Sometimes I think I should have a series in my blog for funny condominium project names here in Bangkok.  I see advertisements for them from time to time and wonder how a particular name was chosen.

Take, for example, Rende.  It is located on Sukhumvit Soi 23, one block east of Soi Asoke, so its claim of being just 5 minutes from the BTS Skytrain and MRT Subway is probably accurate.  But what does it mean that it is an “artistic condo for art lovers?” 

And the name “Rende”?  Did they name the condo after the city of Rende, Italy?  If so, why?  Rende does have two museums, but neither is particularly noteworthy.  Maybe the developers named the condo after the city because the city has the largest mall in southern Italy.  Or maybe they named the condo after the Dutch word “rende,” which means “trough,” “furrow,” or “ditch.”  That doesn’t sound very likely, either.

Oh, well, file this under “I” for “inexplicable.”

We have several social circles in our life here in Bangkok.  One of those circles is with Tawn’s high school friends, most of whom are married and are starting their own families.  Many of those friends are making a concerted effort to involve Tawn and me in their children’s lives.  Last weekend we spent two days with three of these families – a total of four children under the age of four – at a “family friendly” resort in Cha-am, a beach town about three hours south of Bangkok.

Both afternoons we spent time in the pool, which thankfully was located so that it was in the shade.  The weather was pleasant with a nice breeze, and all of the children enjoy the water.  The experience was interesting on a number of levels, not the least of which was a chance to observe some of the differences between Thai and American parenting styles.

Saa with her 10-month old daughter Jaeda (in pink) and Kiri, the 7-month old son of another friend.  I debated for several minutes before posting this picture, one of a very few on this blog that show me shirtless.  (And, I’m sure you’re hoping, something that remains a rare sight!  LOL)

Saa and Kiri.  The following afternoon, the weather was just a bit cooler and breezier and when we put Kiri in his inflatable rocket, you could tell he was cold because his upper lip was shivering.  It was very cute, but kind of sad, too.  Eventually he warmed up a bit.  In the background, I supervise as 3.5-year old JJ pulls his little sister around the pool.

This photo is of Job, Saa’s husband, going down the water slide with JJ.  There’s a bit of a story here that illustrates some of the differences in parenting styles.  Of course, I’m making broad generalizations, but Thai parents tend to be much more protective of their children.  For example, Jaeda and Kiri are both just at the point where they have the strength to stand and Jaeda can even take a tentative few steps if she is holding onto something.  But they never have the opportunity to fall because someone is always holding them or reaching out to catch them if they lose their balance.  The American style is more inclined to let them fall, pick themselves up, and try again.

Now, the first day we were in the pool, JJ decided after about 10 minutes that he didn’t want to wear his floatation devices and wanted to move from the 45 cm-deep pool to the 80 cm-deep pool.  He is pretty comfortable in the water and even in the deeper pool his head was still well clear of the water, so that was okay.  After about an hour, he decided he wanted to try the slide and kept riding with his father.

The next day, everyone else was still lounging about upstairs so JJ and I went down to the pool together.  After a few times down the slide, he decided he wanted to go down by himself.  I thought to myself, “Okay, I’m not sure his parents would like this…” but I waited at the end of the slide to catch him if he had any trouble.

By the time his parents came down to the pool along with everyone else, JJ was going down the slide again and again, each time on his own and each time with no troubles.  Sure enough, Saa was a bit surprised, but to her credit quickly realized that her son was able to handle himself without any trouble, although she did have to lecture him about not cutting in front of people who were waiting for the slide!

Later the first evening we were at the pier for a seafood dinner and JJ fell down and (ostensibly) scraped his knee.  I didn’t see any broken skin but he insisted on having a plaster with blue elephants on it, applied to the injury.  Before the plaster, he was holding an ice cube to the injury and then had great fun dropping the ice cube down his shorts leg.  His mother did not find this as amusing.

One recurring theme for the weekend was that every time we got Kiri and Jaeda near each other, Jaeda would crawl over to Kiri and try and hug and kiss him, although with her fine motor skills still under development, it looked more like a mauling.  Kiri didn’t like the attention, which Jaeda found greatly amusing.  Good for her, taking rejection lightly!  In this series, Kiri’s mother, Tao, tries to wrangle the two for a group photo.

Eventually, Jaeda caught Kiri at an unguarded moment and was able to plant a kiss right in the middle of his face.  That was the end of our attempts to get a picture of them together!

Job and Saa with JJ and Jaeda with Uncle Tawn in the background.  Not sure why Jaeda was trying to raise the roof.  JJ is currently attending an international preschool where the primary language of instruction is English.  Nonetheless, he wasn’t very forthcoming in English and we communicated mostly in Thai until late the second day when he did start using some English.

In attempting to set up the previous family photo, JJ kept laying down to avoid having his picture taken.  So I rotated the angle 90 degrees and got this photo, which I think is kind of an interesting one.

Tao with her son Kiri.  Somehow, I didn’t manage to get a picture of her husband Pai.  Kiri took quite a shine to me, as he seems to like being lifted up in the air and then dropped down suddenly and I was the only one who would do that again and again and again.  Have I mentioned that my left shoulder has been sore since last weekend?

Group photo: Tawn with Jaeda and Saa; me with JJ; Tawn’s friend Jaa with her daughter Nam Ing; and Tao with Kiri. 

I’m glad we had the opportunity to spend more time with Tawn’s friends and their children.  It is important for them to be exposed to a wide variety of people and while their parents all speak English well, having the opportunity to learn to speak with a foreigner is good for the children. 

In fact, in the days since our return, Tao called Tawn to say that she’s enrolling her son in an infant swimming class and was wondering if Uncle Chris might like to come along.

Riding my bike a few weekends ago past the new Skytrain Sukhumvit Line extension (more about that later), I crossed this khlong, or canal, near the Third Stage Expressway.  Bangkok has long been referred to as the Venice of the East, although most of the canals have either been filled in to make roads or are stagnant dumping grounds.  This canal, though, flows unimpeded to the Chao Phraya River and seems to benefit from a twice-daily flushing by the tides.

The arrow on this map illustrates the location and direction of the first photo.  It is charming that there are still communities that live on the edge of the water, whose land has not been expropriated for development into condos, hotels, and office buildings.  Of course, in some areas, those are the poorest communities and homes are little more than corrugated tin shacks.  In other areas, such as the Phra Khanong community in the first picture, residents are of modest means but their community is long-established with solidly-built homes and shops.

This is the final entry on our trip to Chiang Mai.  Since I entered a cropped version of one of these pictures to a contest at the MyWinningPhoto site (I came in second, thank you for your votes), I had to hold off on posting this entry until after voting ended.

After enjoying a Lamphun style lunch at Huen Jai Yong on the eastern outskirts of Chiang Mai, Tawn and I decided to drive to the Mandarin Oriental Dhara Dhevi resort.  With only 123 rooms on its 60-acre grounds, this Rachen Intawong-designed property is quite the vision of overblown opulence, although the company more modestly describes it as “a place where traditional Lanna culture and Asian colonial splendour have been carefully brought together in masterful harmony.”

We arrived just as an afternoon thunderstorm was dissipating.  Our initial objective was to have tea but we discovered that the Oriental Tea Shoppe is located in a complex next to the public parking lot on the outer edge of the resort, which effectively insulates the guests within from the bus loads of tourists who visit.  The shopping area looks like some sort of movie set from a Chinese western, but with plenty of bamboo.

Props to the Oriental Tea Shoppe which, just like its branches in Bangkok, serves beautiful cakes and other pastries to go with their Mariage Freres teas and coffees.

Afterwards, we decided to enter the resort.  This is the imposing gate the separates the flagstone-paved public parking lot with the rest of the resort.  Follow the Mercedes limousine!

From there, a long tree-shaded driveway leads to the main lobby.  The name “Dhara Dhevi” is a poor anglicization of the name of Queen Chama Thevi (alternately, Jamadevi), founder around 750 CE of the Hariphunchai kingdom, the capital of which was in nearby Lamphun.   

Looking back towards the entrance gate, these buildings on the left contain function rooms for events, conferences, meetings, etc.  Way down near the gate is a horse-drawn carriage that ferries guests.  Bored, the driver offered to give Tawn a lift into the resort and subsequently gave us a 20-minute tour of the grounds.

Near the main lobby, walls obscure shops and parts of the grounds, looking more like a Mon fortress than a resort.

The sweeping main lobby building.  Driveways just to out of the frame of the picture lead to the reception area.  The lower floor is a shopping arcade.  The overall design of the complex is a mish-mash of Lao, Burmese, Lanna, Mon, and Thai architecture, with some Thais criticizing the resort as looking too much like a temple.

From the back side of the reception area, you can see two of the larger buildings that contain guest units.  Many of the units, though, are stand-alone villas that are spread throughout the grounds.  The swimming pool has some gorgeous tile work.

Another two buildings with guest rooms.  Granted, this was about twenty minutes after a heavy storm had passed, but the place looked deserted.  We saw two couples (presumably guests) in the lobby area and passed one family of four while touring the grounds.  Other than that, the place was empty.  The impression I got from talking with employees was that occupancy was in the low twenty percent range.  Rates, though, were still about $400 a night.

Looking down the steps from the entrance to the spa, which was also deserted – no guests but no employees, either.  The statues on either side of the walkway are supposed to shoot arcs of water over the path, landing on the other side.  The resort has been open a bit more than five years and there were many areas where significant maintenance was being performed. 

Unfortunately, the video that I shot while on our horse-drawn tour is on the Mac, which is in for repairs at the authorized Apple retailer.  If I get a chance I will post it later as it shows the exteriors of some of the villas, which look like village houses in the midst of rice paddies.

Our horse and buggy driver at the end of the tour.  My overall impression of the resort was that somewhere along the way it had crossed the line from “elegant” to “ostentatious,” reminding me more of a pan-Southeast Asian amusement park than anything else.  But maybe this is the type of fantasy in which wealthy tourists, Asian and non-Asian alike, wish to indulge in.

On our final day in Chiang Mai, Tawn and I drove east of the city to search for Huen Jai Yong, a restaurant highly recommended by our hotel’s staff.  Four or five people around the front desk agreed that this was the restaurant locals went to when they wanted to eat good Northern Thai food.  In fact, the restaurant is known particularly for its Lamphun style cuisine.  Lamphun is the province directly to the southeast of Chiang Mai.

As I learned from Wikipedia, Lamphun traces its roots to the 9th Century, when it was founded by Queen Chama Thevi as the capital of the most northern of the Mon kingdoms in the area that is now Thailand.

Located on Route 1317 some 15 kilometers west of the city, Huen Jai Yong still feels like it is out in the countryside.  Its landmark is the large rain tree out by the driveway.  In reality, though, civilization is fast approaching.  Not a kilometer away, rice paddies have been transformed into housing developments.

The gardens behind the restaurant were in the midst of lamyai or longan season, with the trees heavily loaded with fruit.  Chickens were strutting about the garden, scratching for bugs amidst the herbs and vegetables.

The restaurant itself is a charming old teak wood house, with seating upstairs, downstairs, and in a few adjacent buildings.  A small gift shop is located out front where Tawn is standing.

We opted for the open-air seating under the house.  This picture doesn’t show it very well, but several of the tables are made from old long boats with planks added to make the tabletops.  On the sign in pink chalk you can see the restaurant’s name in Lanna, the old Northern Thai language that traces its roots to a time when this region was a kingdom independent of Siam.

We ordered a variety of foods, sampling several dishes we had eaten at Huen Phen as well as some specialties we had not tried on this trip.  Sticki rice is a staple.

First, let’s answer the question, what makes Northern Thai cuisine distinct?  Thailand has four major regions (North, Northeast/Issan, Central, and South) and each has its own style of cuisine although the have become increasingly merged as Thais move about the country.

Generally speaking, Northern Thai cuisine reflects the peoples who have historically lived in, passed through, and traded with the region.  These include the Mon, Shan, and other Burmese groups; the Hui and Taochew people from China; as well as Indian, Northern Lao, and Malay people.

Northern Thailand is more mountainous, has better rainfall, and somewhat cooler temperatures than other parts of Thailand.  The food tends to be heartier, a bit less spicy, makes more use of fresh herbs and vegetables, and makes less use of ingredients like coconut milk and fish than in other regions.  Whereas fermented fish and shrimp are used as a flavoring in other regions, you see fermented soybeans (trace the roots to China) used more commonly in Northern Thai cooking.

Let’s take a look at what was served:

This dish of steamed squash and parboiled greens (similar to kale) and eggplant are served as a kind of side dish that you can go to for a break from whatever main dishes you are eating, kind of like the ban chan in Korean cuisine or pickles in many cultures.

Once again we see the ubiquitous sai oua sausage, this time served with some muu tod or fried pork, known in the Northern Thai dialect at jiin muu.

This dish, which is kind of hard to see thanks to the boiled eggs on top, looked at first to be nam prik noom, the roasted green chilli dip.  In fact, though, it was tam baakeua, a salad made of roasted eggplant.  Very tasty with the smoky meatiness of the eggplant enhanced with a variety of herbs and spices then served with the rich boiled eggs.

One option for eating the roasted eggplant was this dish of kaep muu or chitlins (as they are called in the southern United States), deep fried pork skin.  Oh, so bad for you and yet so good, too!

An unusual dish was larb kua plaa nin, of a salad of pan seared tilapia fish flavored with lemongrass, shallots, chilies, and other herbs.  Tasty and similar to, but less spicy than, other chopped meat salads that come from the Northeast.  Interestingly, I learned that tilapia was introduced to Thailand as a gift of Japanese Crown Prince Akihito in 1965 to H.M. King Bhumipol.  It has adapted very well and is found in rivers all across Thailand.

Another version of gaeng hong lay, the Burmese style stewed pork with a tomato based sauce.  This particular version came very close to massman curry and was sweeter than the version we had at Huen Phen restaurant.  While it was tasty, it was almost too sweet for my taste.  Also interesting, it was made with fresh ginger instead of fried ginger.

Northern Thai cuisine uses fresh herbs prodigiously and we were served this plate of various herbs and yard beans.  While I didn’t confirm it, I get the impression that these herbs are grown on the grounds of the restaurant.

We ended our meal with gaeng pak waan, a soup of “sweet vegetable” which are the tips of a vegetable similar to spinach but much less earthy in flavor.  The broth is made from dried fish.

Our bill came out to about 400 baht for the two of us, about US $13.50.  The meal was a perfect conclusion to our trip to Chiang Mai.  The food is tasty, fresh, healthy, and the flavors are perhaps more accessible than any other style of Thai cuisine.  Now, the question is, when are you coming for a visit? 

Directions: From Central Airport Plaza take Mahidol Road towards San Kamphaeng (Route 1317) . Pass the junction of the Outer Ring Road and Route 1317 intersection, the make a U-turn at km 9. The restaurant will be on your left at the large rain tree.

Back to food in Chiang Mai, after a morning spent teaching monks how to cook, err… make sandwiches, I was hungry for some Thai food.  The previous day Tawn and I had tried one highly recommended place for khao soi, the northern style curried nodles that are among my favorite foods in the world.  We decided to head over to another well-recommended restaurant, Khao Soi Sameujai Faaham.

On Faaham Road across the Ping River from the old city, there are two khao soi places just about 100 meters apart.  Khao Soi Sameujai Faaham (Thai: เสมอใจฟ้าฮ่าม) is on the west side of the road right next to Wat Faaham.  The other restaurant, Khao Soi Lamduon, is on the east side of the road just a bit south of the wat and reportedly serves a spicier version of the dish.  Sadly, we did not make it to Khao Soi Lamduon on this trip.

Yet another Northern Thai restaurant sponsored by which cola company?  Regretfully, they do not have an English language sign but if you can find the wat (temple), the restaurant is immediately to the right of it.  The good news is, their interior signage is very English friendly with photos, names, and descriptions of each dish.

The building is more of a food court, if you will, with different vendors offering different dishes, mostly Northern Thai but with some other common dishes (somtam or green papaya salad, with is really Issan or Northeastern Thai, for example) also available.  The khao soi vendor is front and center, literally, with huge pots of curried broth and coconut cream simmering away.

Our khao soi arrived with the ubiquitous plate of condiments – picked cabbage, a slice of lime, and some shallots (the chilli paste is in a container on the table) – carefully balanced on top of the bowl of noodles and meat.  Artful presentation or just efficiency?  You decide.

Once the condiments were moved out of the way, I got a view of the goldenrod color of the broth.  Like always, I tried a slurp of it before adding the condiments, the better to appreciate the unique attributes of this dish.  The broth was a little bit sweeter with a slightly more pronounced curry flavor than what we had at Grandmother’s Khao Soi.

As a point of comparison, here was Grandmother’s Khao Soi.  The color correction is accurate: the broth is a little darker and has a slightly meatier flavor than at Khao Soi Sameujai Faaham.  Also, despite the big vat of coconut cream bubbling away at Sameujai Faaham, Grandmother’s was a bit more liberal with its application.

Which is better?  Oh, you aren’t going to lure me into the middle of an impossible dillema!  Both versions were very good and both had their own unique qualities.  Oh, and I’ll be going back to both on my next visit to Chiang Mai!

The other vendor located out front is preparing satay gai, or grilled chicken skewers.  This treat is definitely an import from the Indonesia/Malaysia corner of the world.  It is more than just simply grilled chicken, though.  The key to Thai satay is that the meat is marinated in a coconut milk and curry dressing so it takes on a rich flavor and retains its moisture.

Typical service for the satay: pickled cucumbers, chillies, and shallots and a dipping sauce made of ground peanuts, red curry paste, coconut milk, and lime juice.  I know a lot of recipes tell you to use peanut butter, but trust me, it isn’t the same.  Commercial peanut butters have many added ingredients, which change the taste of the sauce. 

We ordered a dish of naam prik noom, the dip made of roasted green chillies.  Compared with the version we ate at Huen Phen restauarnt with its fancy blanched vegetables, this version is quite modest with just some cabbage and cucumbers.  This version of the naam prik, though, was spicy!

We also ordered sai oua, the herb-filled pork sausage.  This is one of those foods that everyone does a little bit differently, so if someone is serving it, you should try just as a point of comparison. 

We had every intention of saving room so we could stop down the street at Khao Soi Lamduon and split a bowl of khao soi just to try, but we were really full by this point.  Alas, yet another reason we must get back to Chiang Mai soon.

Walking back to the temple next door where we had parked our car, we spotting this helpful bit of wisdom.  Yaa puut nai sing tii mai ruu, leh yaa putt tuk yang tii ruu.  “Don’t speak about things which you don’t know, and don’t speak everything that you do know.”  Good advice with which to lead your life.

In my final entry about Chiang Mai food, we make a special drive out of town to try a Lamphun style restaurant, and I explain a bit about what makes Northern Thai food unique.

Loading my Yahoo mail, this headline caught my eye.  Could it be?  Were they finally taking seriously my plans for paying off the government debt?

Turns out it is just some other guy named Schultz.  Seems he has some experience with a coffee shop or something.

A story on Talk of the Nation earlier this month piqued the interest of my inner urban planner and transportation geek.  It was about the efforts of traffic engineers to design intersections that minimize potential points of conflict and maximize the flow of vehicles.  Particularly, they talked about something called a “Diverging Diamond Interchange” or DDI.

The classic diamond interchange is very inefficient and results in nearly two dozen points of potential conflict between cars going different directions.  Every left turn, whether to enter or exit the freeway, results in the rest of the traffic having to stop.

One solution known as the “Michigan Left” (because it is used mostly in Michigan, I suppose) is a relatively dangerous solution that has drivers making a u-turn about 200 meters after the intersection, then making a right-hand turn at the intersection.  The disadvantage of these uncontrolled u-turns is that one thing drivers don’t do particularly well is judge the speed and distance of oncoming vehicles. 

Another solution is the SPUI – Single Point Urban Interchange.  This design has all traffic coming together at a single intersection controlled by a single set of lights.  I’m familiar with this as it is the new design that was built near where I used to live in suburban Kansas City.  It is an elegant design but still has some problems, not the least of which is that the space in the middle of the intersection is very large and people can get lost.  I’ve observed this on several occasions, where cars have drifted into the wrong direction, especially at night when traffic is light and visual cues (like the headlines of oncoming cars) not so available.

If you have never had the pleasure of driving through an SPUI and are curious how they work, here’s a nice short video that shows an animation of traffic going through the intersection. 

The latest innovation, which so far has only been built a few places in the United States, is something called the Diverging Diamond Interchange, or DDI.  Somewhat counterintuitively, the DDI involves the lanes of traffic switching sides on each end of the interchange.  The result is that there are only two controlled intersections and drastically fewer potential points of conflicts.  All left turns follow the natural, uninterrupted flow of traffic.  (Thanks to NPR for the graphics.)

Here is how it works:

As you approach the traffic signal, the lanes of traffic curve slightly to the left, passing oncoming traffic (which waits at the light) at a 25-degree angle.

As you travel through the signal, you are on the left hand side of the road.

If you are turning left onto the freeway, you simply make a left-hand turn without waiting for a light.  Through traffic keeps on moving, not having to stop for cars waiting to make left-hand turns.

After passing through the second intersection, traffic crosses back over to the right-hand side of the road.

Exiting from the freeway to go left onto the arterial road, you merge and do not have to go through an intersection.

Entering the freeway with a right hand turn is also a merge and does not require you to go through an intersection.  In all, the traffic flows much more smoothly. 

Here’s a short animation that shows the traffic flow.

There are multiple safety benefits.  Traffic keeps moving, reducing standstill time and the risk of rear-end crashes.  Right-angle crashes are eliminated for drivers turning left onto the freeway, as they no longer cross oncoming traffic.  Finally, fewer intersections and independent directions to cross those intersections means fewer collisions caused by people running lights.

All told, I’m sold on the Diverging Diamond Interchange.  Looks like a great way to improve traffic flow and reduce the risks of accidents.

One other option that is interesting is something called the Pinavia interchange, which I guess has been built in Europe.  It is an elaborate interchange that requires no intersections and is aesthetically pleasing, too.  Above is a brief animation to give you an idea of how it works.

Anyhow, that’s enough urban planning/transportation geekiness for today.  But isn’t it fantastic, the things you can learn on NPR?

Are you familiar with the weekly photo contest held at the MyWinningPhoto blog on Xanga?  Each week a different theme is chosen and people can submit photos they’ve taken that fit the theme.  Then the following week fellow Xangans can vote for their winner. 

I’ve followed the site for several month now, voting weekly.  This is the first time I’ve participated in the contest and submitted my own photo.  Now, I am not allowed to tell you which photo is mine, but I will encourage you to go to the site and vote.  Please also recommend the contest blog entry in order to drive traffic to it.

Enjoy!

When four independent sources, sources who are friends, colleagues, and other trustworthy sorts, recommend a restaurant, it’s a fair bet that the restaurant is worth visiting.  For our first dinner in Chiang Mai, we wanted to eat somewhere in town that was well-known for its Northern Thai cuisine.  We ended up at Huen Phen, located on Rachamankha Road in the southwestern quadrant of the old city.

There’s sort of a funny story about how we ended up here.  Our first afternoon in the city, we met an American retiree friend, Vic, who has just recently moved to Chiang Mai from Bangkok.  Vic is the sort of person who, shall we say, likes to stay in his comfort zone.  When we met in the late afternoon, Vic suggested several restaurants we could eat at, all of which were branches of Bangkok chains, all of which were located in the city’s largest mall, and none of which featured Northern Thai cuisine.

Somewhat surprisingly, we persuaded Vic to join us at Huen Phen.  We almost lost him along the way, though.  We didn’t have a precise address so parked in front of a nearby temple and asked some locals.  They said the restaurant was several blocks away and recommended we drive there.  Once back in the car, following their directions we headed down a small, dark side street.  By this point, Vic was getting a bit skeptical.  Tawn saw a sign for parking, though, so we pulled to the curb, parked the car, and then walked up to the main street.

The exterior of the restaurant looked closed for business.  Chairs were upturned on tables, the lights were out, and the gates were closed.  Only this illuminated sign (can you guess which cola company sponsors it?) and a single gate were open.

As it turns out, there are actually two restaurants of the same name.  The exterior restaurant, the one that was closed, is the lunchtime restaurant.  It serves basically the same food but all prepared in large pots.  The dinner restaurant is located down this narrow path that passes through a garden.  Only a chalkboard sign posted on an easel pointed out the way.  It was enough to make you think they didn’t want to be found all that easily.

The interior of the restaurant is packed with antiques and bric-a-brack, mostly Thai in nature.  In appearance it is like a Lanna version of TGI Fridays.  We had to wait only a few minutes before we were shown to our tables.  As busy as the restaurant was, I’d imagine reservations are a good idea.

The crowd was mixed, although there were a lot of tourists.  This is a worrying sign as restaurants that have too many tourists and not enough locals usually aren’t very good.  Thankfully, though Huen Phen was every bit as good as all our friends, colleagues, and the employees of our hotel had promised.

We ordered quite a few dishes, considering there were just three of us eating.  This first dish, a Northern Thai classic, is nam prik ong.  It is minced pork with tomatoes and is only mildly spicy.  It is served with blanched vegetables and is eaten as a dip.

The second dish was another type of dip called nam prik noom.  “Nam prik” means chilli sauce.  This is made from fire-roasted green chilies and the spiciness varies depending on how many of the seeds and how much of the seed membrane are left in.  In this case, it was pretty darn hot.  The use of nam prik is one way Northern Thais consume a lot of vegetables and it sure beats ranch dip any day of the week.

The third dish, also served with some vegetables on the side was sai oua, the ubiquitous Northern Thai pork sausage flavored with kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass, galangal root, red curry paste, and turmeric.  It is usually only moderately spicy.  This is a favorite dish of mine because I think the very herbal flavor of the sausage is distinct and enjoyable.

We also had gai tod, or fried chicken, seasoned with their special blend of herbs and spices.  Very juicy and even finger lickin’ better than some other friend chicken recipes.  It is served with the sweet chilli dipping sauce that is common with fried chicken in Thailand.

This is a version of larb muu, a minced pork salad that is actually more commonly associated with Issan, or Northeastern Thai cuisine.  It is made with shallots, lemongrass, lime juice, and ground toasted rice.  Very tasty.  You may be noticing a theme here in the fact that meat is usually served as an accompaniment to vegetables, not as the main attraction.

A dish that I’ve never tried before and we thought would be interesting: gaeng khanoon sii khrong muu.  It is a soup made with young jack fruit and pork ribs in a tamarind-flavored broth.  I thought this was very tasty and something I would seek out again. 

Of course, everything was eaten with this northern staple, khao niaw, or sticky rice.  The traditional way is to eat with your hands, pinching off a small amount of rice, rolling it into a ball, and then dipping it into sauces, curries, etc.  We used our fork and spoon as is the more contemporary Thai custom.

A final dish (although we ate a few more, I did not get photographs of them) was this Northern Thai/Burmese classic, gaeng hong lay.  This is a stewed pork dish that has a broth made of tomato and curry.  On one level, it bears some resemblance to massaman curry, but that is a much thicker and less tomatoey dish.  This dish, which I ate a lot of while in Chiang Mai, is one of my all-time favorite dishes.

Our entire meal, which was a ton of food for three people, totaled 900 baht or 30 US dollars.  From a Thai perspective, that’s a pricey meal, but by the standards of the quality and quantity of food, it was still quite inexpensive. 

Now, to clear something up, while the restaurant spells its name “Huen Phen”, the pronunciation is more like huu-in pain with the “huu” pronounced through a wide smile.  Because if you pronounce it as the restaurant chose to write it, you will likely not be understood.  Especially if you pronounce the “ph” as “f”.  The “f” sound is always transliterated with an “f” in Thailand, never with a “ph”.  (Phuket is pronounced “puu get”, for example.)

As part of the Budget Control Act passed this month, a twelve-member Join Committee on Deficit Reduction has been charged with recommending at least $1.5 trillion in additional deficit reduction over the next decade.  They have until November 23 to make their recommendations.

The committee’s recommendations will then be put to a simple up-or-down vote by Congress, with no amendments, filibusters, etc. allowed.  The recommendations have to be passed by December 23 otherwise a $1.2 trillion package of automatic spending cuts would come into effect.

The Joint Committee on Deficit Reduction.  Top row are members of the House of Representatives: Co-chair Jeb Hensarling (R-TX), Dave Camp (R-MI), Fred Upton (R-MI), Chris Van Hollen (D-MD), Jim Clyburn (D-SC), Xavier Becerra (D-CA).  Bottom row are members of the Senate: Co-chair Patty Murray (D-WA), John Kerry (D-MA), Max Baucus (D-GA), Jon Kyl (R-AZ), Pat Toomey (R-PA), Rob Portman (R-OH).

First question on my mind: Do these twelve congresspeople sufficiently represent America?  They are overwhelmingly white (83% vs. about 66% in the general population) and male (92% vs. 50% in the general population).  Now, I realize that a committee of twelve national politicians will not necessary mirror the United States population, nor do they need to.  But it seems that when we talk about “sacrifices” in the budget, these sacrifices are disproportionately borne by women, children, and people of color. 

The public schools in the wealthy suburbs seem to face fewer cutbacks than the inner city schools.  The unemployed factory worker seems to run out of resources long before the unemployed hedge fund manager.  And considering that you have to be at least 25 years old to run for the House of Representatives, is anyone looking out for the interests of the infants and children who will end up inheriting the results of any deficit reduction legislation?

Second question on my mind: With the committee evenly split between Republicans and Democrats, what is the likelihood that they will actually reach a compromise?  The six members of the House of Representatives are up for election in just over a year, so they will be careful not to rile their base. 

Of the six Senators, one of the Republicans (Kyl) has announced he will retire at the end of his term.  The other two Republicans were just elected in 2010 so they have time to repair any damage with their base that comes from compromising or, from a Tea Partier’s view, selling out.  Among the Democrats, Murray was just elected in 2010 and the other two Democrats do not face re-election until 2014.

Is there some hope that at least one Senator will cross over the line on the “no new revenues” position so that a balanced approach of spending cuts and revenue increases can be found?  While I’d like to hope that the Senators can rise above partisanship and make some sound decisions, nothing I’ve seen recently gives me any reason for optimism.

Additional Reading: OpenCongress.org article about key budget, spending, and tax votes of the committee members.

In the third floor classroom of Chiang Mai’s Mahachulalongkorn Rajavidyalaya University, the eyes of thirteen students registered varying degrees of confusion as I taught the first part of the English lesson: we do not “cook” sandwiches in English, we “make” them.  Clad in the saffron robes of Theravada Buddhist monks, the students wrestled with this anomaly of English.  “Will we make sandwiches today?” asked one of them, trying the new verb on for size.

One of the highlights of my recent trip to Chiang Mai was a morning spent helping my friends Ron and Kari teach English classes at the Chiang Mai campus of one of Thailand’s two monastic universities.  Ron and Kari are a Texan couple about my age, whom I first met nearly six years ago at Union Language School in Bangkok.  Most of the students at ULS are missionaries although other students are welcome.  My answer to the common question I received from fellow students – “What brought you to Thailand?” – was usually met by bewildered silence.

Ron and Kari were the exception.  They asked questions and were interested in meeting Tawn and over the years we have stayed in touch as their missionary work has taken them from Thailand to Kenya and back again.  Now they are in Chiang Mai and one of their duties is to teach English classes to monks and novices attending Buddhist university.  When they heard I was coming up, they invited me to be a guest teacher.

“The monks asked if we could cook sandwiches,” Kari explained.  “You would be good at teaching them that.”

On Thursday morning, after spending an hour practicing the intricacies of telling time, Kari pulled out two loaves of bread, a half-dozen tomatoes, a jar of mayonnaise, a container of lettuce, and a container of bologna.  First, we cleared up the confusion over which verb was appropriate.  Since we don’t use any heat, we “make” sandwiches, not “cook” them.  Next, we practiced the names of the ingredients.  “Bologna” seemed too difficult, so I called it “ham.” 

Finally, the fun began.  Working in groups of three, the monks, who range in age from 18-44, came to the front of the room, sliced tomatoes, and assembled sandwiches.  There were a few mishaps, such as the sandwiches which ended up with mayonnaise on the outside of the bread.  But all in all, everyone seemed to have a good time.

An advantage of having me teach this segment was that I could work more closely with the monks than Kari can.  One of the restrictions for Buddhist monks is that they may not touch, or even accept things handed directly to them from, a woman.  Sometimes, like when a monk who has perhaps never sliced a tomato in his life is having problems, it is easier to get in there, grab the knife, and demonstrate.  This would be complicated if a certain physical distance had to be maintained.

At the end of the class, everyone ate their sandwiches along with a banana for dessert.  Who knows if they liked their food; monks are required to eat the food they are given without complaining or expressing like or dislike.  But several students asked when I would come back and teach again, so maybe they enjoyed the sandwiches well enough.  There were requests that we cook massaman curry next time, though. 

While the class lasted only two hours, and I didn’t have much time to talk individually with the students and learn more about them, it was a fun experience.  Several years ago, I volunteered as an English teacher in a small provincial primary school and teaching is something I enjoy.  Maybe I need to make another trip up to Chiang Mai as a guest lecturer.  At least I have the right hair style to relate to the students.

We decided to do some exploring in the old city area of Chiang Mai and found several interesting sights.

A rather sophisticated bit of graffiti, a robot image that I saw repeated on another wall a few days later.  While I know that graffiti is vandalism, I do find that it is also interesting art.

Outside a building about a block from the touristy pub area, Tawn pointed out this sign to me: tii maa yieaw, or “place where dogs piss.”  I take this to mean that the owner has had problems with people urinating there so he is hoping to shame them.  I suppose this is only going to work for Thais.

We passed this vacant building for sale.  Its style is completely uncharacteristic of Thailand and would look more at home among Brooklyn brownstones than here in Chiang Mai.  Tawn likes it and thinks he should buy it for his fashion design company’s headquarters.  Maybe a bit premature for that!

Stopping by one wat, or temple, I found a good example of the Lanna, or northern Thai, script.  Lanna (which means “a million rice fields”) was the kingdom centered around Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai from the 13th – 18th centuries.  A derivative of the language is still spoken by some northern Thais, although the reading and writing is much less common.  This sign has Lanna on the top, with Thai and English on the bottom.  The Thai script is slightly stylized and is not written quite as you would see it in a textbook. 

A friendly, shaggy dog hanging around the temple.  Generally speaking, stray animals in Thailand (especially dogs) aren’t very friendly.  We encountered several in Chiang Mai, though, who came up to us, tails wagging.

Wat Sri Suphan, a temple located on the south side of the old city, is in the silvermaking district.  Chiang Mai is known for its silver and at this particular temple they are constructing an ubosot, or ordination hall, that is decorated entirely in silver.  This process seems to be going slowly, though.

A view of the entrance steps shows how the concrete base is being embellished with silver sheets, pounded into intricate designs.  All in all, I don’t find this very attractive.  The overall look is very heavy and dull.

Contrast the silver decoration with this other building (a wihan, or Buddha image building) on the same temple grounds, which has elaborately detailed and very colorful dragons guarding the entrance.

Finally, as the sun sank in the west, the rain clouds let up a bit, although the lower ones still shrouded Doi Suthep, the low mountain that overlooks Chiang Mai and has a beautiful temple on its slopes.  (Pictures from a visit there in January 2010.)

Sometimes you have bits and pieces of information in your head but they have yet to coalesce into a linked arrangement that qualifies as knowledge.  Prior to this trip to Chiang Mai, that described the state of affairs in my mind when it came to the subject of Northern Thai cuisine.  On this trip, though, the bits of knowledge started to come together and my understanding of Northern Thai cuisine began to solidify.  The process began, appropriately enough, over a bowl of khao soi.

Khao soi means snipped or trimmed rice and it refers to the way the noodles used to be made in this classic curried noodle soup.  Originally, sheets of rice noodles colored and flavored with turmeric were rolled up and then snipped into strands.  These days, though, the dish is generally made with egg noodles.

The dish is believed to have roots with the Hui, Chinese muslims from Yunnan province.  Similar dishes with similar names are found in Burma, northern Thailand, and Laos, the result of the trade routes crisscrossing the area where the three countries not far away from China.

While khao soi has a curry base, it is usually not as thick as a traditional curry.  It also does not have a lot of spicy heat, although it certainly has a lot of flavor.  The dish also relies on two types of noodles: fresh ones in the soup and deep fried ones on top to add some crunch.  All in all, it qualifies as comfort food and is certainly a defining dish in Northern Thai cuisine.

We ate khao soi a trio of times during our trip.  The first stop was at Ran Aahan Khao Soi Khun Yai, which translates as “Grandmother’s Khao Soi Restaurant.”  Located on Sriphum Road, which runs along the inside of the north moat, Grandmother’s Khao Soi is in a private residence nestled between two wat, or temples: Wat Kuan Kama to the east and Wat Montien to the west.  It is only this small orange sign, all in Thai, that indicates the entrance.

Parking is limited to a few places on the grass and most customers walk from nearby businesses and houses.  As you can see, Wat Montien is literally right next door.

The restaurant is an open air pavilion just inside the gates.  Grandmother’s house is further back on the property.  The restaurant is open from 10:00 am – 2:00 pm daily except Sunday and quantities are limited.

In a wonderfully old-fashioned touch, the menu is painted on the property wall as well as being posted on a sign over the kitchen.  I didn’t see any English menus, but imagine that you would be able to make yourself understood (through pointing, if nothing else).  The menu is basically three items: khao soi, bami (thin egg noodles), and guaytiaw (rice noodles), available with chicken, beef, or pork.  (I know, strange that a Muslim-origin dish would have a pork option.)

I opted for the khao soi nua (beef), which is always a good test for a khao soi restaurant.  The key is whether they have stewed the beef long enough so that it is very tender.  Grandmother’s beef met the tenderness test and the noodles were cooked to the perfect, not too mushy consistency.  The curry broth is fully flavored, a little thinner than some versions I’ve had but not lacking in flavor.  A small splash of boiled coconut cream added richness.   

It is customary to doctor your khao soi with a plate of garnishes.  These always include some dark chilli paste, red shallots, lime, and pickled cabbage.  I make it a point to taste the broth before adding condiments so that I can get a sense of the original flavor.  The lime and cabbage add acidic notes that keep the curry broth from being too heavy.

A wonderful drink with which to accompany the khao soi is naam lamyai, or longan juice.  Don’t you love the high-end table covering?  Winnie the Pooh and Tigger love khao soi!

To get a taste of what else Grandmother’s Khao Soi has to offer, Tawn and I split a dish of bami moo, egg noodles with ground pork and pork balls.  This dish is always comforting, a little sweet, a little savory (thanks to the fried shallots on top), and very easy to eat.

The look of a satisfied diner.  All told, Grandmother’s Khao Soi met and exceeded expectations, setting a very high bar against which other khao soi we tried during our trip had to compete.

Not to spoil your appetite, but I found this garden snail climbing up the midst of the menu painted on the wall, crossing the “o” in “soi”.  I thought it was an interesting shot.

Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand, roughly one-tenth the size and population of Bangkok.  Located an hour’s flight north of Bangkok, Chiang Mai is nestled in a valley surrounded by low mountains.  Temperatures this time of year are similar to Bangkok’s, but a little less humid and ever so slightly cooler at night.  We lucked out that our visit coincided with a bit of a cool spell, with temperatures about 28 degrees (82 F) during the day and 24 degrees (74 C) at night.  The weather was overcast most days with light drizzle, so we were spared the harsh sun.

At the heart of Chiang Mai is the old city, delineated by a moat and the ruins of city walls shaped in an approximately 1.5 km square.  The eastern portion of the old city, near Tha Phae gate, is more of the touristy area.  Our hotel, the Tamarind Village, was a few blocks west of that.  The hotel is named after the 200-year old tamarind tree, pictured above, that shades one of the courtyards.

Set back from the main street by a long, bamboo-shaded driveway, Tamarind Village fits the cliche of an “urban oasis” and is surprisingly quiet and calm.  The buildings are laid out in a series of courtyards, each of which is very lush.  The rooms are somewhat rustic, with simple interiors, and the staff are extremely friendly and helpful.

There are only 43 rooms and, despite it being low season, the hotel was fully booked.  Many of the tourists were European with a large number of French families visiting.  The restaurant next to the pool serves a complimentary breakfast buffet each morning with both indoor and outdoor seating.  It was a nice place to relax but I can’t spend too long cooped up in one place so headed out to explore.

Outside our hotel and just down the block is a busy corner with a Wawee Coffee.  Wawee is a Chiang Mai based chain that offers very tasty coffee.  I made a few stops there over our vacation and enjoyed lingering and watching the people pass.  The customers were almost exclusively tourists, which left me feeling itchy, but they also provided several interesting people watching episodes.

Passionfruit meringue pie.  Oh, this was very good!

The intersection at which the Wawee Coffee sits is a microcosm of Chiang Mai or, at least, the touristy part of Chiang Mai.  Let’s talk about what you can see at this corner. 

This corner seemed to be a magnet for the lost and disoriented travelers.  As I sat there, I saw group after group stop at the corner and struggle with their Lonely Planet guidebook or maps, puzzling over the directions, and then head off down the street.  Sure enough, a few minutes later they would come back, evaluate their books or maps again, and head off in another direction. 

At this corner, a Thai man (in camo shorts) was speaking with lost tourists.  He speaks proficient English and asks the tourists where they are going.  He gives them directions and then suggests they take a tuk-tuk (the three wheel vehicle in the background), which of course is conveniently waiting.  It is conveniently overpriced, too.

Another thing you can see in this picture is a pair of foreigners on a rented motorbike.  So many tourists rent bicycles and motorbikes in Chiang Mai.  I have to wonder how many accidents there are.  As I drove about town, I watched as tourists rode either dangerously fast or dangerously unaware of traffic around them.  Thai drivers are aggressive and the streets in the old city are narrow.  Not much room for foolish and inexperienced tourists.

Two other common sights in Chiang Mai are shown in this picture.  First, the yellow (actually, usually red) pickup truck with covered seating in the back, which are called “song taews”.  The name means “two rows” and refers to the two benches in the back of the truck.  These are used something like taxis in that they don’t usually operate a fixed route.  You flag one down (it may or may not have a sign indicating where it is heading) and name your destination.  If the song taew is heading that general direction, you can hop on, otherwise the driver will wave you off.  Fares are negotiated but are usually inexpensive.  It is initially a little complicated but ends up being a pretty effective way to get about. 

The second common sight is the side-saddle female passengers on the motorbikes.  You see this throughout Thailand and I’m always startled by how effectively these ladies manage to balance themselves.

The final common sight are monks.  Chiang Mai is home to two monastic universities and scores of temples and you see a greater concentration of monks and novices here than anyplace else in Thailand.  A snapshot of Chiang Mai would be incomplete without some saffron robes in it!  More about monks in Chiang Mai in the next entry.

Festive decorations celebrate the reopening of Terminal 1

We traveled to Chiang Mai by air, flying Nok Air from Don Mueang Airport.  Until September 2005, Don Mueang was Bangkok’s sole airport.  After the opening of Suvarnabhumi International Airport, operations at Don Mueang are now limited to three domestic carriers and certain military, diplomatic, private, and charter flights.  Everything else operates from Suvarnabhumi.

Just outside the security area there is a great deal of empty space.

Three days before our departure, Airports of Thailand, the publicly-traded company that operates Don Mueang, Suvarnabhumi, and four other Thai airports, switched operations at Don Mueang from the domestic terminal to international terminal #1.  The reasoning for this seems a bit unclear, as AOT’s own announcement projected traffic at Don Mueang to reach just under 4 million passengers this year, well below the old domestic terminal’s capacity of 11 million.  Terminal 1 has a stated capacity of 16 million.

Scattered passengers inside the secured area with a sign for the sole restaurant: Burger King.

The physical space has increased from just under 42,000 square meters to almost 60,000.  While AOT claims to have spent a significant sum preparing for the reopening of Terminal 1, the interior remains very shabby and quite forlorn.  Instead of operating from one pier, there are now two piers in operation, resulting in a very long walk between gate areas.  Thankfully, most passengers at this airport are not connecting but are instead ending their flights here in Bangkok.

The two major airlines at Don Mueang – Orient Thai and Nok Air – are visible in the background.

The budget for decorations must have been extraordinarily low as AOT staff have hung balloons and made this “getaway island” display that looks borrowed from a secondary school prom.  The one thing that seems to be working well, perhaps even too well, is the air conditioning.  The gate areas were chilly.  Shopping facilities inside the secured area are limited with only one restaurant and, in the former THAI Airways Royal Orchid Lounge, a massage parlor.

Orient Thai Boeing 737 waiting to enter service.

Orient Thai, formerly known as “One Two Go”, seems to have acquired a Boeing 737-400 for its fleet.  Sure enough, three days later I read in the paper that they are phasing out their MD-80s in favor of the 737s, which despite having fuel-saving winglets installed are twenty-year-old technology.  Besides Orient Thai and Nok Air, the other airline operating from Don Mueang is Solar Air, a small prop-jet operation.

Nok Air Boeing 737 pulls into gate 35 at Don Mueang.

Our jet, a Nok Air Boeing 737-400, pulls into the gate.  The airline recently announced plans to introduce an updated version of these jets, the -800 model, this year.  “Nok” means “bird” in Thai, so each of the planes is painted to look like a bird with a playful beak painted on the nose.  THAI Airways International owns 39% of Nok Air and, ostensibly, Nok Air is the lower cost feeder carrier for THAI, taking over most of the larger carrier’s domestic routes.  There has been, however, considerable friction between the two airlines and THAI has indicated plans to create its own low-cost operation separate from Nok.

When’s the last time you received a free snack on a domestic US airline flight?

Nok Air is actually a decent enough airline.  It features assigned seats, free checked baggage, and snacks on the flights, things the largest domestic airline, Thai Air Asia, does not offer.  On our flight up to Chiang Mai, we received this Nok Bag with an Auntie Anne’s chocolate pretzel stick and a container of water.  On the way back to Bangkok, the Nok Bag contained some coconut cake.  Not bad for an hour-long flight!

We arrived on Wednesday afternoon in an overcast and slightly drizzly Chiang Mai for four days of relaxation.  More about that soon.

Apologies for my brief absence from Xanga.  Tawn and I are on a four-day holiday up in Chiang Mai and I did not bring my computer.  Am eating a great deal of tasty Northern Thai food, about which I will write upon my return.

After a year’s delay caused by the May 2010 political protests and subsequent fires, Taiwanese dumpling chain Din Tai Fung recently opened its first branch in Thailand at the Central World Plaza mall at the Ratchaprasong intersection.  Last week, Tawn and I made a trip there to see how well it upholds the chain’s reputation.  The results?  Overall, positive, but a little bland.

I almost didn’t write this entry because, well, how many times do I need to post pictures of food from Din Tai Fung?  I’ve been twice in Taipei and then again in Hong Kong and Singapore.  The pictures never look that different.  But I waited more than a year for this branch to open and I thought it would be a shame not to give it due consideration.

One feature of Din Tai Fung locations is that the kitchen, or at least the dumpling making portion, is very visible.  The company takes pride in how they operate and their cleanliness is a sign of quality.  Plus, the army of cooks making thousands of dumplings is impressive to watch.  Here are some photos I took, which I think looked a little more interesting in black and white.

The dining area faces large windows overlooking the Big C Supercenter across the street, letting in lots of natural light.  Another seating area is open to the rest of the mall, which leaves you feeling a bit exposed.

The logos on the spoon and napkin have the Chinese, English, Japanese, and Thai versions of the restaurant’s name.  The lady working the front counter, taking names, and coordinating orders was from the Singapore branch, leaving me curious about how they manage operations in different countries.  Is this a franchise location or is it owned directly by the original company in Taiwan?

We started with a special “Oriental Salad in Vinegar Dressing,” which is a combination of seaweed, sprouts, mung bean noodles, and thinly sliced vegetables.  While a tasty combination, it was underseasoned and benefitted greatly from a hearty splash of soy sauce.

Sliced ginger in a mixture of soy sauce and vinegar, the ideal condiment into which you should dip your bao, or dumplings.

The original Xiao Long Bao, steamed pork dumplings.  Here in Bangkok, as well as in the Hong Kong location, I felt that the filling was under-seasoned.  My memory from Taipei is that the dumplings were full of flavor, but perhaps I need to go back and test that memory.

Another variation on the dumplings, this one with vegetables and pork.  The filling was more flavorful than with the original Xiao Long Bao.

Perhaps my favorite dish, the wontons with black vinegar and chilli oil.  Stuffed with shrimp, these lightly sweet dumplings are served in a sauce that is not as frighteningly spicy as you might imagine. 

A good concluding dish was the fried rice topped with pork chop.  The lack of flavor in the bao was made up for by the pork chop, which was liberally dusted in salt and pepper.

If you are thinking of ordering dessert at the Bangkok branch, be advised that nothing is yet available.  I didn’t ask why but perhaps one day they will fix whatever problem they are having.

All told, the quality continues to be high and the Din Tai Fung company can be confident that their good name will be upheld here.  I’m left with the lingering question of whether the blandness in their dumplings is something that I just didn’t notice at the original locations in Taipei and the Singapore location, too, or are the dumplings actually less flavorful here and in Hong Kong?  Further tests will have to be conducted!

Meanwhile, I am glad our wait for Din Tai Fung is over.

Most weeknights, Tawn and I try to eat dinner at home.  Whatever I cook, it almost always includes a salad with lots of vegetables.  This is our attempt to fill up on veggies, rather than on meats and carbs.  Sometimes, I try for something a little fancier like this steak salad with thin slices of American sirloin, roasted red peppers and onions, and shavings of Parmesan cheese.  Most of the time, though, the salads are a little less ambitious.

Weekday breakfasts are also eat at home meals, usually oatmeal with a combination of dried fruits and nuts, sometimes with a little quinoa, which provides some protein to start my day.  Since I work from home, my lunches are also usually eaten at home, often leftovers from dinner the night before.  From time to time, though, I will step out for lunch, stopping most often at a neighborhood ramen shop for some noodles.

All this weekday eating at home is offset by frequent social events on the weekends, when we end up eating out for most of the meals.  On both Saturday and Sunday this past weekend, we had engagements for lunch and dinner.  The odd calculus of this pattern of socializing is that while my wallet gets thinner, my mid-drift gets thicker.

This cartoon from this week’s Economist magazine summarizes how I feel about the debt limit debacle going on in Washington right now.  While I think there is blame to be shared by all sides, the obstinacy of the Tea Party Republicans to not accept any revenue increases, even if they are only in the form of closing tax loopholes, shows a fiscal illiteracy that is reckless.  The deficit cannot be tackled through spending cuts alone.

I was discussing this over lunch this afternoon with a mixed crowd of Thais, Australians, and a Canadian.  They all would like to know why American politicians are behaving like this.  I’d like to know, too.