April 14

I'm in Bangkok again! This time for longer, almost an entire week.

This week has pushed me to a new level of gastronomical pleasure. And yes, I am a foodie, although I don't know who came up with such a term, and in my opinion, it sounds vague and generic. Anyways, I thought it'd be fun to play Anthony Bourdain for a day, in search of the perfect meal, and write about all of the great food that I've eaten, just in case you might pop in the city and be clueless of where and what to eat.

1. There's nothing to do in Little Arabia but eat, really, so that's what we did. Shwarma street venders, this is meat at its best. It's like an Arabian grilled burrito. I stood outside by the vender, spellbound by the sweaty little man, carving off meat wrapped and roasting around a giant pole. They then put the meat in flatbread with other vegetables, put a little sauce, and then put it under a press til' it's golden and grilled. Amazing!

2. After what seems like working in countless restaurants over the summer, I've long dreamed of opening my own, a tea and coffee house with international deserts. I've always had a sweet tooth, so all through-out Asia I've been trying deserts like mad, trying to pick and make note of the ones that might have international appeal, and I might serve one day in my hip desert cafe. Phil knows this, so when we passed by a restaurant called T42. We looked at the huge table of deserts, and then at each other, "Is it too early for desert?" he asked. "It's never too early for good desert." We got Austrian coffee cake, which was unthinkably moist, with this light meringue and toasted sugar on top. Then we got a slice of banana date flan, which had just the perfect proportions of each flavor. Both of these deserts I definitely want to be in my cafe some day. I was pretty ecstatic.

3. Shubi Shi is horribly popular in Bangkok, we had to wait about an hour to even get in. It's a Japanese buffet, where each seat has a built in soup cooker, your broth of choice, and then you sit at a bar in front of a conveyer belt of plates with fresh ingredients, meats, greens, wontons, noodles, you name it, and you take your plate of choice off the belt and drop it into your soup. There's also plates of sushi, pot stickers, fried fish and shrimp, and other appetizers. I understand it's hype, and I definitely approve, de-licious!

4. The Thai street-vender meal. A classic. We ate breakfast from a vender across the street from Phil's apartment, whom Phil calls "Towel Lady" because she cooks while wearing a pink towel wrapped around her head. She looked decently old and weathered, but she can sure rock a wok, and efficiently so, bringing me a delicious breakfast of chicken basil stir fry, eggs, and rice. Phil rarely cooks because he says its cheaper for him to eat out, and if he's low on money, there is always a quick fill from a street vender. I'm pretty envious, as this phenomena definitely isn't the same in Cambodia. Pretty dang good.

5. Actually, I'm not going to lie, I've been spoiled by authentic Mexican restaurants my whole life. I'm from California. But after I served a meal last summer when I worked at Tio Alberto's to a man living in Tokyo, Japan, I had become a little skeptical of Mexican food served in Asia. He sighed with deep contentment as I served him his plate of Machaca, saying, "It's nice to have real Mexican food, at last." He went on to explain that he'd ordered a taco in Tokyo, and to his shock and surprise and horror, he received some sort of flat bread with a hot dog cut in half, a little lettuce on top, drenched in ketchup and mustard. I wasn't there, but as a Mexican food buff, hearing the words, I felt an ping of pain, an irk, a violation. "No?!" I asked in disbelief. He just shook his head quietly and then dug into his food. So I was pleasantly surprised to be delighted by my fish tacos at Sunrise Tacos. Not bad, not bad at all, another pat on the back and job well-done for Bangkok.

6. Iraqi food in Little Arabia. I was the only woman in the restaurant, only me and the waitresses, covered head to toe in traditional muslim garments. The restaurant was filled with parties of men, talking loudly, plates loaded with meats and rice. I wasn't sure if I was being irreverent or something by being in there, but as soon as I tasted the food, I could care less, I wasn't leaving til' every bit was finished and in my belly. We ordered beef kababs that were amazingly tender, rice, some sort of green salad, and chapatti-like flat bread. Quality.