You want spicy? Sure?

Kho Lanta, Thailand

I had my first proper spicy Thai curry tonight. A red curry with seafood. Why is this worthy of ending up here? Well, it's not actually easy to get spicy food here if you're a foreigner. It seems too many Farang (Thai: foreigner) complain about spicyness or specifically don't want it or want it and then find out they really didn't. Or it's just the Thais believe their food is so spicy that no Farang could possibly take it. However this may be, restaurants that cater for foreigners will not put a single chilly into a papaya salad and leave curries tasting depressingly bland. So, I always ask for spicy. People look at me, then go away and bring back food that still tastes of nothing. In the end, to taste anything, I have to ask for extremely spicy (which of course in Thai term isn't). I order my papaya salad with three or four chillies (still nothing to average Thai people eating it with ten or so) and get shocked looks, hesitation - "Very spicy" - I have to assure people that they don't need to worry, I know what I'm doing. Really. Then, they watch me very closely to see if I'll react. I always quote the sentence heard in a small eatery in Xi'an, China, where the shopkeeper commented to a customer (not me) that noodles without chilly don't taste good (“凉皮没辣椒不好吃“）. But today, I just mentioned I liked spicy and the lady that ran the little restaurant went and brought back a fiery red curry. It's good being taken seriously once in a while. Thanks!

The Real Kung Fu

Zhuhai, China

Here in Zhuhai I found the most awesome fastfood restaurant ever. I've never seen it anywhere else in China. It's a Chinese chain (at least I assume that) called 真功夫, which translates to "Real Kung Fu". Their logo above these characters is a pop-art-like impression of Bruce Lee in his famous fighting stance wearing the yellow and black training suit he wore in his last movie "Game of Death". I don't really have much else to say - just that it's totally cool! I haven't eaten there yet but I definitely will. I might just not get a chance here because I'm staying with a friend and she wants to cook for me tonight. Maybe there's a shop in Guangzhou, as well.

Update: I found another branch inside the Guangzhou train station. I had dinner there. The food isn't special and probably doesn't do justice to Canonese cooking but I still think the place rocks. The staff wear yellow or black T-shirts with the logo. I actually asked one of the girls at the counter if I could buy one. She said no. I almost begged her. I'd take any old one, no matter if it's used or dirty. I was so sure they must have spares for staff to wear. She was very friendly even though I'm sure she thought I was weird. She politely told me she was sorry, there wasn't one for sale. Oh well, in the end I kept my napkin as a souvenir.

Triple Hot

Chongqing, China

A lot of things are hot about this city.
The weather to start with. The sun has been beating down even despite the haze.
What makes it hotter still are the girls. Chinese people say girls from Chongqing are the most beautiful in all of China. In Chinese they are nicknamed 辣妹子 literally meaning "spicy girl". Their beauty, so people say, comes from the humid air around here or the spicy food, either of which is supposed to be good for your skin (which one it is depends on who you ask). Whatever the reason, girls here are gorgeous. Especially their legs. It's nice walking through the city watching girls showing them off. They get them from all the stairs that lead up and down the hills the city is built on (porters are in high demand here). Anyone that walks those on a daily basis must be toned. And they walk as if their reputation gives them confidence or maybe it's rather the other way around.
Oh, did I mention spicy food that makes you sweat? Hell yeah, I sweat! That's the other thing about Chongqing: the city (with the neighbouring Sichuan Province) is home to some of the spiciest food in China. Specialties (名菜) include 水煮鱼 (fish boiled in chilli broth) and 火锅 (a kind of hot pot or fondue). A local girl I met took me to one of her favourite hot pot restaurants. It was a popular place packed with people of all ages. We were lucky to find a table. Even though this time I already knew what was coming I still marvelled at how much chilli (and the small, mean 花椒) you can put into a single pot. I ate bravely - and I did enjoy it - but I did also consume large amounts of water and soya milk in the process. Don't laugh - you try it!

Sprichwortforschung (proverb research)

Mongolia

I've probably become a bit cocky. I've spent days watching my two Swiss companions refuse pretty much anything local and live on canned food they brought or boiled spaghetti with mashed tomatoes (seems to be the only thing they can think of to make for foreigners who don't want meat - it really doesn't look tasty). For her it's because she's vegetarian, he worries about indigestion because his stomach is sensitive, they both worry about cleanliness of food. Unfortunately for both of them Mongolia is not really a country for vegetarians. Every time our driver has to explain to shop keepers our special needs there's a lot of confused stares and shaking of heads. I've been trying to eat whatever our driver had. And as a former selective eater I'm a bit proud of myself.
I hit my limits sooner than expected, however. When visiting the ger of one of Gorin's friends (he seems to know everybody, no matter how remote the area) we were offered the usual drink of liquor and morsels of home-made cheese. Now, I love cheese and was very curious. Marc and Nicole were cautious but it looked tasty, so when it was my turn I even took one of the bigger pieces. To show I was being keen. I regretted it when I took the first bite.
There was a literal taste explosion in my mouth. Acidic, soapy are adjectives floating around my recollection now. Maybe it's somewhat similar to French Roquefort, which I didn't like either. The thing is, when people are being polite offering your their food you cannot really spit it in front of their feet. So I munched and swallowed. I tried to smile. I think I said something along the lines of, "it's good". I hope I didn't completely embarrass myself. I couldn't really ask for a drink.
Then I was faced with another problem: the rest of the cheese nibble was still in my hand. Tossing it back in the basket was not an option. The tiny morsel suddenly seemed as big as a whole wheel of Dutch Gouda.
I kept it in my hand, toying with it absently while listening to the conversation. I bravely nibbled at it. There was another explosion. How on earth was I going to finish all of it? The question of how to get rid of the cheese seemed a matter of national importance. Finally, when it was time to go I slipped it into my pocket as discreetly as possible. I still wonder if any of our hosts puzzled later at why the strange foreigner kept cheese in his pocket.
This time both the Swiss and me were in agreement that the cheese was way too strong. I quietly dropped the morsel by the road at our next stop. Not a word was said about it. I guess this is what they mean by "bite of more than you can chew".