Felfela, Cairo

Upon arriving in Cairo, we only knew one thing: we had to eat ful. Ful is Egypt's national dish, made out of fava beans. I know ful from Israel, as a hummus topping that I usually avoid. But in Egypt, ful replaces hummus as the condiment (meal) of choice and I didn't know how I would handle it. I was skeptical. 

A trick I've learned: when arriving in a foreign country, the best person to ask for the best local fare is... your taxi driver. Every taxi driver has his own opinion, but he usually knows what's best. For a full day, every taxi driver we asked about ful told us the same thing: felfela. 

As luck has it, Felfela was just down the street from our hostel. It appeared to be a chain; say, a local Egyptian McDonalds for the fava bean lovers. We knew we had been misguided, apparently no taxi driver thinks Americans can handle the real deal, the down and dirty of ful. But we wanted to try it anyway. 

The menu was loaded. Shawarma, ful, falafel, koshari... all the local goodies. And the best part: nothing for over two pounds, an equivalent of less than 50 cents! Oh baby, let's splurge.

You order the food up front and then wait for your meal to pop out of this tiny window. We went at lunch time, so there was a long long line, but we still didn't have to wait more than a few minutes for our food. 

First things first: When traveling, it's crucial to try the local specialties. This is Koshari, a staple of Egyptian street food. It consists of pasta, rice, lentils, chickpeas and fried onions, all covered in tomato sauce. Mix, mix, mix and you have a great combination. I specifically loved (and wanted more of) the lentils and fried onions, and would have liked a little less pasta, but it was still a flawless combination. And filling! Definitely more than just a side dish. 

I also ordered the mix sandwich, which contained ful, eggplant and falafel. Perfect for me! Falafel in Egypt (also called Ta'amiya) is made out of fava beans, different than the chickpea based Israeli balls. The debate was heated between Egypt and Israeli falafel, but I personally think that these fava falafel were so much better! They were bigger and crunchier and green inside. I loved them. Plus, the whole sandwich tasted so much fresher than an Israeli falafel sandwich, where you end up feeling sick from fried-ness for days afterwards. (But you always end up coming back for more... grrr) The eggplant salad tricked me into thinking I was eating healthy. I couldn't really taste the ful, but it didn't matter, because Felfele is not about ful. It's about fast, good, Egyptian food. 



A success! Especially the koshari. We ended up going back to Felfela the next day too, even though it was just a fast food chain. I mean, come on, everyone's doing it. 

Abu Hasaan

I'm back in Israel! This time, living on my own. Earlier this year, while my roommate and I browsed craigslist desperately in search of budget living options, I had only one requirement: that our summer digs be at least within a reasonable range of Abu Hasaan, my favorite place in the whole world.

The hummus culture of Israel is defining; a crucial part of eating in this country is understanding and appreciating a hummusia (a hummus joint). At a real, classic, Arab hummusia, hummus is the only item on the non-existent menu. You can order hummus in any way you want: with ful (beans), with egg, with hot sauce. My favorite is when there's a masabacha option, a hummus variant that is creamier. Usually, a good hummus plate comes with zatar, charif spice, full chickpeas, and puddles of olive oil. On the side, obviously a big pile of pita is a requirement, but usually a plate of onion, tomato and pickles arrive too.

Here's when you know good hummus: when you don't need the pita because you'd rather eat the whole plate like soup with a spoon. 

The hummus debate in Israel becomes personal, fast. Everyone has their favorite hummusia and their preferred way of eating each delicious bowl. There's obviously Abu Shukri located centrally in Jerusalem's old city, where the hummus comes with falafel balls. Then there's Hummus Said in Akko, with the creamiest and softest chickpeas you'll ever find. But in my mind, there's no competition: Yaffo's Abu Hasaan is, far and away, the best hummus in Israel.

All of these people lined up outside at 11 am seem to agree:

The restaurant is just these few tables, where everyone crams in with strangers at any open seat opportunity. You sit next to who ever is there and watch them scoop up the last drops of hummus as you wait impatiently for yours to arrive. Although the wait is short: you order your plate on the way to your seat, and usually by the time you're settled, a fresh plate is already on its way.
Simplicity is beauty.
And here it is! A full plate of masabacha. This plate just melted in my mouth, a perfect blend of all the different ingredients that are meant to be joined. The olive oil seeps into the eggy puree, and gets accentuated by the spices on top. It's actually.. perfect. I like to cut up little onion pieces for a little zest, but to each his own. 
Abu Hasaan is only open from 11-3, so go quick. You'll be bursting with heaviness after your plate, but you won't mind. If you have the will power, walk up the street and buy a knafe at the dessert shop up the street.

Peace, love and hummus. 

Seafood Market of Manila, The Philippines

At the seafood market of Manila, the food experience is highly interactive. You enter, and walk through an alley way where the fish smells immediately overwhelm. All of a sudden, "buy my lobster, ma'am". "You want squid, ma'am". "Big tiger prawns.. ma'am." The most polite way I've ever been hassled, but being hassled all the same. Rows and rows of women sitting in buckets of live crabs, followed by mountains of mussels, and aquariums of you name it. And the best part? This is where you pick your food, and then, voila, a restaurant next door cooks it for you.

We decided on "Squared", one of the many restaurants adjacent to the market. Our waitor, Jerry, took us on a tour where we were to decide our seafood items. Each vendor tries to reel you in (no pun intended). This man showed us his tiger prawns and crabs, hoping to win our money over his next door neighbor.

The food is fresh, exotic, authentic. Take a look at the colors of these lobsters! These are no shabby crustaceans.
We obviously started by choosing a lobster. What is a gourmet seafood feast without lobster? After weeding through the blues, greens, and pinks of the regular lobsters, we chose our future meal. Weighing in at a whopping 2.3 kilos, here's our first course:

Next, were the shrimps. A half kilo of these meaty crawlers, freshly iced.

Monica wanted to try shelled fish. I think she thought the whole open-swallow-chew process would be fun. But for a non fish eater, that's a pretty bold move. We landed on mussels, which seemed the tamest of our options. Next were scallops, my dad's favorites.And then... freshly caught before our eyes... a live lapu-lapu fish.
Here is Jerry, carrying our catch to the restaurant.
Next, it was on us to decide how each should be cooked. The lighting in the restaurant wasn't condusive to good photos, but here are a few:

Lapu-Lapu, steamed with soy sauce.Scallops, purely baked. Naked.And... oh baby... a monster of a lobster loaded with sweet chili sauce.
And then of course, we had the mussels steamed with onion dipping sauce, and the shrimp cooked with butter-garlic amazingness.

My clear winner was the lobster. I wanted to put the sauce all over me and live in a bucket of it. I loaded up a bowl with rice, lobster, sauce, and the eggplant we ordered for my vegetarian friends (if I can even call them friends when they skipped this amazing meal...). The combinations were superb. Lobster is just so thick, so real, and you forget that you're eating about a billion calories of cholesterol because you just float on an indulgent cloud until you explode from fullness.

Monica liked the shrimp best, but mostly for the sauce (can't really go wrong with garlic and butter.) The texture of shrimp prompted a large debate at the table. The outcome was negligible because all I really learned was that real fish eaters like shrimp, and people who don't like shrimp texture are just not made for fine dining.

I would also like to note that fish is best when cooked in a light sauce. I felt that way in Turkey, and tonight's soy sauce subtelty only reinforced my theory. Just a reminder for the next time I cook fish.

And finally, for us real fish lovers: naked scallops are wonderful. If you can handle them in sauce, you should be able to appreciate them plain. And really, the same goes for mussels. I may have learned tonight that all those shell-creatures (oysters, mussels, etc...) are not just for the experience, but can also be a real delicacy. I'm not saying I'm jumping for the next opportunity to slip that slime down my throat, but I am starting to like them for their taste.

I don't know how this always happens, but once again, at the end of the meal all the empty dishes were crowded around yours truly. Mmm... worth it though. All my stomach pain and fullness... so worth it.

Our Best Meal So Far

We thought we couldn't top our Father's Day Buffet last night. We thought it could not be done. We spent two hours in heaven last night, at an all-you-can-eat buffet at the top of a mall in Ho Chi Minh City. The stations were: create your own pasta, pizza, tempura, sushi, shelled fishes (four types of snails or mussels), hot-pot (raw items to be cooked at a boiling pot of water at your table- including meats, fishes and vegetables), seafood (stir fry shrimp, seafood gratin, fish in cream sauce), soup (chicken beef or veggie), spring rolls, hot foods (all meats imaginable, rice, noodles, veggies), salad bar, dessert bar, ice cream truck, crepes.

I left FULL. We had tried to make it a competition, but it wasn't really a fair one because Monica can NOT keep up with the power-stomachs that Eli and I trained for buffets. Buffets are all about strategy, no novice could compete with old time buffet pros. It's all about snacking while you walk from station to station, starting out small, working your way up, not wasting stomach space on something you don't love. Puhleeeeeeese, don't mess with me.

Anyway, we thought it was the best meal possible. For food and for experience, there was no other way we would have been able to sample Vietnamese food so freely. But then.. today happened.

Walking around Ho Chi Minh City looking for a place to eat pho, we stumbled across a low hanging awning covering 60 or so loud, beer drinking men. We just stopped and watched them for a while until Eli suggested we join them.

He was SO right. Being the only westerners, and one of very few women, the three of us got STARED DOWN as we walked to an empty table in the back. But these weren't stares of anger; veryone in the place wanted us to be there so badly. Within about thirty seconds of being seated, three beer glasses were put in front of us and the table of men next to us raised their glasses to us. This would become a theme throughout our lunch- we were toasted about every 3 minutes from all surrounding tables. So many times in fact, that I often had to interrupt a bite to take a swig of beer. I wonder how many half chewed pieces of mushroom I swallowed trying to keep up... I also think my thumb is sore from all the thumbs-up I had to reciprocate.

We didn't know what to order so I took a stroll around other tables to see if there was anything in common. As I walked by tables, everyone wanted me to have what they were having. Coaxed into one table, I was hand fed a piece of beef and some french fries from a man's chopsticks. And when I liked it, they couldn't have been happier. Afterwards, they watched me order and I felt a lot of pressure to order their beef, but I didn't. It was good though, I promise!

They loved us.

We finally decided: the stupid vegetarians ordering fried rice and tofu, while I got mushroom prawns. Then, as the menu was being taken from me, I noticed an eggplant dish and quickly added that to my list too, becuase, come on, it's eggplant.

The shrimp was so good. The huge black mushrooms were fresh and covered in garlic, and the shrimp blended so well into the whole dish. I've eaten shrimp once or twice a day since entering Vietnam, but these were the best yet.

My eggplant though... ahh, clear winner. Freshly grilled, the egglpant was cut in cubes as opposed to the thin American slices I'm used to. This changed everything- making the dish about the EGGPLANT and not about the sauce. I tried it first plain, but it tasted just like grilled eggplant. Way better with the sweet sauce they gave me on the side. Not that I wouldn't have eaten it plain, obviously I would have loved it. It's just better with sauce.

Eli and I love eggplant. LOVE. Compete in loving it, even. So when Eli first tried the eggplant without the sauce and didn't love it, I accused him of not being a true eggplant lover. A true eggplant lover would love their eggplant, even if it's naked. He was MAD. All day he's been trying to tell me all the reasons he loves eggplant, how he loves eggplant prepared, how often he eats it. Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. I'm just saying that I ate most of the dish and I like it plain too.

Finally- it's important to mention the beer. Saigon beer, named for the city herself. It was spicy! And also.. salty? It made my tongue tingle. But both Eli and Monica agreed, it was salty. I really liked it though.

The whole lunch was a trip. Being cheered for eating, being applauded for just being there. And the whole place didn't even have a name, I don't think. It was just a hole in the wall for the locals. But we found it, and therefore, we won.

Struggles in Vietnam

First, we were only wary of hygeine. Not just because South East Asia has the "travelers diarrhea" reputation preceding it. In Vietnam, food is more than just street food. It's cooked on the street, eaten on the steet, everything on the street. We literally had to walk in between a person and his table just to walk on the sidewalk. Talk about no privacy. When someone is preparing your food right next to a smogging motorcycle and a stray cat and a pile of dirty dishes, I'm not really inclined to feel comfortable eating there.

Second problem: vegetarianism. I'm adamemtly not picky about food on principle, but seeing raw brains and raw octopus sort of sent me reeling. We made an unspoken "only vegetarian" rule for all sketchy street stalls, but we didn't know that this rule would be impossible to uphold. You can NOT eat vegetarian in Vietnam. You just can't. The snack food has pieces of dried pork on top. When we pull out the guide book at fancy, real, with-doors, restaurants to show the waitress "no meat or fish", she actually DID NOT understand and had NOTHING to offer us.

Third problem: No one in this country speaks english.

But, on the upside- Vietnam is my favorite place to eat so far. The food, whatever comes out, is always so good. I've mastered chopsticks, and am no longer shy to ask for help when I can only stare dumbfounded at what's in front of me. And the French influence! Mmm Mmm Good. Baguettes and croissants and all the desserts I could ask for. The smells wafting out of street side bakeries do their best to cover up the fumes and motorcycle exhaust...

Laos

I don't have good pictures or much to say about Lao food. There isn't much to say, actually, because there isn't actually "Lao" food. Most people make a variation of Thai treats in their homes, as its much cheaper that way. So when you go to a Lao restaurant, you mostly get Thai food with more garlic. Or pizza. I ate a lot of pizza on baguettes; French influence, I guess.

Cooking Class in Chang Mai

Internet here in Laos is not the most condusive to food blogging. However, a quick look at a day-long cooking class we took in Chang Mai to learn Thai food...

First: our instructer, Gay-ray, takes us to the market to explain all our necessary ingredients. I know now the difference between types of lime (smooth for garnish, bumpy for curry), cocunut milk and cream (milk has water too, cream is first squeeze), crushed and fresh ginger, etc, etc... Also, if you have a bug bite, rub some yellow tamaric on the itch and it shall soon disappear... old Thai remedy!

Look how small the eggplants are in Thailand. As Gay-Ray says, "Thai people, very small. Thai vegetables very small. Small but big flavor!"
A billion different types of rice...

And then, our welcome snack to prepare us for the day. Wrapped in a leaf (I forget which kind) is a mixture of: chili pepper, onion, ginger, dried prawns, peanuts, baked coconut and sweet fish sauce. All in one bite or it's not worth it. It was SO good. Apparently, the King serves this when officials come to Thailand for a visit. It has the perfect mix of crunchy, salty, sweet , fresh... everything.



We were to cook 7 courses. I was SO full by the end. Here's how we started: with the classic pad thai. Basically, just frying noodles with garlic, veggies, fish sauce, oyster sauce, chicken. It only takes about 2 minutes for the whole process in the wok and it's so easy. Definitely a must try at home.
Next was spring rolls. We made the inside filling by basically making pad thai all over again, and then wrapping it in the dough and frying it in a mound of oil. Also so easy! Get ready to eat this at my dinner parties in the future.
Our last appetizer was papaya salad. Shredded papaya, tomato, chili pepper, green beans, carrots.. all mashed together with lime, garlic, and other flavors. So good!


Look what I did!



Now on to the big stuff. Making curry is an ORDEAL. First you have to choose which kind (Eli and I chose Massaman because we like peanuts), then the right ratio of ingredients, then mash it all together like you've never been angrier until you get the perfect paste consistency!
Green curry paste, red curry, massaman and panang. Mine is the best, clearly (top left). It definitely smelled the best because of the peanuts.
And voila! Add a little coconut cream and fry and there you have it. But what's crazy is that Eli and used the same paste, but ours came out so different. I used more paste, boiled it for longer for a thicker consistency, and added more fish sauce. Mine was better. Eli thinks his was better. But mine tasted so peanuty, which is what I wanted. So I guess we both win.

Mine
Eli's.

And then we finished with sticky rice mango, a 6 hour process that we only helped make 20 minutes of. I walked out STUFFED. Literally could not imagine eating ever again. I had a cheeseburger 4 hours later.