Italy - Have I mentioned the cheese?

As a continent, Europe has a lot going for it. Beautiful countryside that inspired many a depressed painter to reproduce said countrysides with absolutely no regard for perspective, wines that benefit from a thousand years of human ingenuity in getting a classy buzz on, and cheeses that are worth fighting wars over (which I understand happened pretty regularly). Italy rolled the dice and did pretty well on all fronts. We had a lovely time in Rome - visiting the Colleseum and its environs, gawking at the Vatican museum, St. Peter's Basilica, and the chapel ceiling, and taking a day trip to the Tuscan countryside. But here's what stood out..

The coffee.
Italy has the best coffee. In the world. I haven't seen every bit of the world, much less had coffee everywhere, but enough to know that Italy is probably as good as it's going to get. And none of the 10 minute waits in self-indulgent Seattle coffee shops that make a process out of every over-complicated coffee order. Coffee in Italy takes 45 seconds to appear, is usually offered in only the most worthwhile of variations, and costs a euro or so. And is almost always near perfect. Damn these guys get it right.

The cheese.
As of this writing there is still some cheese left in Italy that I didn't consume while I was there. Not out of shame or anything. Just didn't get to it. Anyway, cheese in Italy was a revelation. The juiciness of plan mozzarella. The tang of parmesan or pecorino. Just right. Brought back a 3 lb pecorino cheese wheel. The opening and consumption of which should be a much celebrated Seattle event. Mmmm.

The cacio e pepe (also featuring the cheese).
Had cacio e pepe for the first time our first night at a place called Monti Caruso. What a concept. Must do this at home. So simple.

The history.
You can't swing a dead cat without hitting something that's 500 years old around here in Rome. Not that you'd want to. Cats are pretty cute critters in general. Point is, there's a lot of really well-catalogued history that just makes you wonder.

The countryside
Probably the best day in Italy was when we got on a City Wonders (pretty good tour company) bus and headed to Montepulciano and Pienza in Toscana. It was like driving through a painting. Again, and again. Stunning countryside.

By the end of it thought, we'd had enough bread and pasta. They were lovely, but there's only so far you can go without healthy doses of vegetables, fruit, and some good old protein, you know? 

Irasshaimase!

We left the heat and chaos of dear Bharat to land in the orderly, quiet environs of Narita in Japan. Flying in, you can tell it's Japan you're landing in - green, clean, and with cute, dense trees that remind you of bonsai gardens. Pretty immediately you see signs of a society that has sensible rules, which it actually follows. Loved the 'no carts beyond this line' marker by the baggage carousels.

We spent some time reconfiguring luggage, storing bags, and otherwise orienting ourselves for our Japanese adventure. A $35 ticket gets you a 2-hr ride on a 'limousine' bus to the Sheraton Miyako, which was on the southern side of Tokyo city. Note to self - Narita is nowhere near Tokyo. Try Haneda next time.

The Sheraton Miyako is a fantastic property to stay at. Great-looking rooms with Western layouts and thoughtful Japanese touches; helpful hotel staff; and excellent happy hour and breakfast service. Thanks to Miss Cara's standing with the fine people at Starwood we were able to drop in to the lobby lounge for some Japanese draft beer on tap, in a very lovely setting. They used an earthen, glazed glass for beer which was so cool. And the propensity for doing things in an orderly fashion extends to the way they laid out toiletries in the bathroom. Just so civilized. 

The taxis in Tokyo are fantastic, by the way. They're most old Corollas (think early 1990s), but shiny and unblemished - driven by polite, well dressed cabbies. Not uncommon to see the occasional white glove either. For dinner that night, despite our overly tired state, we ventured out to the Shibuya district. We bumbled our way into a izakaya of sorts, and mimed our way into ordering a couple of Okinawa staples - bitter gourd noodles and some Orion beer. 

Good Morning Vietnaaaaam!

International Travel Lesson #23: If you're choosing the take the $3 shared ride 'shuttle' from the airport instead of the $15 taxi, at least try to get on a bus that's almost full - or you'll have to wait for what - an hour before they leave? Yeah. Don't do what we did.

Vietnam is cheap indeed. In Hanoi, $22 a night got us the largest, and possibly nicest hotel room we've had on this trip (granted, we haven't exactly been living it up accommodations-wise either). Jacuzzi tub, excellent anything-you-want breakfast, fresh fruit juices aplenty, and located close to the Old Quarter, just East of the Hoan Kiem Lake. Best of all, the hotel's called Splendid Star 2. Not Splendid Star The Second - the second in a long line of royal hotels, but second as in, #2 of 4 different but related Splendid Star hotels in a single small lane in the backpacker area of Hanoi. Don't let the name fool you, Martin the manager will see to it that you have a great time staying there.

I'd heard a lot about the games of leapfrog tourists have to play with the motorcycles and scooters in Vietnam, and while I'm sure Ho Chi Minh City is worse, Hanoi was pretty.. exciting itself. Walking along the path beside the Hoan Kiem lake at night it seemed as is the 6.5 million Hanioi-ans had about twice as many motorized, meep-meeping two wheelers amongst them. I still maintain that traffic in Bombay is easily worse, but it is true that cars are easier to dodge than multiple motorbikes coming at you like disorganized, buzzing hornets. I enjoyed it. It's like a real life video game - every boy's dream.

It became very clear rather quickly that the Vietnamese like to eat out. Out on the street. The footpath to be more accurate. Seated on tiny little blue or red footstools. Barely a foot off the ground. Huddled together. Hundreds of them. At night. It's quite a sight. They have these little mom-and-pop stoves going in the name of a restaurant, and people sitting in this fashion in the 30+ degree heat of the night. Street food in India isn't exactly a posh or hygienic scene (which, arguably is what makes things taste so good), but I wouldn't want to sit right down in the middle of that pavement would I.

First night's dinner was at an Anthony Bourdain-recommended local place called Xoi Yen. Three floors of frenetic eating, while seated a foot of the ground, in 35 degree heat, at night. A foot from our little steel table was a dog - snoozing blissfully amongst waiters and babies gaggling alike. The food was excellent of course. Tony knows his stuff. The specialty is 'xoi' or glutinous rice, the xoi xeo - or glutinous rice with soft yellow mung bean cake was delicious. Boiled chicken and deep friend onion/garlic on top add the perfect crunch. Damn, I'd like some right now.

One of the best meals on this entire trip was courtesy Quon An Ngon As soon as you enter, the sight of the yellow canopy, the enclosed trees, and the cool mist from the fans makes you forget the heat and chaos of the street you just walked off of. The server girls are very friendly, and unafraid to make recommendations (thank the lord). Fresh guava juice, green papaya salad, fresh vegetable rolls, and an order of the Vietnamese white fish cha ca basically made my day. On of the waiters cooked up the fresh fish with greens right at our table. I realize how sycophantic I sound about this place so I'll just stop. If you're in the neighbourhood, go there. It's solid.

Of monks and men

Growing up in a city like Bombay your awareness of smaller, more distant regions and cultures isn't exactly acute. I was aware there was a place called Sikkim, and a kingdom called Bhutan, and I'd been to Nepal - but I had little understanding of those people's cultures - their similarities to and differences from what I considered 'Indian.' So obviously, this trip was much needed. History textbooks in school made me aware that there was this princely chap called Siddharth, and then there was big thing called Buddhism, and that while it was born in India, it wasn't really en vogue anymore.

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To the promised land shall go I

Food served on an American airline must surely be the absolute worst form that food preparation by the human race has ever taken. Being on a rather old 747 with no in-flight TV doesn't make said food go down any easier either. (Shhh, Delta, you listening, you big lugs?) But thanks to some very high quality company, the journey wasn't anywhere near as bad as it could have been.

Louise and Do at an eat place in JFK

Fast forward several hours and I'm at Ben Gurion international airport outside Tel Aviv. And it is a damn good looking airport. Wouldn't mind being stuck here for a bit. Of course, I got singled out by some security-type dude and asked five questions on what the hell I was doing in Israel. But several overly sincere answers from me later, the guy clearly lost interest and let me go on my way. Customs/immigration was a breeze, and suddenly there I was - free to walk into Tel Aviv. (Suckers :) )

Our hotel was in the quaint Yemenite area of Tel Aviv - an absolute maze of very narrow cobbled streets that look pretty much the same. Hats off to our spiritual tour guides Shany & Rafi for putting together a great list of Tel Aviv restaurants, for the very first place on that list that we hit was phenomenal.

If you go to Israel and want to take even the slightest break from hummus, you must go to Nanuchka, a Georgian restaurant on Lillenblum, just a block off of the south end of Rothschild. Georgian food, where have you been all my life!? The starter plate with eggplant (in various forms), bean salad, mango salad, grape leaves and other good stuff is kind of to die for. And so is the lamb with fresh taragon. And the blackened chicken with pomegranate that Louise seems to be disinterested in - also very good. Oh and some great Georgian wine. Sweet, but with a nice, thick edge that will please even the most sweet-averse pallete.

And so, tired, but highly content with the meal and our first evening in Tel Aviv, we returned to our tiny little pseudo-hotel, and rested our bones.

San Francisco

ARRIVAR
Friday night in San Francisco saw me sneak into Dropbox HQ to steal all their secrets. Well actually, all I did was join in their happy hour and drink all their cocktails - but I think that's an upgrade.

And of course, what does a body do when their back in San Francisco? If they have any lust for food and character, they head to the Mission. Grue's stellar recommendation saw Himani, Grue and I pig out at Pakwan on 16th in the Mission. No-frills Pakistani joint where you order at the counter, pay in cash, BYOB, and go crazy when the food arrives. Pictured above are tangdi chicken, seekh kababs, fish kabab and daal palak (you know, to assuage our consciences). A most memorable meal that makes the parking hassles in the Mission totally worth it.

Now if you're in the mood for Thai food, I say.. go to Thailand! But if you've got a life that you can't just skip out on, fine, you can safely make do with Marnee Thai on 9th in Inner Sunset. Another stellar recommendation from my man Tones (he's getting awfully good at this restaurant business - wonder if he gets a cut). The photo frames and news articles on the wall proudly proclaim "best of blah blah" and "top Thai chef of yada yada" and I think: "Yeah okay, we'll see."

And see we definitely did. We got the coconut dumplings (look almost identical to appams in Kerala!) and the talay you see in the pictures. The dumplings were sizzling hot, super soft, and tasted mildly sweet. The talay was spicy, and earned my respect on account of the long, whole stalks of green pepper I saw used so often in Thailand. I haven't eaten at a single other Thai place in the US that uses these.

A word about San Francisco: Man this is a cool city. Golden Gate Park is huge - and on a sunny day, just perfect. And if you can get two people called Janette Fong and Neville 'Su Yong' Bowers to join - that's a perfect Saturday afternoon stroll.

A word to all you board game geeks out there - and there are a lot of us. Dominion is a great game. Be warned - there is no board. Just cards. But it's so much fun. Nice way to settle in after an aggressively spicy Mapo Tofu meal from Mission Chinese.

WINE & DINE

California farmers' markets are basically on the cutting edge of farmers market-ing anywhere. Fresh oysters and ceviche for breakfast? Apparently.

Starting our morning with the Mountain View Farmers' Market was a great idea. This is a place where even the baggies of salad mix come with pretty (and edible) flowers.

With Louise and Team Korea (Shane + Parents of Shane) leading the way, our winery tour in Morgan Hills kicked off with Guglielmo. Most of us picked up their ruby port. Delicious. After a pretty good Thai lunch, we hit up the Clos LaChance winery. The venue makes you feel like you're in Tuscany. [Having never been to Tuscany myself, I am relying on the word of my travel companions. But I can see where they're coming from. The place is very pretty] But the wine was meh. Feel free to avoid.

The highlight of the evening was home-cooked hot pot dinner. Here's Louise modeling the fresh tilapia we picked up. We also picked up what looked like enough hot pot rations to feed a medium sized Chinese infantry unit, but ran through almost all of it through dinner.


Day II of wine tasting saw us swap a Nisha for a Divya, and trade up from Morgan Hills to Napa. We started with a very personal wine tour at Delectus, one of Shane and Louise's favourites. Had never tasted wine right out the barrel before. It's rough. But educational. [Kind of like Karnani's core strategy class, I realise with some amusement]

Shane's darling parents took us to lunch at the venerable Bouchon. French food in a casual bistro setting. Between the enormous crab, lobster and mussel platter, the delicious bread and an enormous shank of lamb - I was pretty much done for at the end of the meal. Locomotion was an effort, and I think we all needed a nap. But there was more wine to be tasted, so on we went.

V. Sattui is a cool place, especially the subterranean cellar/bar where we did our tasting. The standouts for me were the dry Reisling and the Gamay Rouge (a rouge with a surprisingly big body). But the king of meads at this place was definitely the Madiera. At $45 a pop it taxed our poor grad student wallets. But I have a feeling it's going to be worth it. [As I write this at 35,000 feet, I really hope that bottle's doing alright in the belly of this plane]

AND THE REST
It's about that time in a travel blog when the writer (and I use that word generously) kind begins to lose patience. And I'm sure you've had enough too. So for the sake of my memory, and your sanity, here's a quick rundown:

- If you're in Milbrae, eat dim sum at Hong Kong Flower Lounge. They have shau lung bao. And it's pretty good. They also blanch the brocolli in front of you, which is cool. Oh, and their rice porridge (chok) is extremely well-made. I was all Oliver-Twist-can-I-have-some-more with my bowl after I'd had my first serving.

- If you're in the Mission (and let's face it, if you have taste, you will be), try Limon. Ceviche, fried chicken, vegetarian empanada (tastier than Argentinian humitas, btw!) are all great. Great drinks too.

Day 9: Exodus

I couldn't tell whether the palour hanging over our heads that morning was from last night's doings, or from the thought of most of the gang leaving for Ann Arbor that afternoon. Huynh and I shopped for breakfast, and by noon we had all trekkers fed, packed and ready to head out into the city for one last hoorah. Most of the crew had last minute shopping to do, but not Jonghwan.

I remember him sitting across the breakfast table in his yellow rain jacket with a particularly determined look on his face, and then saying the words "I want to go to the ocean," before heading out. A part of me was a little worried about what he meant and what he was going to go do. He would have to eventually make do with a glimpse of the Rio de la Plata - BA was still relatively inland from the Indian Ocean.

Amrita, Hunyh, (memory fails me) and I made it out to Teatro Colon only to find the gods of English-language-tour-timing had forsaken us for the day. Huynh did make a valiant (if unknowing) attempt to break into theplace without paying for ticket, but didn't make it very far.

The find of the day was a little bakery outlet in the shopping streets close to Florida, where we were literally handing a steel dish to pick out any 15 pastries for 10 pesos. 15 for 10. What.. is wrong with these people?? So naturally we made out like a bunch of gluttonous bandits before we went on our way, snacking as we window shopped. Among the stuff we bought were a cellphone charger, scarves, alfajores, and sundry gifts for some lucky people back in the US.

Later that afternoon Amrita, Sawna, Hunyh and I bid almost tearful goodbyes to our 12 trekkers as their bus pulled away. That was okay though - another week and we'd be back in Ann Arbor with the lot of them.

Us 'parents' enjoyed a relatively peaceful dinner that night in the Las Canitas neighborhood at a place called Morelia, which specialized in pizza parilla style. Not bad at all. Great empanadas too. A fine bit of excitement occurred when Sawna discovered a fake 100 peso bill in her possession. The restaurant wouldn't take it of course. Smart little buggers.

Day 8: City by day, Tango by night

Scrambling to get to a 9 am tour bus pick up after a 3 am night at a nightclub (Rumi, not bad) is always going to be difficult. Somehow we all made it. And so it was that a lazy bus ride and light sightseeing got underway. Casa Rosada and La Boca featured heavily on the tour, and we finished up at San Telmo market. And that was just the way most of us wanted to spend the afternoon - traipsing around a crowded Buenos Aires market, picking up gifts, drinking mate and eating cajetas.

With a group this big and enthusiastic, everything's a production. And given our own room at this mate house - we kinda went to town. Hundreds of mate glamour shots later, we cabbed it back home to our apartments.

The highlight of the weekend of course, was Tango night. I don't have group pictures on hand, but trust me, we all looked very spiffy decked up to tango. And in the capable (if forceful - in a good way) hands of our instructor Julietta, it was only a matter of minutes before we were like.. totally redefining the way that Tango should (never) be danced.

This took place at a lesson-dinner-show tango place. And so after the lesson we were treated to a very solid dinner and a fun stage show. Of course, this being our last night in Argentina as a big group, there was much toasting and speechifying. Remember that this was at a tango show, so all that merrymaking didn't go down too well with the patrons at other tables. I'll have you know it was Amrita's table (NOT mine) that came close to being thrown out on account of disturbin' the peace.

It was indeed tragic that Jonathan had to miss the show. Not that he couldn't make it. He totally did. He was at the same table as I was. He just wasn't... all there. You know?

After the show wrapped up we insisted on continuing as if we owned the place - and so eventually the owners pretty much had to usher us out. (It was getting to be just that kind of night)

The afterparty at home was just a sordid affair that needn't be described here. Suffice it to say there was rowdiness and assault with deadly shaving cream thrown into the mix. If you don't understand what that means - you should feel fortunate.

Day 7: Of Peruvians and Quilmes

[You'll notice with great relief that my blog entries are much skimpier here on. I seem to have run out of steam. This is not necessarily a bad thing.]

Standing in line for an hour to check in at Mendoza airport may have its drawbacks, but it gives you a chance to see your fellow travelers in action. We will forever remember how the typically quite and very polite Jongwhan brusquely debarred line-cutters from well.. line cutting by drawing the tape across their path. That gave us about 10 minutes of amusement.

Back in 'civilization' in Pallermo our thoughts turned to shopping, so we cabbed it to Plaza Serrano for some 10 peso hot dogs, scarves, wallets, coffee and sundry other things. Some of us made it to Florida St. to buy more blue-and-white Argentina-themed stuff. I will forever remember being stunned by the sight of a full-on espresso machine and barista setup at the McDonald's on Florida - making excellent coffee. Why don't we have that elsewhere in the world?

The high point of the day (and for some, perhaps of the trip), was the amazing evening we spent with Willie and his family in La Boca. Dinner with Peruvians is someone everyone should do at some point in life. Our evening featured Willie's puppy, his grandma, his darling wife (a week away from having a baby!), his cousins, friends, a parilla grill with kilos upon kilos of meat, lots of Quilmes, and some very spirited dancing. And of course, like any civilized cultured, Willie and the boys drank out of one cup, passing the bottle around.

A night to remember. Of course, making it out of La Boca alive for the second time was also something to be celebrated.

Day 6: Wining and dining in the Andes

When you wake to a crisp, sun-bathed winter morning in the foothills of the Andes, you're in a good mood as it is. And if you've happened to have the first full night's sleep in nearly a week, you can't be blamed for being extra chirpy. Especially if you walk downstairs to the dining room and find yoghurt, pastries, coffee and toast waiting for you.

Eugenia herded us onto the bus and we were off to our first winery in Lujan de Cuyo, just outside Mendoza. And it didn't take us long to be greeted by the Andes, rising high in the distance, snow capped all the way to their top. The previous day had just been bad weather - the mountains had been there all along.

Our first winery was Alta Vista, a small-to-medium scale setup owned by a French family, who of course, kept their private stash locked away (in plain sight) in the winery cellars below. The guide said something about them flying into Mendoza a few times a year to pick up bottles. Damn. Nice life. I also want.

It was here that most of us were introduced for the first time to the Torrontes varietal. It makes for a dry white wine with sharp, almost tangy flavour, and a lot of complex things going on in the background. But it was dry. And sweet tooth that I am, it gets no love from me. Only respect. There was also olive oil for the tasting - wineries in Mendoza seem to nurture olive trees quite easily, it seems. I don't understand how olive oil could feel both light, and creamy at the same time - but it did. Well done, and stuff!

Our next stop was Lagarde, a more well-known medium sized winery that clearly knew what it was doing. I'll have you know that along with a nice buzz (Wolverines are lushes, we just are), we were also developing an appreciation for how complex, and artful the wine-making process can be. Synthetic vs. natural cork, oak vs. steel barrels, concrete vs. stainless steel tanks, the angle at which bottles are rested as the wine sediments - there's a seemingly unending depth to which you can take the art. Pretty cool.

The lunch that followed is an an experience that is forever etched into all our memories. We walk into the compound of what looks like somebody's home estate turned into little mini-restaurant dining rooms, and are greeted with a feast that is quite literally befitting of kings (or that French family that flies in just to pick up their private wine, I'm sure). There were probably eight types of cured meat, a dozen side dishes of vegetables, purees and sauces, cheeses, stew, dessert, and of course, wine. If we all felt sluggish on the last winery visit that followed, you know why.

I do believe Eugenia had saved the best for last. Carmello Patti, pictured smiling next to Bryant here, is an expert wine maker who quit the large scale wine business, and started out his own small operation in a single shed. For Carmello, it's very, very personal. And we were taken on an intimate tour of his small but capable setup. We signed his guest book - so if any of you reading this happen to visit him years from now, say hello, and try to find a big "GO BLUE" in his books.

Dinner that night was at La Lucia, a restaurant on the same drag as El Pelanquet that some of us scoped out. And it was a good choice. Almost as memorable as the rump steak I had, was the restaurant's peculiar taste in restroom art. The men's room had a drawing of a.. little person, striking a strange pose, with.. no clothes on. While that may sound only odd, and not scary, trust me on this - it was. And by the end of the night, the entire crew, girls included had taken a look. Thank you La Lucia, for a great meal, and some memorable amusement!