and well-reviewed food, the choice was obvious: Eat Me restaurant.
With its walls painted a dark grey, art on the walls and alluring dimmed lighting Eat Me is sleek and stylishly designed, refreshingly there isn’t a Thai curlicue in sight. The menu is split intelligently into vegetables and grains, fish & shellfish and meat & poultry and is littered with Australian produce. It is little wonder that it is owned by an Australian, and the executive chef is his sister who splits her time between Bangkok, Sydney and the Barossa. This western influence is reflected in the abundance of well trained staff, and little touches of home, like iced water and great complimentary grilled bread served with spicy olive oil and dukkah and elevates Eat Me a step above.
Black chicken, red papaya, toasted coconut, chilli and lime salad with betel leaf
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February 7, 2010
A few months ago when I was floored by the scent of passionfruit the cubic megatonne I bought made me think of tart jelly. They sat in wrinkling in the fruit bowl mocking me every time I passed. So jelly it was.
Actually jelly it always is these days. I seem to have an all out jelly obsession, in fact I just made a delicious wibbly wobbly blood orange jelly shot through with sweet Da Lat strawberries. See, before I left Australia I stocked up on leaf gelatine and had been rationing it out, trying to make it last. This week though I realised that they it is for sale in our local corner shop. So I’ll be making jelly for a while yet.
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February 3, 2010
I may be in Hanoi snacking on pomelo and digesting a street-side dinner of delicious fried rice with beef, slivers of sweet lap cheong and crisp sour pickled vegetable, but I still yearn for cendol. The grass is always greener.
For those who are yet to experience cendol, it is all about pandan flavoured rice flour noodles, toothsome red beans and shaved ice drenched in coconut milk with lashings of deep dark palm sugar syrup. Sago optional. Simple. Mix it, the ice will melt changing the texture and flavour all the way to the end of the bowl. Refreshing perfection for the Malaysian heat and humidity.
The makings of Cendol – shaved ice and gula melaka
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January 28, 2010
The mulberry tree, an important pit stop on the daily commute to the bus stop. In a fight against the birds and bats we plucked ripe looking specimens guzzling one after another until the fear of missing the bus becomes too strong and theres nothing left to do but run to the end of the road. All the way trying to remember not to wipe sticky juicy stained fingers on our school dresses. The predators stalked our mulberry tree endlessly, eating most the crop from above, while we stood inside, enveloped, clearing all the branches within reach. There was never enough leftover for the traditional exploits of a pie or jam.
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