Getting Good Stuff When You Don’t Speak the Language

Getting Good Stuff When You Don’t Speak the Language

Most street food, to me, is more interesting than most restaurant food.

This maxim was never more true than in Bangkok, a city with more incredible street food than any other place I’d ever visited. Wandering aimlessly through the city, one could be certain of encountering dozens upon dozens of small stands serving fine stuff at very competitive prices.

About 15 minutes after reaching our hotel in downtown Bangkok, The Wife went down for a nap – and I dashed onto Rama I Road in search of excellent street eating.

Prior to setting out on my scarfing safari, I asked the nice lady at the hotel desk to write down four statements in Thai; here in English is what I asked her to translate into her native language:

• “Hello, how much is your delicious food?”
• “Good. I’ll have one, please.”
• “Please feel free to make it the way you usually would. Spicy hot is just fine.”
• “Thank you.”



Armed with my little sheets of paper, I went out in search of food and enjoyed spectacular chow. Probably the most excellent dish I had on this initial foray into the streets of Bangkok was papaya salad.

I usually avoid raw fruit and vegetables in street food, but the papaya salad, som tam, is an iconic Thai dish (though it’s also found in Laos and Vietnam). I could not resist its charms.

Of course, I’d had papaya salad at a number of places (Spoon Thai, Yum Thai, etc.), but what made this salad so memorable was that all the flavors came together so perfectly.

The reason for this perfect marriage of flavors? Vigorously pounding the ingredients until they submit their goodness to one another and create a more perfect union.

The lady on the street (who like many Southeast Asian woman seem to giggle uncontrollably when dealing with me) read my little messages, then took into whacking the hell out of the ingredients. She held up two little chile peppers as though to ask, “You sure you want these?” I gave her a big smile and a thumbs up as though to respond, “Hell’s yeah!”

Into the mortar and pestle she put green papaya threads, and other ingredients including chile peppers, small limes (so delicate they could be eaten whole), tomatoes, green beans, bean sprouts, some herbs and salt. She proceeded to flog these foods until they bled juice, until the essence of each ran together into an aromatic, crunchy and tastefully cohesive mess.





One thing I learned (again) about street food: you should eat it on the street.

I had to stop and change money and get some beer before bringing my salad back to the room. In that relatively short amount of time, the juices leeched out of salad to an alarming degree…but it was still fantastic (and it’s possible the flavors concentrated just a little by losing some juice).



For future street food forays into foreign lands, I’d recommend 1) at least one sheet of paper with your message on it in the native language (could be as simple as “Your food looks great! I’d like some, please.”), 2) waterless soap (good for cleaning up before and after eating street food), 3) paper towels (other countries are not so profligate in their distribution of paper products as we are), and 4) a camera (because in the flurry of street grunting, you’re probably going to forget a lot about what you ate -- but you knew that).

Good ideas. One thing I learned is never try to order a blt in Katmandu. My cornflakes in India came with boiling hot milk (for sanitation purposes). After these two events I decided not to try to eat western food but eat what the natives do or some variation of it. I could not get on board with the meat at the markets....too unsanitary and too many flies.

What I do like about the pictures is a reminder that good things to eat can be made with basic cooking equipment and fresh ingredients. No fancy cooking implements or kitchen, no all clad pots or williams sonoma stuff is necessary if you know how to cook!!!!

I do something like this too. I'll ask the hotel desk folks to tell me about their favorite street foods and then write down the ones that sound good (along with the phrase "where can I find..."(which in Thai is something like "oo'-tee-nai"

thaiobsessed wrote:I do something like this too. I'll ask the hotel desk folks to tell me about their favorite street foods and then write down the ones that sound good (along with the phrase "where can I find..."(which in Thai is something like "oo'-tee-nai"

See, this is how so many conversations begin and end for me in foreign countries. I start with "Donde esta...," "Dov'e..." or "Ou e..." and then once the answer starts, the conversation is pretty much over.

Reminds me in Riyadh, I went to store to get food, I said I want "that" with some hesitation from the food clerk, I bought it, as I was walking out with my first bite, and choking because it was so spicy, I could hear the guys in the store laughing at me.

My father always had one of his Chinese friends write out notes for him when we went into the various Chinatowns in the US.
One of them we found out later translated to (in polite language) "This man is my friend. Please don;t feed him the offal you pass off to tourists".

Speaking of Thai - I have two Thai sister-in-laws. When they cook "spicy" I cannot be in the house due to my eyes watering. However they do make the best curry.

toria wrote:Good ideas. One thing I learned is never try to order a blt in Katmandu. My cornflakes in India came with boiling hot milk (for sanitation purposes).

Maybe they thought this is how you would like them. While Americans eat their breakfast cereal with cold milk, most Europeans expect hot milk.

While we are shocked at the thought of hot milk, Europeans are equally shocked by the cold. I have gotten lectures on how this is not healthy. Watching me eat cereal with cold milk is very upsetting on those who believe in hot. I have had to endure some unpleasant faces.

I realize your experience was in India, when the sun didn't set on the British Empire their hospitality was likely quite European oriented.

Regards,

Cathy2 wrote:

toria wrote:Good ideas. One thing I learned is never try to order a blt in Katmandu. My cornflakes in India came with boiling hot milk (for sanitation purposes).

Maybe they thought this is how you would like them. While Americans eat their breakfast cereal with cold milk, most Europeans expect hot milk.

While we are shocked at the thought of hot milk, Europeans are equally shocked by the cold. I have gotten lectures on how this is not healthy. Watching me eat cereal with cold milk is very upsetting on those who believe in hot. I have had to endure some unpleasant faces.

I realize your experience was in India, when the sun didn't set on the British Empire their hospitality was likely quite European oriented.

Regards,

Interesting and I think quite right, C2. Curiously, on my stay in Moscow exactly ten years ago now, the breakfast brought to my room every morning included a European element (meat, veggies) and an American element (cold boxed cereal and cold milk). Everything was always fresh and quite good. I only was sorry that I didn't get out more for breakfast. The buffet in Peter, however, was enormous and usually good for some chuckles (the routine platter of "frogs paws"...) and had the same general aim of trying to cater to all.

When I was staying with a host family in Spain, I was given cornflakes and hot milk every morning. Never could get used to it. I'll eat all manner of strange things, but hot milk in my cereal? Awful.

Suzy Creamcheese wrote:When I was staying with a host family in Spain, I was given cornflakes and hot milk every morning. Never could get used to it. I'll eat all manner of strange things, but hot milk in my cereal? Awful.

Agreed. Especially when my breakfast cereal strategy is to eat ahead of the flakes getting limp. Pour on hot milk and it all goes limp. I shudder at the thought.

Regards.

Wow I did not know that. I thought it was a quirk of my ever vigilant father in law making sure I did not get sick. What I did not enjoy either was the servant who was stationed behind me with a fly swatter to swat the flies away as I ate. I know they were trying to accommodate me but I would have rather shooed my own flies. Sorry for kinda highjacking this thread but I do learn so much on this forum sometimes years later!

Wow, I'm amazed about the hot milk aversions, folks! My dad cooked hot cereal every morning of my young life--oatmeal, cream o' wheat, Roman Meal, Ralston, you name it--and there was no way I was going to put *cold* milk on my hot cereal.

Duh, what's the diff? Corn flakes or oatmeal? Maybe I'm missing something conceptually here.

Best way I've ever found to get what I want when I don't know the language is to scope out what the most popular dish the locals are eating, then point at one of their tables and ask for one of those. Worked in an Italian pasta joint in Brooklyn, worked in a resto in Wuhan. Should work just about anywhere. The locals know what's good, they really do!

Geo

Geo wrote:Duh, what's the diff? Corn flakes or oatmeal? Maybe I'm missing something conceptually here.

Hot cereal is always hot. Introducing hot milk to a cold cereal is not pleasant, especially for some who like crispness.

Pointing to what look's good on someone elses plate is always works like a charm.

I remember when there was a lot of chatter about the Mexican food vans on Milwaukee Avenue near Cafe Marianao and in Humboldt Park. The food offered was pretty cheap, someone went asking for "one of everything" or "uno de todo" to find themselves with a large quantity of food for less than $20.

Regards,

Hi C2--

I guess maybe I'm less traditional than others might be. I've never tried hot milk (or cream, ummm!) on, say, corn flakes or Cheerios, but I find the thought enticing. I mean, hey!, it might taste good. But I suppose if you're not expecting it, it could come on as very weird.

We're off to Firenze in a couple of hours--I'll be sure to watch what my neighbors are eating in the restos! That way, if something looks really good, I'll just point and say "prego!" --which is about the only Italian word I know!!

Geo

Hot milk on cornflakes makes the cornflakes limp and unappealing. its not like hot cereal. also its warm in India and having hot cereal for breakfast does not appeal to me although I was willing to drink copious quantities of chai and tea. And golden eagle beer as it seemed to agree with my tummy.

I stopped drinking milk for good while staying with a family in Belgium for four weeks while in high school. The milk had a slightly strange taste to begin with, but their practice of taking it out of the fridge to warm it up for drinking put me off milk for life. I took up drinking coffee--so much better tasting than my mom's--and never looked back. I don't recall their heating milk for the muesli, which was the only breakfast cereal available. No toast, either, so I had to force myself to get used to bread spread with Choco plus fruit and yogurt.