Headline »

September 16, 2017 – 2:31 am

In this insightful gem, journalist and life coach Wanda Hennig writes wisely, hilariously and sometimes poignantly about sex and food; living for three-and-a-half years at the San Francisco Zen Center; moving solo from one continent to another; meditation; creative mindfulness strategies and more. Cravings: A Zen-inspired memoir about sensual pleasures, freedom from dark places, and living and eating with abandon (Say Yes Press). Edition Two (Mouth Orgasm edition) published August 2017 (ISBN 9780996820523 paperback; ISBN 9780996820523 eBook).

Read the full story »
Home » Culinary Adventures, Culinary Travel, Featured, Food Culture, Laos travel, Thailand travel, Travel Writing, World Travel

Thailand travel 4. Kamala Market cooks in a swirl of pink flounces

Submitted by on July 31, 2016 – 11:05 pm
Kamala Market, Phuket.

Chicken man cooks his chooks at Kamala Market, Phuket.

Brekker for me is two pieces of chicken with some well-spiced well-fired coconut shavings sprinkled on top, bought from a woman set up in her little cart at the side of the main road that runs through Kamala.

Elle and her Oz friend, Kerrie, choose at a roadside bar they like for their brekker.

I leave them to clink teacups of white wine (day two of Big Buddha Holiday) and set off on foot to see what I can find.

The market is buzzing

A walkabout in the village and down a side street brings me to a food market. It’s hot. Humid. The market is buzzing.

Veggies, fish, meat, cakes. People frying stuff. Grilling stuff. “Why is that chicken yellow?” I ask. Very strange it looks, took, naked and yellow as a banana. “Spicing,” I think is what the man says when he finally understands I don’t want to buy it, but just want to know about its jaundiced hue.

Markets are always places to be trigger-finger happy with a camera, aren’t they?

And to eat.

Kamala Market food stall.

She cooks in pink flounces and a mask.

I buy some — unidentifiable-by-me — deep fried leaves, from a woman wearing pink flounces and a mask and swirling bundles of them in a milky floury mixture and tossing them into sizzling oil. They come out crunchy, spicy and eat-them-all tasty.

When I gestured “hmm — delicious” she takes off the mask, comes out from her informal station behind the table, puts an arm around me, and asks her granddaughter to take a photo of us using her cellphone.

So then I give the kid my camera to take a picture for me, too. At which point the cook retrieves her phone and takes a selfie of us while we’re being photographed for me.

Chicken man roasting chooks

Love the larger-than-life chicken man roasting chooks at one of the counters. And that there are things I can’t identify. And the hot buzzy buzz of this busy outdoor place set up in mess and mud but with good, honest, real food.

And how pleasant and easy it is communicate in smiles and gestures. Although, wouldn’t I love to be able to ask a lot of questions. But doesn’t matter. Their culture. My enjoyment.

There is a second Popeye almost next door to Elle’s house. Last night’s was a restaurant. This one offers massage and beauty treatments. Small. Casual. Informal. Not where Elle goes. She has someone come in. But where I go because she says she knows they are pretty good.

© Wanda Hennig 2016, story and photos.

Don’t miss Thailand Travel 5.

Save

Save

Leave a comment

Add your comment below. You can also subscribe to these comments via RSS

Be nice. Keep it clean. Stay on topic. No spam.

You can use these tags:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong> 

This is a Gravatar-enabled weblog. To get your own globally-recognized-avatar, please register at Gravatar