Penultimate food post: Memorable meals from the trip

122 days, 17 weeks, 4 months, a third of a year. Any way you slice it, that's a lot of eating. But what really stood out, what were the memorable meals? To answer that question, I'm going to use only my memory, and leave the blog archives for another time. After this chronological review, I'll sift it all down to a Top 8 of the trip. Here are the candidates:

Japan

Sushi near Tsukiji Fish Market: The freshest, fishiest, most flavorful sushi of my life (details)

Tasting menu at Chaya Mario: Unbelievably good tofu and surprise after surprise hidden away in Hiroshima (details)

Iron Chef Matsue nights: Round after round of local seafood and bizarre creations (details)

Indonesia

Roast pig at Babi Guling: Succulent, spicy, and celebratory, as all roast pigs should be (details)

Mangosteens on Gili Meno: The essence of simple, bursting with vibrancy (details)

Singapore

Intricate Chinese tasting menu: Taste after taste of new eats ending with a hands-on demonstration of a sensational omelette (details)

Long Beach seafood extravaganza: Fantastic black pepper crab and a steamed fish that was even better (details)

Ah boiling at a hawker centre institution: Amazing and amazingly unexpected peanut dumplings in broth (details)

China

Hunanese fish head: A very big fish head with very many chopped chillies, soon reduced to bones and nothing more (details)

Ha'erbin streetside dumplings: After many, many plates of dumplings, these reigned supreme (details)

Sichuan, Sichuan, Sichuan: A hotter-then-hot hot pot in Shanghai, a bowl of chili oil for poaching, and a dry pot so spicy it made me numb (details 1, details 2, and details 3)

Sour cuisine of Guizhou: A big bowl of pig stomach and sour seasonings and, as a side, smelly fish grass salad (details)

Turkey

Kofte with a view: Meatballs and uberfresh vegetables on one of the Princes' Islands in the Sea of Marmara (details)

Feast at Ak Deniz: Where the food started and just kept coming, showcasing Turkish food done right (details)

Turkish breakfasts: From Kale at the beginning to Caffe Privato near the Galata Tower, a range of treats that makes any morning lavish (details 1 and details 2)

Israel

Home-cooked food from Ima: Delightful starter spreads and a tour through the best of Israeli cuisine (details)

Poland

Zapiekanki to celebrate: A pizza baguette after a fantastic set of World Cup semifinals (details)

Germany

Eating without seeing: Going dark at a dunkelrestaurant with ok food but an amazing eating experience (details)

Biergarten all afternoon: The biggest and best pretzels I've ever seen, raw radishes with lots of spice, sausage and whole fish to boot, rounded out by stein after stein of delicious weissbier (details)

Brunch at Gugelhof: Seriously the best blood sausage and seriously surrounded by three exceptional brunch-time dishes (details)

Doner kebab at Hasir: After one bite, I could feel the new addiction forming (details)

Czech Republic

Redemption at Lokal: Czech cuisine saves itself with fresh horseradish, fresh dumplings, and great beer (details)

Denmark

Arty cafe treats: At the Louisiana, easily one of the best museums I've ever been to, the most beautiful food that was fresh and tasty as well (details)

The Netherlands

Late-night Netherlands: Stuff-it-yourself falafel and vlaamse frites with special sauces end any day well (details)

Bevy of beards, part one

There's been no shortage of beard recently.

The beard admiring the excellent view from the Istanbul Modern, June 11, 2010.

The beard glowing in the lights of the festival in Jerusalem, June 16, 2010.

The beard taking in the Dead Sea and its tributaries, June 18, 2010.

A sea so salty it hurts

It was almost time to leave, but we hadn't done it yet. We hadn't floated in the Dead Sea. We couldn't come this close and not "swim" the salty sea. We headed down, to the sea, to the lowest point on earth.

I waded into the sea. I started walking out. I kept walking. I kept walking. I kept walking. Then, I noticed that my feet weren't touching the ground. But I wasn't sinking. And I wasn't treading water either. I was just floating there. What a odd sensation!

It felt as though the water was trying to pull my legs out from under me and bring them to the surface. Floating on my back was as easy as, well, just lying there. I think it felt somewhat like what suspended gravity would feel like, though a bit saltier.

Oh, right, the salt. Man, this was less like salt water and more like watery salt. It was so thick that the whole thing was a hazy, cloudy green color. I made the mistake of flopping around a little bit, trying to swim. I got some water in my eye and in my nose and it burned. Worse still, I couldn't rub it out because my hands were covered in salt. No option but to make like a bee for the freshwater showers (as best I could with my eyes closed...).

But still, what a sensation!

A three story palace with a view

The fortress of Masada beckoned us for a visit. Carved into a cliff overlooking the Dead Sea, this magnificent palace and living complex has an almost unbelievable history.

Built by Herod, King of Judea, sometime around 60 BC, the scale and technology of the place boggles the mind. They constructed a water capture and storage system that used eight cisterns, natural rainfall flow, and a set of donkeys to provide sufficient clean water supply for 10,000 people. 10,000 people, when only several hundred ever lived there at once! Herod apparently grew more and more eccentric and paranoid as the years went on, and holed himself up in his palace protruding off the front edge of the cliff with three different stories.

After he died, it fell into disuse for a little while, then was taken by the Jews as a refuge during the Great Revolt of the Jews around 60 AD against the Romans. Outnumbered more than 10 to 1 by Roman legion soldiers, the Jews bunkered in. The Romans built eight attack camps outside of the city and constructed, over the course of several months, a road large enough for them to bring an enormous battering ram up. The door held until fire broke out. On their last night, knowing that Romans would storm the fort in the morning, all the Jews decided to commit suicide rather than become slaves. They drew lots, 10 killed all the rest; they drew lots again and 1 man killed the other nine before falling on his sword. It is a dramatic story.

It doesn't end there. In the 5th century a group of monastic monks sought accommodation there, carving out minuscule cells and spending most of the week in solitary prayer. What a course of events for a castle fortress literally in the middle of nowhere.

It was neat to see in person too, as long as I stayed in the shade. The cable car ride up provided great views of the fortress and of the sea beyond.

From the top, we had free reign to explore the surroundings, including the three-story palace...

...the bathhouse...

...the vast storerooms, which contained large quantities of wine, apples, and other sustenance...

...and of course of the cisterns, vast empty rooms essential for life-giving water.

It is this kind of place that makes me just shake my head in wonder at what can get created, and why, at certain times.

Cooking a la kibbutz

Finding ourselves in the small community of Ein Gedi, our culinary options were limited to what was on offer at the local kibbutz dining hall. Though I was hoping we would be roped into helping prepare the food (it is a kibbutz, right?), no such thing happened. Instead, we found a sumptuous and well-stocked buffet for both dinner and breakfast.

The buffet had several sections in a communal semi-circular dining room. The most beautiful table, presentation-wise, was the cold meze table with lots to try. There was also a hot section that had some meats, a salad bar, and a overloaded dessert table.

To start, I got a selection of cold mezes. Starting at 12 o'clock, there was chickpea, onion, and spinach; shaved fennel and dill salad; sliced chicken and bell pepper; hummus; duo of earthy mushrooms; endive and grapefruit salad; and sliced carrot with jalapeños. All were excellent. The vegetables tasted freshly picked, perhaps they were from the kibbutz garden. The shaved fennel and the sliced carrot were the two I think about the most. The fennel was fennel at its height: a hint of anise, a great crunch, and an instant craving for more. The carrots were full of carrot-y flavor and the jalapeños made each bite different and surprising. I could have had a full and happy dinner with just these dishes.

The mains to follow were, from top left, chicken and rice strudel, braised beef brisket, sliced potato gratin, and green beans with carrot and black pepper. They were accompanied by a fresh roll with a healthy dollop of pesto tapenade. This plate, was, alas, a bit of a let down. The beef brisket was simple and straightforward, and quickly got old. The strudel was just so starchy, with too much rice, though the chicken had a nice seasoning. The veggies were overcooked and soggy. The pesto was a light in the darkness, with some very good olive oil at its core.

To lift my spirits after the sad mains I turned to a piece of caramelized apple wrapped in filo dough covered in a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate. It did the trick, temporarily, but was not note-worthy.

Awaking the next morning, I was amused to find a selection highly, highly similar to the breakfast buffet at Dan Boutique back in Jerusalem. Lots of cheeses, lots of smoked fish, lots of creams and yogurts, and lots of fresh fruit. Fortunately, some of those choices appealed to me.

On the lower plate there was fresh cheeses, one with paprika dust; vinegar-marinated tomatoes; densely-wrapped dough; and a cheese boureka. As a sauce for the dough was a mashed tomato mixture. Both were not good, with the dough being way too dense as to almost cause me to choke and the tomato being a bit, well, gag-inducing. The boureka and the fresh cheeses were nice, however, as were the marinated tomatoes.

The upper plate had some fresh grapefruit and melon and more bread with pesto. Both were tasty and fresh.

So, conclusively, the kibbutz proved itself capable of taking very fresh ingredients and mixing them gently to create some special dishes. I wish I had a bucket of the shaved fennel. It also, fairly conclusively, proved itself incapable of rendering good dishes when much cooking and flavor combination was required. Stick to the cold stuff, especially at dinner.

A hot hike to a cool waterfall

Three solid days in Jerusalem and it was time for a different part of Israel. We got a rental car and headed east, into the desert. On the other side, through the West Bank and south, was the Dead Sea resort town of Ein Gedi. A tiny place, it had a nature reserve, kibbutz and guest house, and spa. That was it.

On arrival, we went for a walk up a dry river bed that still had some active waterfalls. Our timing was not perfect, however. The day was a hot one and our visit landed right at 2pm, the hottest part of the day. It was over 100 degrees Fahrenheit and pure sun. So, a 15 minute walk to a waterfall turned into a trek of sweat, heat, and water breaks. The waterfalls were worth it, though.

The first one was a nice, 15 foot waterfall into a small pool. Refreshing for a dip.

The second was even better, with a rocky overhang and more height. The rocks were even concealing a large boulder, perilously perched on the edge.

The third was the best.

It was a tall, likely 100 foot waterfall into a beautifully colored pond. The water fell enough to get a good arc away from the rock.

In addition to the waterfalls, our hike through the hot desert climate was rewarded with views of the sea and a handful of light green, starting-to-fruit olive trees.

Superb food in a sizable cave-like setting

On our way home from the market, we had a determined destination for dinner: the highly-recommended Ima Restaurant, a family-run place whose name means "mom." The place was neat, with thick, rough rock walls and many small rooms lending a cool and homey air to the meal.

The first plate to arrive at the table was fresh pita, olives, and spicy tomato salsa. All were delectable. The pita was fresh and fluffy, still warm from the oven. The tomato salsa was an excellent take on a chunky, spicy gazpacho, with a bit of extra oil added. A terrific start.

Next was a set of three meze, clockwise from top left: matbucha, eggplant salad, and tabouleh. All were great, and each of us liked a different one best. The matbucha was a spicy tomato salad that had a good Middle Eastern spice to it. The eggplant salad was smooth and full of delicious eggplant taste without the bitterness. And the tabouleh blessedly had some olive oil added and was not dry at all, soaking into the pita with relish.

Then, a stuffed vegetable course, in this case a stuffed pepper. A fine rendition of a somewhat boring standard. Would be better to reinvent this one somewhat, adding some spice or some heat.

The kitchen quickly got back on track with the kubeh mustanfa soup. The kubeh, or meat dumplings, were chewy and flavorful, soaking up the tomato-based broth when opened. The squash that came roughly chopped was also hearty and excellent. Looks like red soup with beige filling, but tastes delicious!

And, lastly, there was the nightly special main, lamb meatballs wrapped in grape leaves with tahini sauce. Oh. My. God. These were transcendent. The lamb was perfect, spiced and seasoned and still quite juicy. The grape leaves were soft, able to be cut easily with a knife and providing a refreshing backdrop of greenery. And the tahini was diluted to the right consistency, not too viscous. So excellent, and so new. Delightful.

Of special note was the excellent Israeli wine we had there. It was a Syrah / Cabernet blend, from the Golan Heights region, and it was very nice. Not too thin and not too acidic, it helped the lamb be all it could be.

Also of special note was our waiter, Sonia. Out of many gruff servicepeople we've come across so far, she was friendly, laughing a couple of times, and helpful, telling us which dishes were note the best.

Ima may have just captured "best in Israel" from its Cafe Paradiso competitor.

A market and a nosh

The final destination for our time in Jerusalem was Machaneh Yehuda, a pedestrian produce and foodstuffs market known throughout the town. This was a neat market, with Israelis of all stripes doing their shopping in advance of the Sabbath and the weekend.

Based off the central artery of Agrippas St, several lanes were stuffed with fruit stands, vegetable stands, candy stands (the gummy selection is immense and everywhere in this town), meat stands, dessert stands (baklava...), spice stands, and more. It was all so colorful, so beautiful, that I could have just walked around for hours. Here is a selection of shots from the stroll.

Along the way, we stopped at an interior, bustling cafe for a quick bite to eat. It was highly European and I was delighted to order a Hoegaarden when I saw it on the menu.

To pair with that, I got a Camembert and warm mushroom sandwich on rye. Delicious, with warm, melty, gooey cheese mixing with the flavor-bursting mushrooms. Yum. It's not much to behold visually, but it worked to eat.

A sobering experience, as it always is

Day three brought a chance to understand more deeply the rationale for the founding of Israel. We headed to Yad Vashem, Israel's Holocaust Memorial and Museum. It was a profoundly powerful experience.

The museum itself is an imposing bare concrete structure. The audio guide contains interesting detail and stories that bring some of the different eras to life. Proceeding chronologically, the museum never rushes the storytelling. This resulted in me learning much more about the years in the late 30s in Europe than I had before.

One detail I had not heard much about before was the world's relative unwillingness to accept Jewish refugees needing political asylum. Indeed, the Evian Conference of the late 30s left nearly all the world powers, including the US, adopting stringent and quite selfish positions of stagnant quotas when Jews needed to flee Germany and other countries under Hitler's grasp. I would hope we are all collectively a bit wiser about the need for asylum in similar situations today.

The power in the experience came both from the detail in the stories and in the extent of suffering. Small specifics, like a anti-Semitic board game that children used to play, brought home the gestalt of the time. The procession of exhibits, including the build up to the war, the war, the ghetto-ization of Jews, and the mass murder of Jews and others, left a cumulative effect on me.

There was one uplifting part, near the end of the museum, where non-Jews who risked their lives to save Jewish lives are called out and honored by name. Famous names such as Oskar Schindler and Raoul Wallenberg share space with ordinary citizens who sheltered Jewish families at dear risk to their well-being. A powerful reminder that we are all humans.

Adventures of finding a decent cab ride in Jerusalem

The most unpleasant task in Jerusalem has turned out to be transportation. It is such a headache! We have taken about 8 cab rides during our time here, and only 1 was normal and without hassle. Better still, each has been bizarrely bad in its own way.

Our first driver spent the entire 25 minute ride essentially exhorting us to purchase his services for all day tours. After selling, hard, he would then say "I only give you ideas, I'm not pushing you to do it." Yeah, right! Oh, and he threw in a nice dollop of sexism on top of his running commentary.

Our second driver refused to use the meter, made up a story about the roads needing him to take us out of the way, and essentially charged us double for a very short ride.

By our third driver, we were more hip to the game and requested the meter be used before we got in. He acted very hurt, saying "I love you, I love you, why do you not trust me." He also said that he needed to go in a roundabout fashion and that's why he would give us a "good price" for not using the meter.

Our fourth ride was short, about 20 meters, as he reneged on his promise to use the meter and then kicked us out of the cab.

Our fifth followed shortly thereafter, and was a variation on the third. Asked to use the meter, he whined the whole way to our hotel about us lumping him in with other dishonest cabbies.

After that, I stopped keeping track. The only good experience was a cabbie that didn't talk who took us home from a downtown (read: local) section of town.

Jerusalem could really serve to get its act together on the cab driver front. It was absolutely no fun to go between locales, and even when we tried to make light of it the situation would get bizarrely tense inside the car. Weird, and not good business, either.

Festival of Light, in June

After two days of ancient relics, we were ready for a splash of contemporary life. Though it was the middle of June, Jerusalem was putting on a Festival of Light. Throughout the Old City and its surroundings, modern light sculptures and exhibits brought a brilliant, sometimes psychedelic exuberance to old stone walls.

First, we went to the light show, which aimed to tell the story of light in 90 minutes, from historic times to today. Though it was completely in Hebrew, we did get several laughs as it switched from one set of outlandish costumes to the next. They managed to work into the context of the show space for an acrobatic trapeze duo, a mad scientist sketch, a blue man group parody, and a show-stopping finale, among other scenes.

After the show, a quick stroll through some of the Old City brought forth some of the smaller exhibits. Some green covered poles were illuminated to look like tall swaying strands of grass.

Elsewhere, a bell tower had swaying bell images projected on it and a large robot-like statue had a very large heart.

The whole evening was an unexpected peak into some of the life of today of this city.

Tasty deli food in the heart of the Jewish Quarter

Halfway through our second day of wandering through the Old City, we needed to nosh. So we made our way through the Jewish Quarter to a little cafe and deli in the middle of a pedestrian square where five or so streets intersect. Keshet, the place was called.

Dish one was a lovely plate of latkes. One of my favorites of the Jewish pantheon of cuisine, I had been dying to have some of these since last Hanukkah. And these did not disappoint. Freshly fried, they had a nice balance of crisp outsides and potato-y insides. A good apple sauce and really good sour cream brought the essence of latkes to the fore. The little side salad was a convincing rendition that made me think the dish was actually a little bit healthy.

Next up was the Lyonnaise salad. Ingredients proved to be basic salad fixings plus hard boiled egg and smoked salmon. The dressing was a creamy dill. Good and fresh, but not too memorable. Would have been better tossed.

And, finally, a little pizza margherita to round out the meal. The crust was a little too thick, and the cheese a little too bland, but it did the job of making sure we didn't leave hungry.

With the sun shining and a nice breeze in the air, this deli was up to the task of providing a serviceable lunch and giving me a little shot of latkes.

A very beige, very old Old City, part two

The second half of our journey through Jerusalem's old quarter would balance our time amongst the three big religions present.

Our first stop was the Armenian Quarter. As part of the walk along its streets, we spied a bit of modern art among the ancient part of town: three figures crawling up one of the walls.

Soon, though, it was back to the old stuff. We came across the room where the Last Supper is said to have taken place.

Interestingly, there were signs of Islam in the room, with a structure that points in the direction of Mecca and some Arabic detailing on the walls.

It was at this point that we decided to ascend the Temple Mount. We thought it would be relatively straightforward. Just head for the highest part of the Old City, through one of the numerous gates that we had seen the day before. Alas, it was not that simple. The gates we could find were shut to all non-Muslims (as there is an active mosque on the mount). We kept getting confusing directions from folks that would send us back the way we had come. Finally, the answer pieced itself together. There was an ascending staircase from just outside the Western Wall through which visitors could enter the mount. The entrance was highly masked and looked like as temporary security installation. The only present sign was one that stated that the rabbinate of Jerusalem had ruled that orthodox Jews were forbidden from entering the mount, on account of the sacredness of the sites within.

Once inside, however, it was worth the effort. The central golden domes building was brilliant, surrounded by a concrete square and some small parks. The detailing in blue and white topped with a splendid golden dome was a remarkable sight. It is also said to contain a rock with a footprint of Mohammed, from where he ascended to heaven.

At 2:30, we were ushered out as visiting hours were over. From there, we headed straight for the Jewish Quarter, which had been dramatically refurbished since 1967.

We spent the afternoon wandering the streets, coming across interesting old doors, narrow hallways, and ancient urban infrastructre. Of the last, there was the Broad Wall, from the years 1000 - 586 BC, during the First Temple period of Jerusalem. I can't recall seeing older urban structures.

With that, our time exploring the ancient holy sites in the Old City was complete.