Vietnam/Thailand 16

As we approach the holiday season and people’s minds turn towards the table, I thought I’d share a little advice gleaned from our time in Southeast Asia. Most particularly, our time spent at the buffet table. Even more particularly, our time at the Four Seasons brunch in Bangkok, though I suppose it can have more general application wherever in the world yet set before the trough. I call this a guide to gluttony

How best to approach the Sunday brunch at the Four Seasons in Bangkok? It is a question that takes some thought. After all, you need to focus on quality and quantity, while trying to manage beverage intake and the all important protein to fat ratio required for a truly memorable dining experience. Though we have friends that swear by the buffets they enjoyed at other fine establishments around the world, nothing I have experienced to date comes close to what is on offer when we return to our favorite weekend repast.

First, you need a game plan. You cannot simply show up and start eating. No, you must strategize and prepare. After years of practice, I have developed a simple, yet, I think, elegant approach, which I call “eating a lot.” Preparation actually begins the day before. Get plenty of exercise and try to spend some time out of doors. You won’t be doing either the next day. In the evening, eat a large but plain meal. You want to stretch your stomach. Do not try anything new, raw, or spicy. There is too much at stake to risk indigestion or other indisposition. Go easy on the alcohol and get some rest. Instructions for pre-meal preparations on the day are equally simple. Don’t eat anything. You’ve gone to the trouble of adding open space to your gut, why fill it up with cheap knick knacks when you’re about to put a Van Gogh on the walls. Also, be careful about exercise. A little early in the morning can help but don’t get carried away and start feeling all health conscious. There’s a time and a place for that. The Four Seasons at 11:30 am on Sunday is not that time and it most definitely is not that place.

Clothing. Of course you’re going to be wearing it, but is there a proper way to dress for the upcoming events? Yes, and no. Look, you’re not a snake about to devour a goat. Your anatomy is not going to change in any major way, so please no sweats or fat pants. Dress appropriately. This is a five-star hotel for God’s sake. Still, at the same time, ensuring you’ve got an extra notch or two left on your belt might be a good idea to maintain continued comfort as you head towards dessert.

Okay, you’re approaching brunch. What should you do? Rule 1 is eat whatever you want. If you like it, put it on your plate. Rule 2: Rule 1 is ridiculous and should be ignored. Even in Bangkok, you’re paying a good amount of cash for this meal (damn you ever-weakening dollar!), so you need to ensure good-value for money. Even those who most assiduously follow my game plan do not have endless internal capacity and so you need to stay focused. If you’re a vegetarian or overly-attracted to salads and fruit, this may not be the place for you. Sorry, but I’m sure the all-you-can eat Indian hole-in-the-wall has plenty of empty tables. Similarly, if you’re excited by Belgian waffles and eggs (which the Four Seasons has, by the way), you really should be booking yourself at your local IHOP. No, the focus here is on proteins, rare and exotic dishes, and high-caloric desserts. All else is superfluous.

It’s interesting that my wife and I approach the geography of the brunch so differently. She concentrates on reserving a table in the nicest area (you can choose between the Madison steakhouse, the Spice Garden Thai restaurant, or the Aqua lounge in the midst of the food stations – Liz prefers the Madison), while I can tell you exactly what delicacy is located where. Anyway, after you are seated take a minute to acquaint yourself with your surroundings. Don’t rush yourself and make a decision you will regret. While the purpose of the day is to eat until total satiation, that is not an excuse for waste and you should eat whatever you put on your plate. We’re not Romans, there is no vomitorium, so be prepared to enjoy what you put in your mouth only once. The genius of the Four Seasons is that the food will come to you. You are not limited by the size of your plate so be careful that your eyes aren’t bigger than your stomach. On your table you will find a basket filled with numbered cards. Hand one of these cards to a server at any food station, explain what you want and it will appear on your table within minutes. Magic.

Right. The food itself. In the Madison, you will find the salads, breads, and cheeses. Thailand is not renowned for its dairy products, so you might select a small slice of reblochon or manchengo, but don’t go overboard. Yes, the salads look great, but please control yourself. There is bigger game to catch. The Spice Market now appears to contain some Thai dishes. I don’t go there because there are other places for better Thai food. The Madison kitchen is the heart of the protein beast. There, you will find the meats and seafood you have come to enjoy. From chilled oysters, rock lobster and scallops, to prawns and crab on ice, this is a required (and possibly, frequent) stop. Turn around and you’re facing the grill. Sirloin, beef medallions, Lamb chops, tuna, trout, sausages. All grilled to your specifications.

Open to the sky (when not rainy or too hot), the courtyard area contains the largest concentration of food options. This is where you go for your exotics. A man wearing knee-high waders stands in a pond dishing out several varieties of caviar and traditional accompaniments. Like foie gras? There’s an entire station serving different preparations: pan seared with port wine sauce, as part of a custard with truffle oil. Around the corner, is an entire salmon with asparagus and béarnaise. Next to that, a variety of Middle Eastern dips and sauces, along with spicy lamb. I usually amble over to the Chinese section, where I spend some time with the dim sum before focusing like a laser on the roast pork and Peking duck. There’s now an Indian tandoor in the corner and it looks good, but I’ve yet to sample. On the other side of the door are your breakfast meats, eggs, and carbohydrates. All fine examples of the field, but should only be sampled as necessary. Take a few extra steps and you come to the sushi/shabu shabu stage. Tuna, salmon, eel, all fresh. Feeling Italian? There is a risotto station (I occasionally make an exception to my no-carbs-until-dessert to sample some).

Of course you’ll need something with which to wash this down. If you like champagne, you might try a Kir Royale or a Bellini. For vodka drinkers, an excellent selection of martinis. Careful – these are designed to complement the meal, not cause regurgitation. Drink in moderation. If you are not up to alcohol, you can order a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables to be juiced into your selected mix.

Still have room? You’d better, because now we approach the desserts. All along the outer wall of the Madison stretch tables filled with pastries, cakes, tortes, mousses, puddings, pies, candies, donuts and other baked products. And none of those mass produced somewhat stale selections you see at many other brunches. These taste as good as they look. The problem, again, is how to ensure variety when you just want to stuff your face with the bread pudding with homemade ice cream. Plus, you cannot forget the individual soufflé station. Chocolate, banana, chocolate-banana, grand marnier Your own personalized soufflé (or more accurately, soufflés). Five or six and you’ve successfully capped off a memorable experience. OK, now if you must, you can look at the salads.

The rest of the day. Don’t worry about it. This is not the day to sightsee. You should’ve cleared your schedule already.

Vietnam 15

Can Tho and the Delta

On occasion, I get away from the office on a work trip. Two weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit several provinces in the Mekong Delta with a delegation from the Department of the Interior (photos here). Three days of long drives, but a great opportunity to see a unique part of the country.

To get to Can Tho in the heart of the Delta, we drove south from Ho Chi Minh City for about 4 hours. It’s not that far as the crow flies, but as the van drives (along narrow and overcrowded roads), it’s much further. Plus, the scenery is largely ugly for much of the first three hours. Though you fairly quickly enter the “Mekong Delta,” you remain on VN 1, the main road. Like most developing countries, the Vietnamese built up all around the road and instead of vistas of paddy field and palm trees, you get shophouses, banks, food stalls, and, increasingly, industrial zones. Built in wetlands or in what was prime rice growing areas, these zones were created by local governments wishing to cash in on the export boom. Unfortunately, many are undersubscribed, pollute horribly, and disrupt the natural rhythms of the Delta. And it is only getting worse. Those who frequently drive south (the new airport in Can Tho is not yet operational) note dramatic changes in the landscape as more buildings go up and more farmland disappears.

Still, as we drove along, I noticed a difference from Ho Chi Minh City. We traveled over more and more canals as the land grew more marshy. We sped through a small town, in which over 1/3 of Vietnam’s rice exports pass through every year. The sun began to set, softening the tones of the road and we passed schoolgirls clad in ao dais and wearing floppy, floral hats pedaling their bikes along the side of the road. A few strands of fruit trees peaked through the buildings. When I rolled down the window, the heat and humidity reminded that this was not chilly, fall Hanoi. I was once again in the tropics.

To reach Can Tho, we passed over two of the seven arms of the Mekong (known in Vietnamese as the Nine Dragons, though two of them, evidently, have dried up). The first is traversed by a modern suspension bridge, while the second, just north of town, is still crossed by ferry. A section of the still-under-construction Japanese-supported bridge collapsed last year, killing 50 people, and delaying completion until 2010. The lines for the ferry can last for kilometers, adding hours to the drive. Fortunately, our hosts were well connected and we cut to the front of the line, just in time to cross as the sunset, with the Mekong’s rivers disappearing into the haze as distant lightning illuminated far off thunderheads.

Can Tho is a pleasant city. As the main metropolis in the Mekong Delta, this city of about 1 million people (I’ve heard widely variant population numbers, but people agree it is Vietnam’s fifth most populous city), is the jumping off point for trips into the Delta itself. Therefore, it hosts a surprisingly large number of tourists, most of which, it seemed, were staying at my hotel, the Victoria Can Tho. An elegant, 19th century hotel, it was packed with middle-aged Germans, French, and Israelis, as were many of the city’s restaurants. As an expat myself, I can hardly complain. But, still . . . I like to pretend sometimes that I’m a real adventurer. 60 year old hausfraus kibitzing over the black forest ham on the buffet tend to deflate that image. Anyhow, the waterways still serve as the region’s main connectors and boats can take you wherever you want. I ventured into the city by boat taxi. Every town has a floating market, where farmers bring produce, fish, and meat to sell and look over processed goods for purchase. However, you’ve got to get there soon after sun up to see them in action.

I ventured to Can Tho to take part in the opening ceremony for a USG supported climate change institute at Can Tho University. With 32,000 students, Can Tho U. is almost as large as a Big Ten school. It’s a safe bet that its endowment is much smaller, though the campus boasts a beautiful, modern library (funded by a US philanthropist) and several new buildings. The rector told me that it grants degrees in 114 fields and it specializes in marine and agricultural sciences.

The day after the ceremony, we visited Soc Trang and Bac Lieu provinces in the far south. These provinces have large Chinese and Khmer minorities and we passed numerous Khmer temples, which appear much like Buddhist temples from Thailand. Indeed, like Thailand, the Khmer culture looks back to India for its early influences, unlike Vietnam, which looks north to China. Many signs were in Khmer and I noted a growing number of people with strong Cambodian features. At the same time, the area also boasted many Chinese-style temples and the doorways of many houses were festooned with banners in Chinese.

Inland, most of the locals farm rice and we visited one small landholder, who showed off his 6 hectare farm, from which he derived a net income each year of about $1,200. Closer to the sea, most people turn to aquaculture, particularly shrimp farming. We stopped by one such small farm to check out the owner’s ponds. From a small pond, he can raise about 1.5 tons of shrimp each year, the prawns literally covering the entire bottom of the man-made habitat. Still, as the population of this part of the Delta has increased, it has created new stresses on the environment as mangrove swamps and wetlands are turned into farmland. Salinization, lack of storm cover, and other environmental problems threaten this area, the remaining wildlife, and the livelihoods of its locals. Climate change will exacerbate this process, and this has finally gotten the Government of Vietnam’s attention. There is hope, but climate change adaptation is going to be tough for a country so desperate to maintain economic growth.