- First greek salad in Athens. It may have been a tourist trap a few blocks from our first hotel. The place definitely had the fan misting things to cool things down and the waiters spoke excellent English. But tomatoes, olives, lettuce, feta cheese, cucumbers and onions never tasted so good. Following our friend Quinn's advice, I don't think there were a lot of days in Greece where we did not have the namesake salad. That first one was the one that started it all.
2. Fried pig in romania. One never knows when one's world is gonna get rocked. Completely unexpectedly it happened in the boonies in Romania (what was once Hungary) some five kms from where my great grandfather Salamon Simon may have hailed from. The main draw was the proximity to our Hungarian roots and the opportunity to sleep in some crazed Saxon drawer beds. What is etched in our stomachs is the epic chow prepared by the owner of the home we were staying in. The meal redefined the terms "farm to table," "barnyard" and "terroir". Vegetable soup, carrot risotto, cole slaw, and some fried pork ribs that were scandalous. Topped off by some lingonberry crepe. Drinking pink wine and some eau de vie that spoke of the back yard (in the most complimentary way).
3. kabob in sanliurfa. This no brainer screamed out to us as we walked along the main drag looking for the bazaar (which we never found). The piles of fresh mint, cilantro, onion, basil and lime sections caught our eye. The outdoor counter was seemingly at knee level, and we sat in a row with our backs facing the sidewalk. Chunks of tasty grilled meat, a stack of hot flat bread, the above mentioned garnishes along with a few other unidentifiable liquid condiments and you can finish this sentence. Afterwards we topped things off with some pistachio baklava and a family viewing of Spinal Tap. Heaven.
4. in the tent in bhutan. There is something about eating at high altitude. The elevation makes you hungrier and the food tastes better. 11,000 feet up in Bhutan was no exception to the rule. Amongst chortens, prayer flags and yaks drifting around, we snuggled in the mess tent for paneer curry, cucumber salad, rice, broccoli with ginger, and finished up with killer bread pudding done on the camp stove with a special bhutanese bain marie maneuver.
5. morning glory shoots in oyster sauce. We ate this one dollar dish nearly every day we were in cambodia. Have had similar dishes in chinatown featuring pea shoots. But this was the real deal. Especially the night we ate it at at plastic tables/chairs on the sidewalk in siem reap after a day of watting. The cooking occurred in woks on glorified camp stoves seven feet from your ears, the lights were strung up on a fence, and the cash register was a cookie tin. When the lights went out and the music went off, we continued eating morning glory shoots, truly giant prawns and drinking beer along with everybody else.
6. fondue in switzerland. Running late and underestimating the travel time, we ended up taking a desperation cab ride (quel horreur) to get to the Geneva classic, Cafe du Soleil. We rushed out of the cab, into the restaurant and despite some odd stares promptly found our way to a table. When somebody finally came over to see us, it became apparent that our reservation was at the restaurant next door. After sheepishly bailing, we found ourselves at our true destination talking to someone who informed us that there was no reservation for hanson but there was one for benson so some sort of administrative switch was made and the situation was regularized. All very confusing, but culminating successfully with assiette viandes sechees, a flowery white, salade paysanne, and the best fondue i have ever had which magically maintained a perfect consistency throughout the meal. Some secret ingredient is clearly involved (not nutmeg).
7. sardines in greece at the unesco world heritage site (molyvos)? could be mytilini. on the dock. Menu in greek. Stuffed squash blossoms with local cheese. We asked the guy to bring us what he liked. Sardines grilled right out of the ocean. We went back the next night. great success!
8. the grill your own meat spot just outside of Trabzon. We had intended to sleep In Trabzon, but spent an hour driving around trying to find the center of town. There are no street signs in Turkey except for the tiniest alleys. Verbal directions usually include various contradictory suggestions and amazingly kooky estimations of distances. After many frustrating forays, Jill decided to abandon the Trabzon plan. We stopped at what looked like a restaurant, and walked in to find a butcher shop. Smelling grilled meat from the backyard we headed back there and noted some tables and grills. Nobody paid much attention to us as we moseyed about trying to suss things out. No menus anywhere. We were hungry and clueless so we attempted to leave and find something less intimidating. On the way out people started giving us an extensive explanation of the scenario in rapid fire Turkish. Jill and the kids went next door to the market. I finally figured things out with a lot of sign language. Go to the meat counter tell the guy how many koftas (meat patties) you want, he weighs them and then they grill them for you tableside. Sinfully good. Even Ben was happy.
9. pasta with saffron at enzo's. Proving that good friends, good wine, and good spirits can make a winner. We spent a bunch of time at Enzo's house in Geneva (including some time when he and his family were in Italy). Prior to leaving for his folks' house, Enzo and Monica prepared a simple pasta dish that spoke volumes (saffron, marscapone, nutmeg, one egg, grated parm, white pepper.) We had the good fortune to follow up the entree with macaroons and finestkind grappa. Good sleep.
10. peking duck. Got turned around in residential Bejing. Followed the international sign for Peking Duck. Ate Peking duck. i love Peking duck. Game over.
restaurant in tokaj
8. the grill your own meat spot just outside of Trabzon. We had intended to sleep In Trabzon, but spent an hour driving around trying to find the center of town. There are no street signs in Turkey except for the tiniest alleys. Verbal directions usually include various contradictory suggestions and amazingly kooky estimations of distances. After many frustrating forays, Jill decided to abandon the Trabzon plan. We stopped at what looked like a restaurant, and walked in to find a butcher shop. Smelling grilled meat from the backyard we headed back there and noted some tables and grills. Nobody paid much attention to us as we moseyed about trying to suss things out. No menus anywhere. We were hungry and clueless so we attempted to leave and find something less intimidating. On the way out people started giving us an extensive explanation of the scenario in rapid fire Turkish. Jill and the kids went next door to the market. I finally figured things out with a lot of sign language. Go to the meat counter tell the guy how many koftas (meat patties) you want, he weighs them and then they grill them for you tableside. Sinfully good. Even Ben was happy.
9. pasta with saffron at enzo's. Proving that good friends, good wine, and good spirits can make a winner. We spent a bunch of time at Enzo's house in Geneva (including some time when he and his family were in Italy). Prior to leaving for his folks' house, Enzo and Monica prepared a simple pasta dish that spoke volumes (saffron, marscapone, nutmeg, one egg, grated parm, white pepper.) We had the good fortune to follow up the entree with macaroons and finestkind grappa. Good sleep.
10. peking duck. Got turned around in residential Bejing. Followed the international sign for Peking Duck. Ate Peking duck. i love Peking duck. Game over.
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