Here’s a quick list of basics, because it was surprisingly difficult to find all the important information in one place the first time I tried to figure out how to do it. And for the record, taking the Long Island Railroad from Penn Station to JFK is absolutely more reliable than taking a chance on traffic — and much more affordable than calling a car — if you’re near the train station in Midtown West.

1. Most people just buy LIRR tickets right they need to get on the train ($7 off-peak and $9.50 peak). But if it really makes you feel better to have them ahead of time, the tickets are valid for 60 days, including the day you buy them. Just nip into the station unless you’re planning way ahead — web purchases have to be mailed.

2. If you’re running super late, the lines are long, and there’s a train coming, get on it. You can pay the conductor when he comes through, at a small premium.

3. Local trains on all routes out of Penn Station stop at Jamaica, where you have to transfer to the airport AirTrain, except for the Port Washington Branch. (This was the most confusing part for me the first time I took public transit to the airport. And it took an unbelievable amount of Googling to figure out what route to take, until I landed on… Jamaica Station‘s Wikipedia page.) And if it’s peak hour, be sure you’re not on an express train. In the event that you accidentally do get on one, let the conductor know you’re trying to catch a flight when they comes through for tickets. They don’t advertise it, but they’ll usually let you hop off real quick at Jamaica.

4. It takes about 20-25 between Penn Station and Jamaica.

5. Jamaica is one to three stops after Penn Station, depending on the train. If you can’t hear the conductor announcing the stops clearly, keep an eye out for the digital signs on the walls at the ends of the train cars, which will display the name of the upcoming station.

6. At Jamaica Station, you have to pay for the AirTrain with a Metrocard — and it has to be a pay-per-ride one, not a weekly or monthly pass. It’s $5 each way.

That’s all, folks! Once you know which train to get on — which, again, is most of them — it’s pretty straightforward. It took me all of a half hour to get to Terminal 4 on a cold, rainy Wednesday before Thanksgiving (though I’d suggest budgeting 45 minutes, especially if you aren’t right in T1 or T2, to be safe). Sure beats sitting in traffic for an hour and paying $70+ for the pleasure.

Even the reverberating hum of voices filter through my ears in stages. In one corner, a vendor calls out to advertise the freshest fish in the house. In another, a florist fondly names the blooms currently in season. Down the aisle, a little boy acts cute to wheedle his mom into buying some candy. She sighs in feigned exasperation, then concedes.

Such are the sounds of the ShiDong traditional wet market in the Taipei, Taiwan neighborhood of Tienmu. The sights of the market, however, offer no such moderated introduction.

Colors and textures explode, haphazardly splaying out on tables and hanging upon ceiling fixtures alike. In front of that fish vendor, a smatter of silver scales and red flesh gleam in a sea of ice cubes. Swaths of brilliant pinks and oranges surround the florist while lush green leaves trail down from overhead. Behind it all, rainbow packets of foil and plastic snake across the wall, hiding all traces of the tiles that hold up the fort.

In a place that strives to offer everything there is to be desired, there is no room for white space.

Today, I am there with my mom, who wants to pick up some goose for dinner because I am home. As she tells the vendor what she wants and the thud of a knife sounds, I look away, unable to watch the decapitation even though I know the bird is dead. Instead, I stare at the rows of trays fanned out to my right: golden braised eggs, plump squishy tendons, porous squares of tofu, dark green swirls of seaweed.

But then I look up at the vendor. She is smiling at my mom, who has been a customer for years. “Have some chicken soup with that, and some of this,” she says, scooping up a smorgasbord of dry ingredients I wasn’t quick enough to identify. “Toss it in with some vegetables. It’ll smell delicious.”

I always come to the traditional markets in Asia looking to awaken my senses. I’d somehow forgotten that the communities they forge, and the little kindnesses doled out with many a business transaction, also stir my heart.

Getting There

100 ShiDong Road, Shilin District, Taipei City
台北市士東路100號
+886-2-2834-5308

Photo Credit

Beitou Market — LWY / flickr.com

There aren’t many ingredients I love more than bacon, so it’s not a huge surprise that I turned to The Bacon Cookbook for my next culinary project. Though I was looking for dinner dishes more than dessert, as someone who loves sweet-and-savory concoctions, I couldn’t resist some bacon peanut butter truffles.

These did turn out a little messier than I’d prefer. Part of this was probably due to substituting some of the butter with bacon fat, following The Wicked (Awesome) Whisk’s adaptation, for a stronger flavor of bacon. The chocolate coating didn’t set and harden perfectly, since the recipe doesn’t call for tempering, and I opted to skip the cocoa powder. I’m guessing it didn’t help that I used chocolate chips instead of bars, or that I might’ve been a little impatient and heated up the chocolate a little too quickly.

Some other notes: I didn’t have a food processor, so I chopped the peanuts with a knife. This meant that the truffle filling turned out slightly lumpy. Next time, I’d up the peanut butter and use fewer peanuts. But because I let the bacon get nice and crispy, it was very easy to handle.

Despite the messiness, these truffles are amongst the most delicious things I’ve ever made, if I may say so myself. Bacon’s yet to fail me.

Bacon and Peanut Butter Chocolate Truffles Recipe

adapted from The Bacon Cookbook

Ingredients:

• 6 slices lean streaky bacon
• 4 oz salted peanuts (about 1/2 cup)
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1/4 cup smooth peanut butter
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons bacon fat
• six 1-oz squares semisweet chocolate

In a large skillet, fry the bacon over moderate heat until crisp, drain on paper towels, and let cool completely. Reserve 2 tbls of the rendered bacon fat and let cool.

In a blender or food processor, combine the bacon, peanuts, and sugar and grind to a fine texture. Transfer the mixture to a bowl, add the peanut butter, and stir until well blended and smooth. Cover with plastic wrap and chill about 1 hour.

Roll the mixture into balls about 1 inch in diameter, place on a baking sheet lined with wax paper, cover with plastic wrap, and chill about 30 minutes longer.

Meanwhile, combine the butter, reserved bacon fat, and chocolate in a small sauce pan and stir over very low heat till melted and smooth. Remove from the heat and let cool until slightly warm.

Using a fork, coat the balls completely in the melted chocolate. Set them back on the baking sheet and refrigerate until firm (about 30 minutes more). If there is melted chocolate left over, give the balls a second coating. Store in the refrigerator till ready to serve. Or eat them all now. It’s your choice….don’t think it’ll be an easy one.

via The Wicked (Awesome) Whisk