A baby in Cambodia

I've spent about as much time backpacking through Asia and Africa as I have been pregnant and, to be honest, there isn't all that much difference between the two.  Pregnancy is like backpacking through Southeast Asia because:

• in the beginning, you're disoriented, exhausted, and disbelieving (Did I really just cross over two continents in 17 hours?  Is there really a tiny human being growing inside me?)

• you could wake up on any given morning and vomit

• after a little while, things even out and you start to feel great and love this place

• it's January and the ceiling fan is running on high

• fantasies tend to involve wine, really good soft cheeses, and Kosher dill pickles

• personal boundaries disappear as strangers ask about every element of your life (What is your job?  How much do you make?  Did you plan this pregnancy?  What are your labor and delivery plans?)

• soon, you're carrying an extra 25 to 30 pounds of luggage, making you wobble like an ungainly penguin

. . . keep reading pregnancy is like backpacking through southeast asia after the jump

The savor of the last two years lingers on our lips.  We have eaten countless meals at street stalls, restaurants, cafes, cooking classes, and homes in 19 countries but no meal has been the same as any other.  This post collects the most memorable tastes of our travels and we hope that you enjoy this (mostly) salivating journey through the world, as seen by our cameras and remembered by our stomachs.

The effervescence coating our tongues and minds from our first champagne and beer toast to our round-the-world trip.  Sydney Opera House, Sydney, Australia.

Impossibly light, flaky, and sweet roti canai with vanilla ice cream that we tracked down on three different nights, claiming that we had "photography issues" and needed to take better pictures.  Mamak, Sydney, Australia.

The weeks spent in small towns in Australia where we ate EVERY SINGLE meal with french fries (even my lasagna came with fries), and our relief at finally finding fresh fruit.  Port Douglas farmers' market, Port Douglas, Australia.

The explosion of strawberry and flowers in the dry 2009 Rose of Virginia wine, which continues to be the best rose we have ever tasted.  Charles Melton vineyards, Barossa Valley, Australia.

The creamy, oniony, and healthy mujadara we made with our own hands while camping through New Zealand, a much needed respite after a month eating restaurant food.  Our kitchen.

The fact that we were too exhausted from flipping over our kayak in the frigid Milford Sound to photograph the best meal we had in New Zealand, including a beetroot cream cheese, a basil pesto, and a white bean hummus served with wheat bread on a rustic plank, roasted and stuffed red peppers, and venison with roasted portobello mushrooms.  Redcliff Inn, Te Anau, New Zealand.

The sinful smoothness from eating a blue cheese souffle under a deep blue New Zealand sky with fields of vineyards at our feet.  Wairau River vineyard, Marlborough region, New Zealand.

The wormy appearance and texture of the delicate whitebait, which tasted somewhere between crab and a white fish, and is much sought after in New Zealand.  Cafe de Paris, Hokitika, New Zealand.

Learning how to make sweet kozhakattai (coconut dumplings) from my grandmother, the woman in whose kitchen I first learned to appreciate food.  Patti's house, Chennai, India.

Sharing a meal of vegetarian fare, bananas, and bamboo with our elephant friends --- and, yes, they ate way more than we did.  Patara Elephant Farm, Chiang Mai, Thailand.  

Realizing that the rice paper wrappers we use to make simple spring rolls take months of toil in rice fields and hours of back-breaking labor over a fast-spinning stove in Southeast Asia.  Rice fields, Sukhothai, Thailand; rice paper wrapper visit, Battambang, Thailand; spring rolls made in our kitchen.

The joy of purposeful charity as we watched Cambodian street children make and serve us amok, a stew of coconut, fish, and curry, as training for future jobs in the hospitality industry.  Romdeng and Friends, restaurants run by Mith Samlanh, Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

Introducing our traveling friends to the best vegetarian restaurant we have ever tried; their mushroom and eggplant dips were akin to the nectar of gods.  Chamkar, Siem Reap, Cambodia. (sorry, no picture here)

Awakening to the power and beauty of tofu, boiled and served with soy sauce, served as cold yuba (tofu skin), grilled with miso paste, flecked with vegetables, or any of the other innumerable ways it may be served.  All over Kyoto, Japan.

Discovering that though okonomiyaki --- a light pancake filled with cabbage, cheese, meat, barbeque sauce, and mayonnaise --- may sound disgusting, it is actually one of the most delicious food finds in this world.  Okonomiyaki joints, Hiroshima, Japan.

 

Eating the best sushi ever in a bar with laminated countertops and stools that could fit no more than 20 people at any given time, right outside the Tokyo Fish Market.  Tokyo Fish Market, Tokyo, Japan.

Indulging in a kaiseki dinner, the ultimate Japanese meal, at a traditional ryokan after spending the day relaxing in mineral baths.  Kamesei Ryokan, Chikuma City, Japan.

 Adjusting to the sweet and squishy world of Japanese desserts.  All over Japan.

Ordering four items that appeared to be vegetarian in order to find one Korean vegetarian dish because vegetarianism simply does not exist in South Korea.  Busan and Seoul, South Korean.

Our ninth anniversary meal: an amazingly delicious Pizza Hut pizza, with a crust ringed by cheese and sweet potato puree, found in a South Korean subway station after five exhausting hours spent on a bus.  Seoul, South Korea.

. . . keep reading the taste of two years after the jump

What we did: 29 days in China split up as follows: 8 days in Beijing, 2 days in Datong, 3 days in Hohhot; 3 more days in Beijing hanging out with friends; 4 days in Xi'an; 5 days in Shanghai; 4 days in Huang Shan; and, then, 3 final days in Hong Kong.

Would we do it the same way?  Yes.  And, we liked the amount of time in each city because spending more time in fewer places makes sense in China because of the long distances and travel times.

Our advice to future Chinese tourists:  We recommend planning all transportation and hotels before you arrive in China, rather than trying to book hotels while in China, especially if you are traveling in the summer.  At times, it can seem like all 1.3 billion people are vacationing at the same time, leading to a dearth of train tickets and hotel accomodations.  In addition, Internet access is often poor in China so it is significantly easier to book hotels using ELong and train tickets using  Travel China Guide when you are outside of the country.

Best food:  For Akila, jiaozi in Beijing.  For Patrick, barbequed lamb in inner Mongolia. 

Runner-up for best food: For Patrick, Peking duck.  For Akila, mock Peking duck at Behai restaurant in Beijing. 

Worst food:  Mock tuna sashimi but ONLY because it actually tastes like real very low-grade tuna sashimi.

Our favorite part of China:  The unexpectedness.  Everything we thought we knew, we didn't know; everything we hated, we were surprised that it happened to us; everything we loved, we couldn't believe it existed.

The worst part of China:  Communication barrier + masses of people = the most difficult country we have ever traveled in and our worst day of travel ever.

Forbidden City lion

Indispensable item/gear:  Deodorant.  There are 1.3 billion people in the country and toiletries are expensive.  Bring an extra.  You'll need it.

Second indispensable item/gear:  The Lonely Planet Mandarin Phrasebook.  (Do not buy the useless Immersion Guides Mandarin Phrasebook.)

The best deal: We purchased last minute first-class tickets from Tunxi to Hong Kong because they were the last seats left on the plane.  The flight was delayed by four hours and we were so happy that we were able to luxuriate and sleep in the comfy couches in the first class lounge.

The biggest rip off:  Less of a rip off and more of price gouging, expect to pay over-the-top prices for lodging, food, and pretty much everything else on top of the mountain in Huang Shan.  Granted, every single thing brought to the top of the mountain is carried up by hand, but the prices are well outside the range of the average backpacker budget in China.

. . . keep reading china: the low-down after the jump

Pumpkin with sour cherries and coconut

When Patrick was a kid, his family used to eat at Chinese buffets every few weeks, feasting on sweet and sour chicken and cashew pork; my family, on the other hand, never ate Chinese food because my parents and brother hated the greasy brown sauce that coated the vegetables.  So, Patrick and I weren't sure what to expect when we landed in China. 

Spices and seasonings at Chinese market

We quickly realized a singular truth: you haven't eaten Chinese food until you have eaten Chinese food in China. 

Chinese radish sliced

In a way, defining "Chinese food" is kind of like defining "European food"; just as Italian food is starkly dissimilar from German food, Sichuan is a far step from Beijing cuisine.  The simplest distinction is between the primarily wheat-driven diet in the North and the rice-focused diet of the South.  Ancient culinary scholars (and, yes, apparently there were culinary scholars in China) identified Eight Great Culinary Traditions, depending on the regional area.  We tried many varieties of Chinese food and loved them all.  We never went hungry in China.

Shandong (Lu) Cuisine/Beijing Cuisine

Cucumber vinegar salad

Shandong cuisine is most commonly found throughout the North and includes Beijing/Mandarin cuisine and Shanxi cuisine.  Typically, dishes utilize vinegar and peanuts, and vegetables are often mixed with vinegar and garlic to make a salad.

Jiaozi from the best dumpling shop ever (and I can't remember the name - ack!)

I think I've spent enough time in the last couple of weeks talking about dumplings so, let it be mentioned one final time that Beijing is the place to find the fantastically addictive jiaozi and other flour-based buns and doughy goods.

The most famous Beijing dish is, of course, Peking duck.  The ducks are specially raised and fattened for 65 days, then slaughtered, then air is pumped into the skin to separate the skin from the meat, and then after being coated with a syrup, it is roasted in a high heat oven for about an hour.  Peking duck is traditionally served with thin flour pancakes and hoisin sauce.

And, on nearly every street corner in Beijing, you will find people selling drinkable yogurt in ceramic containers, egg pancakes, chicken skewers, watermelon juice, or strawberry and mango ices. 

. . . keep reading chinese cuisine at The Road Forks