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.

I am bigfoot.  My feet are long and they are wide.  That has always made finding comfortable shoes (especially stylish ones) a challenge.  The problem is that for an untold number of years, I've been buying shoes that are too small for my feet.  It wasn't until I stopped at a New Balance shoe store in Torrance, California last month, that I met a man who led me out of the shoe size darkness and into the light.

You may wonder how it is that, if I knew my feet were long and wide, I continued getting shoes that were too small for my feet.  In retrospect, I feel kind of silly about the whole thing.  What happened was this: since graduating from college, I've had it in my mind that I wear a size 10.5, 2E width.  That has been the gospel truth, in my mind if not in reality, and so always tried shoes in that size.

Sometimes the shoes felt like they fit well, other times it was clear that they didn't, but they were always pretty snug.  Sometimes the shoes that felt like they fit well ended up not fitting so well once I brought them home, often pinching my small toes.  Over time, I had come to accept that this was just my lot in life as someone with wide feet, and would stick loyally to the few pairs I had that were truly comfortable.

So it was something of a revelation when I walked into the New Balance store on a whim and the assistant manager, an affable young man named Matt, listened to my complaints about the difficulty I have in finding shoes that fit and asked, "When was the last time you measured your feet?"

Of course, this is one of those questions that shouldn't catch someone by surprise.  But I was stumped by this trick question.  A long silence lingered, as I searched my mind for an answer.  "I don't know that I've had my feet measured anytime in the last two decades," I responded with a twinge of guilt.  With that, Matt suggested that measuring my feet would be the right place to start.

You will not be surprised to learn that I'm not a size 10.5, 2E.  In fact, according to his measurements, I'm a size 11, 4E.  Half a size longer, one size wider.  This would go a long way towards explaining why some pairs of shoes I bought in size 10.5, 2E would still pinch my toes.  THEY WEREN'T WIDE ENOUGH!

Matt also had me stand on a mat that measures how I distribute my weight, which showed that I put more weight on the balls of my feet than I should.  That would explain the problem I had a few months ago with tendonitis in the front of my left foot.  (As I write this, I'm amazed at how obvious these things now seem, and how inexplicable they were back then.)

We looked through a variety of shoes and Matt explained that even at a single manufacturer, the shapes of the shoes vary.  He pointed me to one particular model, the 993, which is a classic New Balance shoe and is cut wider through the "toe box" - a term I had never heard before.  Sure enough, trying a pair of these in the right size and with the right shoe insert was an amazing experience.  The shoes actually felt roomy and comfortable instead of tight and cramped.  I also noticed that I was putting more weight on my heels instead of the balls of my feet.

I left the store with two pairs, one in grey and another in navy blue, and a profound respect for just how much comfort a professional shoe salesperson can bring to another human being.  Looking back, I still wonder how it is that I managed to go so many years without measuring my feet.  Maybe it is because at most shoe stores, no salesperson ever suggests it.  The future feels a little brighter, though, now that I've found bigfoot. 

The last night of our June trip to California was spent in Oceanside, a small beach town in northern San Diego County, visiting friends.  The following morning, I decided on a whim to search for a French patisserie, or pastry shop.  Perhaps I was in the mood for something like Tartine, a corner bakery in San Francisco's Mission District that I make it a point to visit each time I'm there.  We ended up driving a quirky route through the hills until we wound up at Loïc, a bistro and patisserie in Rancho Santa Fe.

The bistro and patisserie are adjacent buildings nestled in a small shopping complex at the foot of a large housing development.  The design is meant to evoke an Italian village, which it more or less succeeds in doing.

Would an Italian village have a parking lot like this?  Probably not.  Just a small concession to Southern California's car culture.

The interior of the patisserie was a little stark but the smell and sight of freshly baked goods were every bit as welcoming as the lady working behind the counter. 

As we ordered, the lady explained that the chef is French.  After several years working aboard cruise ships, he decided to settle in the Rancho Santa Fe area and open his own restaurant and patisserie.

We sat in some comfy chairs, sipped our café au lait, and picked apart our croissants, smearing eat bite with jam and pretending we were back in Paris.  The croissants were very nice: light, flaky, and buttery - everything one wants in a croissant. 

Afterwards, we took a few more pictures then climbed back in the car for our drive back to Orange County, where we met another Xangan for lunch.

The thought occurred to me the other day that maybe the problem of the never-ending campaign, in which it seems America has no sooner finished one election season than another begins, would be to change the length of terms to which politicians are elected.

Currently, the President is elected to a four-year term with a maximum of two terms.  Senators are elected for six-year terms, with approximately a third of the Senators up for election every two years.  Representatives are elected for two-year terms with the entire House of Representatives up for election at the same time.

What, then, if we changed the President to a single, six-year term with no chance for re-election?  Senators could remain a six-year term, but modify it so half the body changes every three years.  Representatives could be increased to three-year terms.

It would seem that the upshot would be a bit more time between election seasons, allowing for more opportunity to govern.  Especially for the President, since he or she could not be re-elected, there would be more freedom to govern based on one's positions rather than the poll results.

What do you think?  Would there be any pros or cons to this plan?

Three weeks have passed since I rolled up my sleeves and started my balcony vegetable garden and while there are encouraging signs of life, there have also been a few lessons learned.

One of the first lessons learned, almost as quickly as I finished washing the dirt from under my nails, was that I should have started the seeds in small containers and then transplanted them once they grew larger.  With our heavy rains nearly each afternoon, the wee seedlings were being pummeled and the soil wound up splattered all over the balcony, creating a mess.  Plus, there is no direct sun on this side of the building for another month or so.

My solution was to move the pots to the hallway outside our units, where they enjoy some better protection from the rain and at least a few hours of sun in the mornings.  Soon, though, that sun will go away as the star passes directly overhead our building.  At that point, I'll move them back to the balcony.

Here is a container-by-container update:

These are the large Chianti Rose tomatoes.  The cherry tomatoes are at a similar stage, with the second pair of leaves growing.  The cherry tomatoes will also need to be significantly thinned as one 15-inch container is not going to handle a dozen plants.  So far, so good.

The carrots and beets seem to be doing well.  I think I didn't grow enough carrots and I think my beets may be too crowded, but I'm happy to see the frilly leaves on the carrots - a sure sign that they really are carrots.  I've planted some additional carrot seeds in the open spaces between plants.  I realized that each plant produces only one carrot.  For some reason, maybe because I always see carrots in bunches, I expected I might get a bunch of carrots from one plant.  So much for having farmer's blood in my veins.

The two mini bell pepper plants are doing well, also with a second pair of leaves forming.  There is another sprout coming up in the background but I don't think this is a pepper plant.  Not sure what sort of interloper it is.  Curious, though, as I know I planted at least three pepper seeds.

On to the mixed herbs container: These two stalks are growing in the area I planted parsley seeds.  I'm not sure what baby parsley plants are supposed to look like, but this isn't what I had in mind.  Am I not looking for crinkly leaves?  Do those just grow in later?

The first hints of what may possibly be cilantro peeking up through the soil.  These little green flecks have scarcely grown in a week.  The rosemary seems to be missing in action.

The Italian basil is doing well, not seeming to mind their close quarters.  I'm looking forward to having the basil developed enough to cook with, although I guess I could eat the young shoots, too.

That's all from the farm.  Stay tuned for more details in another few weeks!

Wikipedia

While in Los Angeles last month, Tawn and I slipped up to The Grove, a shopping and entertainment center near the Farmers' Market located at Third and Fairfax Streets near CBS Studios.  While there, we met with a pair of Xangans who were down in LA for the weekend, and also observed first-hand the disturbing trend known as the American Girl Doll.

The Grove is another of these recent developments built to approximate the feel of a real downtown, except with a Disney-esque sense of artifice.  An electric tram runs down the middle of the "street" past big box stores that, if it weren't for their elaborate façades, would look like any other strip mall.  It is a nice space, much in the same way that Main Street, U.S.A. is a nice place, but I think I'd prefer to stroll down a real main street rather than a recently built recreation.

Borrowed from someone on the internet for non-commercial use.

Prominently placed on the main shopping thoroughfare is the American Girl Doll store.  Have you heard of this trend?  It simultaneously fascinates and disturbs me.

The roots of the American Girl Doll are generally impressive.  Originally released in the mid-1980s, these 18-inch dolls represented 10-year old girls from a variety of periods in American history.  They were dressed in period-appropriate costume and were accompanied by a series of books targeted to 8-13 year olds that brought the characters to life while addressing (in an age-appropriate manner) subjects such as poverty, racism, child labor, etc.  In short, a compelling way for young people to identify with and learn about history.

American Girl website

In the mid-1990s, though, a "Just Like You" line was released, with dolls representing a wide range of skin tones and eye and hair colors, so that you could purchase a doll that looked just like you.  A variety of accessories are available including matching outfits.  (See the picture above.)  The dolls, sans accessories, cost $100, a price that strikes me as ridiculously expensive for a toy targeted at pre-teens.

On the one hand, I can see a lot of positives about a doll that reflects the wide diversity that exists in our world.  Certainly, any number of women of color have shared stories about not being able to find dolls when they were children that looked like them.  At the same time, especially when you can even wear the same clothes as your doll, this seems to be furthering the growth of unhealthy narcissism.  Not only are we gazing more at our own navels, but now we can have a dolls whose navels look like ours.

What was even more disturbing, though, was walking into the store and seeing two display cases containing rows of the identically-dressed dolls wearing numbers.  Maybe this is just a sensitivity to the too-visible sex trade that exists in Thailand, but this image of women lined up behind a glass wall, wearing numbers and waiting for you to choose them, is especially disturbing.

I don't know what to make of the whole thing.  As I mentioned early, it is both fascinating and disturbing.  Reading more about the American Girl Doll phenomenon, the company (now owned by Mattel) seems to do a lot of philanthropy and there are many opportunities for young girls to learn important lessons about the world and about issues they may not often hear about.  The messages on the walls of the store - "A confident girl believes in herself!" - are potentially empowering.  That said, I'm still a bit disturbed.

Courtesy Sheening

The best thing that came out of the experience was the opportunity to finally meet Piyapong, one of those Xangans who doesn't blog often but whose posts are still interesting.  Also met Sheening again, but he hasn't blogged in so long on Xanga that I'm not even sure what his user name is anymore.

In the July 9 issue of The Economist magazine, I read this interesting article about why it is so difficult to stir up public sentiment in the United States against the wealthy.  For example, why do so many people get riled up about the idea of eliminating the tax cuts for the wealthiest people, when we're talking about 2% of the population who are radically better off than the other 98% of the population?

One paragraph in particular caught my attention:

“The point here is only that Americans do not seem to mind about the widening inequality of income and wealth as much as you might expect them to in current circumstances. By and large, they have preferred opportunity to leveling; equality of opportunity rather than equality of outcome.  The trouble with this is that America is a long way from providing equal opportunity.”

I continue to wonder why it is that when you talk to people individually, they are very much in favor of creating truly equal opportunity.  Somehow, though, en masse, they become reverse Robin Hoods who support the taking from the poor and giving to the rich.  Even more confusing when it is against their own best interest to do so.

In an attempt to add a little (relatively healthful) variety to my usual breakfast of oatmeal, I bake batches of granola made of rolled oats and barley, nuts, wheat germ, dried coconut, and flax seed, all of which is lightly moistened with a mixture of canola oil and maple syrup and then roasted until lightly browned.  After cooled, I add raisins, dates, or other dried fruit.

Served with some plain yogurt and some fresh fruit - in this case, passion fruit pulp - it makes for a nice breakfast, no?  I'd like to believe it is also a healthful but in addition to the whole grains and good fats, I think it is pretty high in calories.  Thoughts?