Food. Asian Food.

Hey, have I mentioned that I recently went on a trip to Southeast Asia? Yes? Many times? OK. Just let me tell you about what I put in my face while I was there. Then I'll stop. Maybe.

I know it will make me sound like a silly Westerner, but I think the most satisfying meal I had on the trip was Pad Thai that I bought from a street vendor on Khao San Road in Bangkok. I picked out the variety of noodle and ingredients I wanted (chicken, eggs, and shrimp were the options, I went with the first two) and then watched as the street chef tossed it all together over the skillet with some mystery sauce. I grinned like a shithead while she handed it to me, seasoned it to my liking with crushed peanuts and red pepper flakes, then I plopped down on a curb behind her cart, and commenced shoving it into my face, until it was gone. I wake up in the night, thinking about that meal.

It's probably no surprise that the pho in Vietnam ruined me for all future stateside beef noodle soup encounters. And what's sad is I think even Vietnam's fast pho beat out my hometown standby. But the version that all others will from now on fall short of came from a little place called Pho Gia, just a couple blocks away from where we were staying. The broth was fragrant, the noodles were wide and homemade, the beef tender, the veggies fresh... OH MY GOD I WANT SOME NOW. Pho is actually breakfast in Vietnam, which meant that I usually accompanied it with a Cafe Sua da - some high-octane French coffee cut with sweetened condensed milk, over ice. After the first one I was convinced I'd left my body. (There was some jet lag involved, too.)

In Vietnam, the pho certainly stole the show in my eyes, but I can't write a post about food and not mention the elephant ear fish that I had at a home stay in the Mekong Delta. Extra points for presentation.

So. Confession time. I didn't give Malaysia a fair shake when it came to their native cuisine. I ate at Pizza Hut. Twice. In my defense, I also climbed a mountain there. Which is my default excuse for a lot of questionable Borneo behavior. Like mixing Chinese cooking liquor with Coke, referring to it as "shandy" and drinking it almost every evening because we didn't realize it was... Chinese cooking liquor. Did I mention I climbed a mountain? Yep, totally playing the mountain card.

But as hard as I tried to evade any hint of culture, I managed to stumble upon a traditional Malaysian breakfast: Laksa. Not to be outdone by the Vietnamese in the breakfast department, the fine people of Borneo start the day with this spicy peanut soup with chicken, shrimp, and rice noodles. And that black thing in the background is iced coffee, sans condensed milk. Get it with milk.

OK, here I am, still talking - but there's so much more I haven't even touched on! Like the inch-think pancake in Koh Lanta with the bananas inside, and the smoothies! The pomelo and jackfruit, the red bean ice cream! Not to mention the fantastic Indian food I had in Saigon, and the curries in Thailand! I could go on and on. But I'll do my best to stop. Or at least mix it up a bit. No promises.