Down to the Heel

My wife Tip and I flew direct from Chicago (ORD) to Rome (FCO), then took the Leonardo Express train to Termini Station to catch a train south to Bari. This route is being developed and will soon (soonish?) be a high-speed ride to Puglia.

Puglia has the longest coastline of all the mainland regions, with the Adriatic and Ionian Seas lapping at the shores and bringing that Mediterranean climate with them. This makes for good late- or off-season travel. We went in November. Puglia produces more wine than other regions and an abundance of the nation’s olive oil. 80% of its more than 320 square miles of vineyards produce red wines, including four distinct DOCG and 28 DOC zones. Primitivo di Manduria and Salice Salentino wines hail from here.

Long before the Romans, humans had settled the region in Neolithic times. The Greeks came in the 8^th century BCE, part of “Magna Graecia,” (same as Calabria and parts of Sicily) until the Roman Empire grew and took notice. Puglia has a long, deep-seated reputation for its poverty, in part due to the book Christ Stopped at Eboli, about the author Carlo Levi’s house arrest and veritable exile for political reasons back in 1935. But for a time in the 17^th and 18^th centuries it was actually quite wealthy. The rise-and-fall-and-rise-again story plays out in museums, especially in Matera (which is actually just over the border from Puglia in Basilicata). Nevertheless, the food here is excellent if a little influenced by that poverty — rustic pasta and some dishes less focused on meat, let’s say.

Bari

Bari is the capital of the region, a port city with a beautiful seaside for the evening passegiatta, several historical landmarks, a couple of theatres, and a tangled web of narrow streets that make up the historical city center, Bari Vecchia. We chose an AirBNB about halfway between the train station and the old city, which was perfect for daily exploration but also quick walks to the train and buses for day trips.

The foccaccia Barese is simple and amazing, a crisp olive-oil soaked crust with crushed tomatoes on top and a few olives. Places such as Panificio Fiore and Panificio Santa Rita have lines of locals down the cobblestone street and may sell out before their closing times. Spice fans should try the spaghetti all’assassina, cooked dry first in a hot iron pan to give it a char and some crunch, with garlic, olive oil, chili pepper, and tomato sauce to finish. The fresh octopus sandwiches at Mastro Ciccio are great and Peroni is on tap.

Don’t miss the Strada delle Orecchiette (the street of little-ear pasta) where the grannies (le nonne) make the traditional pasta by hand and dry it right there in the streets of Arco Alto and Arco Basso. Buy the thumbnail-sized variety – not the large, multicolored clamshell creations which are heavy (sold by the kilo) and aimed at tourists. (These are not sufficiently dried and may develop mold in a plastic bag, despite claims they’ll last a month! Ask me how I know.) We chatted with a few of the Nonnas, but got the bored stare from some of the others. Being a object to look at probably makes for some cranky grannies. We kept our photos to a minimum and of course asked before taking any. We failed to cook ours as it spoiled but we did order a plate of orecchiette con cime di rapa (pasta with broccoli rabe) at a local trattoria.

Speaking of local eateries: check out Carletto Cucina. A former restaurateur opens up his home each day for lunch and serves… whatever he is serving that day. It’s simple and delicious, as well as charming. Three or four tables in the street; local wine and fresh pasta. For our gelato fix we preferred Antica Gelateria Gentile near the castle (the same gelato in NYC traces its family roots here!)

St. Nicholas

You may have heard that the original St. Nick hailed from what is now modern Türkiye. Well, dem bones lie here in Bari. The 11^th-century Basilica of Saint Nicholas in Bari is important to pilgrims both from the Roman Catholic and Orthodox traditions. Nicholas served as a bishop during the late years of the Roman Empire, and when he died his remains were kept in a church in what would become the Byzantine Empire. As the Seljuk Turks took over the region, crusaders from Bari swiped some bones and brought them to the crypt here. A portrait of St. Nicholas suggests maybe Klingons were involved. What the heck?

Alberobello

Against conventional wisdom, we went only on a day trip rather than an overnight stay in Alberobello, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Feudalism was the rule of the land from the 1300s to 1797; literal land lords let the serfs toil in the fields and then collected from those harvests. Then the King of Naples wanted his cut. There’s always a bigger fish, eh? He taxed the landlord for the houses constructed on their land. Can’t tax what ain’t there, the lords figured, so they forced peasants not to use mortar so that the houses could be quickly taken apart before a tax collector’s visit. Insane. But these whitewashed stone houses with conical roofs like hats of stacked stones are now a tourist attraction and historical treasure. Alberobello has a great number of these so-called trulli. Travelers can stay in some of them as guesthouses, but unless you really want that experience, a couple hours here wandering through them like the set of a fairy tale may be sufficient. Get there early in the morning or fight the tour buses for a good camera angle full of… tourists. Our view on this may be tainted by not having a rental car. This agricultural region is the Valle d’Itria, known for scenic drives among the olive orchards and vineyards. In that case, a stay here might be a good idea. Remember that depending on the location of the trulli, you may need to park and roll luggage a long way down cobblestone lanes.

Lecce

Lecce is The Florence of the South, a Baroque city in the Salento area (the spike of the Heel). It took us 2 hours by train to get here from Bari. Visit the Faggiano Museum for some deep history. A local family tried to turn an old house into a restaurant in the old city, but as they searched for a mysterious under-floor leaky pipe, they made an archaeological discovery: ruins and artifacts right under the floor and dating back to the 5th century BCE and up to 20 feet deep. Glass covers some of the holes and in other areas you can actually climb metal stairs into the earth. A must-see and the family also hosts special events most weeks, including cooking classes.

Lecce’s churches are stunners, especially the central cathedral, rebuilt in 1659, with its prominent bell tower, as well as the Basilica of Santa Croce (Holy Cross) with an intricately-detailed façade that invites one to stare in amazement a very long time, day or night. A combined, multi-day ticket at LeccEcclesiae in the cathedral plaza gets you into four churches, a seminary and a museum. A Roman outdoor theater and part of an amphitheater are both visible without tickets and reveal another layer to the city right in the midst of the Baroque Period’s buildings.

A daily trip to the bakeries is advised. Try the little bathtub-shaped pastacciotto, a shortbread made with lard and filled with cream, and sip a caffè leccese, an espresso over ice sweetened with almond milk syrup. For smart regional wine recommendations and good prices, go to Gianluca at Enoteca Nocco Lecce Dal 1950. The only restaurant we went to twice — only because we like to try as many as possible — was 63 Osteria Contemporanea which serves traditional dishes and flavors but with delicious and unpretentious modern adjustments. We loved it that much. Reservations are a must unless like us you are willing to eat early (before 8pm). We were able to get in closer to 7 and were basically dining alone for a while.

Matera

One of the drawbacks to November is that the seasonal buses and some trains stop running. They still exist, of course, in some capacity, but when you are on the clock as we were with about 10 days vacation here, you have to adapt. Fortunately for us, FlixBus operates in Italy and they ran dependable long routes (starting in Puglia and running to say Rome or even Torino) that stopped in major cities along the way. So we picked up tickets on our phones and reserved seats for a bus ride from Lecce to Matera in nearby Basilicata.

The city, half of which is carved out of the rock, dates back to the Paleolithic Period and is considered one of the longest continuously occupied places in Europe. Residents lived in caves and built atop of each other’s homes along a cliff overlooking the Gravina, a steep river valley. Matera was once the “the shame of Italy” — see the aforementioned book by Carlo Levi — and to truly appreciate the city, I’d recommend starting your visit with a trip to the museums. Start with visits to Casa Noha and Vicinato a Pozzo, which provide short video introductions in historical settings. The story of Matera’s rise, fall and eventual return is fascinating and you will get a better feel for the place. Stay in the Sassi (the old city).  They help you appreciate the depth of Matera’s story and the experience of those who lived there. Then let yourself get lost in its narrow alleys and zigzagging staircases. Enjoy brilliant sunsets against rapidly changing skies from various viewpoints in the city or even along the opposite cliff. Hike to the bottom of the gorge and up to the opposite side (there is also a regular small bus making the trip there). The view of the city is great, but there are also some caves and Neolithic sites and a number of trails for an easy day hike in the sun.

We used buses, but in season a train runs to Bari from here. Consider a rental car or motorbike to explore the area outside town, including a visit to the distillery that makes the delicious regional digestive Amaro Lucano. (There’s a Lucano store in town if you can’t make the trip.)

Scratching the Surface

We took nine nights to visit these places, but did not nearly exhaust the area. We missed Brindisi, a port town with ferries across the Adriatic Sea to Croatia and Albania. Gallipoli has beautiful beaches and a reputation for rowdier night life in high season, while Otranto, with its dramatic rocky coastline is a bit more serene and family friendly. Taranto is famous for its oysters and other seafood, and a 15^th century Aragonese castle. We didn’t visit Puglia wineries as we could have with a car or via organized tours. If we had had much more time, we would have even dared to take the train west over the mountains to Calabria for another great region to explore. But Puglia itself is worth going back for again and again.

If You Go

When tourism slows in November , the region becomes more relaxed. While the hot temperatures up north are behind us, the south still can be quite seasonable while the north starts to get chilly. On the other hand, beaches won’t be as great and some of the public bus system shuts down for the season. Flights from Rome are numerous and affordable. Trains are pretty good, but our 4.2 hour journey was an hour late. Current projects may bring true high-speed rides in the near future.

Getting Around

Rental cars are great for getting out into scenic countryside and small towns along the coast. The drawback is parking if you are staying in a city. Know before you go: check if your hotel or AirBNB has parking options. But we relied on buses and trains. For smaller tourist sites such as Alberbello or Mantera, bus might be the only option. FlixBus offers affordable and reliable routes for runs such as Matera-Bari or Lecce-Taranto, etc.

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Add to that the pumpkin. First cultivated by humans in North America as many as 9,000 years ago, the round bright-orange winter squash was one of the first foods taken back to Europe. Cookbooks in Great Britain already had recipes for pumpkin/pumpion custards with pastry crust in the 17th century. Recipes often added apples, and more savory herbs such as thyme, rosemary, and marjoram.

Thanksgiving

A time to gather to be thankful for our friends and family, our good fortune, and for some, the end of pumpkin spice season.

Harvest feasts have long been common, a celebration of a successful growing season and a meal prepared from the bounty. According to a December 1621 letter from Edward Winslow of the Plymouth Colony, the Pilgrims had a three-day feast sometime that fall, and members of the local Wampanoag community were in attendance. The moniker Thanksgiving wouldn’t appear until later. And while the holiday began to emerge on various fall dates, it wasn’t until 1863, while the nation stood divided by the Civil War, that Thanksgiving was proclaimed a national holiday by Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln was likely influenced by a letter from Sarah Josepha Hale, a writer and editor whose work in the late 1800s pushed for a designated feast day and a standardized menu that included turkey, stuffing, and, of course, pumpkin pie.

Word Origins

The English word comes to us from Greek, oddly enough, where they didn’t even have pumpkins or other squash, but they did have melons and gourds (and unless you are a botanist, there isn’t a significant difference. A Greek word for “cook” was applied to a melon being ripe, as in “cooked” in the sun, and so evolved the word pepon, meaning melon. It passed into Latin as pepo and further on into Middle French as pompon from where it was borrowed by English as pompion (See Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsor) and took on a diminutive suffix –kin.

A more recent origin theory purports that the Wampanoag had a word pôhpukun (ponh-pu-kun) meaing “grows forth round” and so the etymological debate is on. Detractors cite an absence of historical references in early writings, the widespread presence of the word in English around the time of the first contact with Wampanoag. It may be that the word was taken up by the Wampanoag from the English. But then, wouldn’t they have their own word? But perhaps they would use the English word when communicating with English speakers? Leaving that one for the experts to sort out.

“As Easy As Pie”

Whoever came up with this expression likely was referring to eating pie not making it. Pies require a bit of work, especially just to get the crust right. My mother, now decades in as the prime Thanksgiving dinner cook and baker cringes at the thought. “A lot people don’t like pie. I don’t care for it,” she tells me. “I always felt that rolling out pie crust was too much work. Sometimes they just want a little piece, you know, and so…”

And so she picked up a couple of cheats that have become family favorites.

Mother’s Shortcuts

Always a stickler on the importance of healthy eating and yet a strong defender of baked desserts, Mom adds, “Pumpkin is supposed to be very healthy for you.” It’s true. By itself pumpkin is rich with potassium, vitamin A and the antioxidant beta-carotene, but you might want to watch the amount of sugar, butter, sweetened condensed milk and whipping cream with which it is often served. Scratch that. It’s Thanksgiving and you can worry about that some other month. Mom says it’s healthy, so it’s healthy.

Some may note that allspice is absent here. Allspice is made from the dried and ground unripe berries of a tree native to the Caribbean, and it is also the prime ingredient for Jamaican jerk seasoning. The name comes from it being similar to cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon – you know, all the spices – and so it blends nicely in your pumpkin pie filling, but we go with cloves instead.

Notice the aroma throughout the house while these are baking. You can skip the pumpkin spice potpourri.

Annie’s Pumpkin Pie Bars

Ingredients:
For the Crust:
1 cup flour
½ cup oatmeal
½ cup brown sugar
½ cup butter

For the Filling:
2 cups of pumpkin (1 15-ounce can)
1 12-ounce can evaporated milk (you can use low-fat 2%)
2 eggs, beaten
¾ cup sugar (may be reduced to taste)
2 teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon ginger
½ teaspoon cloves

For the Topping:
½ cup of chopped walnuts
½ cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons softened or melted butter

Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Soften butter a bit and place all the crust ingredients in a bowl, mix them into a crumb-like consistency and spread evenly in the bottom of a 9×13 cake pan. You do not need to create raised crust edges. Bake for ten minutes.

While the crust is baking, make the filling: Beat the eggs, add and mix the remaining ingredients thoroughly, and pour the filling over the baked crust. Bake this for 20 minutes. Insert a knife an inch or two from the edge, and if it comes out clean, it is done.

For the topping, mix the chopped walnuts, brown sugar, and melted butter. Sprinkle the mixture evenly across the bars and bake another 15 minutes. Let the dish cool and set, then refrigerate it before serving and afterward if there are leftovers. Cut into squares and top with whipped cream or Cool-Whip. Makes about 16 bars.

The original recipe called for condensed milk, I’m told, but that was way too rich. My mother adds a few pinches extra of some of the spices and cuts back on the sugar in most cases. (I’d round down the brown sugar for the topping myself.) This is great as is, but you may want to make it your own.

Pumpkin Cake

Still unsure about that texture of pie filling? Maybe cake is a better option for you.

Cake Ingredients:
1 cup vegetable oil
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
1 16-ounce can pumpkin
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2½ teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon nutmeg
½ teaspoon ginger
1 cup chopped walnuts (optional)

Mix all ingredients and bake at 350F for 40-45 minutes on a greased and floured 9×13 cake pan. A toothpick poked into the middle and pulled out clean tells you it’s done. Allow the cake to cool before adding frosting.

Frosting:
3 ounces cream cheese
6 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon milk (more if needed)
¾ cup crushed walnuts (optional)

Soften the butter. Mix all the ingredients to a frosting consistency, adding milk as needed if it is too thick for your tastes. Spread the frosting over the cake and sprinkle with crushed walnuts if you choose. Refrigerate leftovers. Serves about 12-14.

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A group of five friends plus my wife and I had booked a private boat with Wild Encounter Thailand. After a 40-minute drive south from the city center to the very end of the river we went a short distance east from its mouth to one of the many klongs or canals that branch out from its banks. There we boarded a colorful wooden boat, an open-air affair for up to 12 passengers, with a small upper deck shading the length of the craft, which rode low to the water. Our guide Jirayu “Tour” Ekkul was joined by the boat captain Mr. Jeng and crew member and spotter, Mr. Noom.

As we left the klong for open water, we passed thick rows of dark sticks, their tips just above the water. “Mussels,” Tour told us. They grow along the shafts and at low-tide the “farmers” come out in small boats, lower themselves into the shallow water and harvest the mussels from the poles into floating buckets they’d then dump into their boat. We continued straight out to sea past a small Thai salon rising up on pilings above the waves.

Tour gave a mini lecture with cue cards. The sea is shallow here, typically from 25-45 feet with deeper areas reaching 60-90 feet. The coastline is ideal for mangroves and the muddy bottom supports filter feeders such as crabs and mollusks. But the ultimate filter feeder in these parts was a mammal.

Bryde’s (BREW-duh’s) whale bears the name of Johan Bryde, a Norwegian ship owner and whaler around the turn of the 20^th century, who first identified it and they are reliably spotted here. These are baleen whales, the toothless variety that send seawater through their natural sieve of stiff bristles to extract the smaller sea life such drifting crustaceans, squid, and small fish. The adults tipped the scales at about 30 tons and could be up to 45 feet long. Each year, pregnant whales come here to raise their calves. Each year Tour’s crew sees more activity. “This year we have seen four babies,” he told us.

The boat plied waters thick with anchovies, and flying above our wake, excited terns kept pace, diving at the silvery flashes amid the churning foam buffet. Anchovy fishing crews worked the Gulf of Thailand, with about 80% of the catch going to nonhuman consumption such as chicken feed, for example. As we broke waves, an occasional panicking fish leapt into the boat and one of us would go to the rescue, likely feeding it back to a tern.

Within a half hour of departure a shout from Mr. Noom on the small upper deck had all of us on our feet. “Dolphins!” The boat slowed and altered course. Four or five at a time would roll up for a breath and back into the waves a couple hundred feet away moving away from us. Almost immediately others leapt from the water, and we realized we were pursuing more than we could definitively count. Captain Jeng estimated a pod of thirty. It had to be something so unusual because Tour allowed us to be sidetracked a few moments, and a friend who’d been on this trip before said he is typically quite adamant about staying after the whales. Not long after we continued farther out to sea, we saw our first spout and a long black body just broke the surface of the sea as the magnificent creature crossed before us at about 200 feet.

I’ve been out to see humpbacks before, admiring them typically at a distance, trying to get a quick photo of a dissipating spout, the curve of a back glistening in the sun for a moment, perhaps a tail rising out of the water as they dove. Bigger activity such as breaching always happened in the distance, mocking my medium-range telephoto lens.

But Bryde’s whale is a bit of a camera hog. First its rostrum, the snout, emerges slowly as if a whale had a nose there to take a sniff rather than the blowhole farther back on the top of its head. Then the whale rises, black and slender or, if one sees the underside, a distinct pink. When it is ready to feed it remains pointed to the sky and drops its lower jaw like opening a mailbox, so that it rests just along the surface of the water, the mouth filling with water and fish, many of which jump in of their own accord. When the whale senses enough of a serving, it sinks slowly into the sea, closing their mouths and disappearing with a catch to swallow whole.

We witnessed this several times that day, initially firing out long bursts of camera shots until we realized how long they linger up in the air like that, and then took our time, savoring the view, admiring the skill of the hunter.

Tour is knowledgeable and the crew is adept at finding the whales and maneuvering to within a polite distance so as not to disturb them. (I’ve seen crews chase them every which way in other destinations.) The observations and photos they gather are shared with the Department of Marine and Coastal Resources (Endangered Species Unit & Research Center) and other scientific organizations. and while Tour is above all professional in his management, he’s as excited about the whales as any of us.

As began the turn back to port, again, we found whales. One rose into the air to feed and held there, while a smaller one nearby exhaled a modest plume. “This is Mae Kanya (“Mama September”) and this is her fifth calf,” Tour told us, pointing out distinguishing marks along her body. She is a grandmother, actually, and the first whale the crew had entered into their database when they started keeping records in September 2011. Tour smiled like a new father, “And this is the sixth calf we have seen this season! More than any other season.” Beyond them we could still see the Bangkok skyline, low to the horizon, blue in the distance. An incredible moment.

It took more than an hour to return to port, and the boat slowed a moment. Tour and Captain Jeng discussed something urgent, pointing to two orange flags fluttering on tall buoyed bamboo poles set far apart in the sea between us and the entrance to the klong. A fishing method called a longline was likely strung loosely between the flags and dangling shorter lines along its length with multiple hooks on each. Tour explained, “The fisherman use nets and we don’t know exactly where they are.” These can get caught in boat propellers and, even more alarming, they are known to have caught and drowned whales in the past. Longlines, crab traps, and lost or abandoned “ghost” nets may or may not be legal, depending on how they are categorized. Certain NGOs and authorities police it, but not always successfully. The captain gave the flag a wide berth and took us back to the dock. The growing interest in these whales would likely give conservationists some leverage against dangerous fishing methods, and maybe Mama September would one day be a great-grandmother.

________________________

Wild Encounter Thailand does private and mixed public tours, with boats that accommodate 12, 30, and 50 passengers. The smallest craft is the only one without air-con. Trips start at 8am and last 7 to 10 hours. The Wild Encounter Thailand web page is getting an overhaul currently, but the Facebook page works just fine and the admin staff know English.

Office number: +66-92-845-9444 or +66-83-375-9696

Use LINE app to chat using these mobile numbers as well.

Email: jirayu.wildencounter@gmail.com (or) brydeiedeni@gmail.com

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“I have chosen to give the more traditional version here,” says María Llamas, “but recipes can always be adjusted to taste. Some regions, such as Extremadura, use pimentón de La Vera [a particular Spanish smoked paprika] in its spicy or sweet version, instead of cumin. Some do not like garlic in their gazpacho and prefer to add a quarter of a large onion instead. Others prefer not to add bread.” Some add strawberries or melon even. In any case, these should go in before the blender stage.

RECIPE:

• 2¼ pounds ripe tomatoes
• ½ green bell pepper
• 1 cucumber 
• 2 garlic cloves
• 1 tablespoon salt
• A few cumin seeds 
• 2 to 3 tablespoons sherry or wine vinegar 
• 2 slices day-old bread, without the crust
• ¾ cup extra virgin olive oil 
• 3 cups cold water

Wash the tomatoes and pepper and peel the cucumber. De-seed the pepper. Coarsely chop the tomatoes, pepper, and cucumber, reserving half of a tomato and a small amount of pepper and cucumber to finely dice for garnish. 

With a mortar and pestle, crush the garlic with the salt and cumin. Place the resulting paste in a bowl with the vinegar, and then add the bread, oil, and the chopped vegetables. Add ice-cold water and let it steep for at least 30 minutes, but preferably two hours in the fridge. 

Puree the mixture in a blender and adjust the seasoning to taste. Strain the mixture and place in the fridge to cool down. 

According to Llamas, gazpacho should be served very cold, and can be garnished with finely diced green pepper, cucumber, tomato, and bread or also finely chopped Iberian ham and boiled egg. Often you will have it in a small serving glass.

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“I’ll take a dog, run it through the garden, in a paper bag to go,” said my friend Danny, mimicking the Chicago accent as he explained how one orders what passes in Chicago for “the works” on a hot dog. I sat on a brutally awkward concrete Mustard’s Last Stand on the edge of the Northwestern University’s campus. My wife Tip and I were in Chicago for the weekend to celebrate both the Fourth of July and National Hot Dog Month.

Origins of an American Classic

The concept of a sausage – chopped or ground meat in a casing – lies far enough back in history, predating nation states, so to make any direct claims on the concept’s creation is moot. Its origins are “lost in the mists of time,” writes Bruce Kraig, PhD, professor emeritus in history and humanities at Roosevelt University and adjunct faculty at the Culinary School of Kendall College. In Hot Dog: A Global History he tells us archaeologists have found evidence of meats in animal gut as far back as the Upper Paleolithic 20,000 years ago.

The hot dog, however, is a truly American food, with its origins, of course, in immigration. We also call them franks – short for Frankfurter, from Frankfurt, Germany –and wieners, as in from Wien (Vienna). So we can at least see right away that German immigrants put their mark on them here in the United States.

Myths abound as to the name origin – a World’s Fair, Coney Island, and various ballparks – but Kraig digs through the filler to find the meat of the story: a food cart in the 1890s The Kennel Club near Yale, soon referred to as the Dog Wagon, serving a sausage in a split bun. Others followed. Klein’s book documents references to these carts, and the hot dog subsequently appeared in magazines, cartoons, and songs. Recent arrivals in America, Germans were mocked for their accents, and jokes were made at their expense – including some that suggested dogs made it into their sausage recipes. You still see Dachshunds wearing buns in hot dog stand logos.

Chicago-style Dogs

Even today jokes abound about the ingredients of a hot dog. Yet we still eat them like crazy in all parts of the country (and even the world). Many places have become associated, however, with a very specific way to dine on a dog. Rules, you might say. So the hot dog unites us as much as it distinguishes our individuality. E pluribus unim. From the many, one. So the hot dog unites us, yet each person has their individual favorite or a particular way of preparing them. A favorite brand, a favorite stand, and a specific medley of condiments – but in the end, they are all hot dogs.

In 1865, Chicago’s Union Stockyards opened and soon saw millions of animals arriving annually in the meatpacking district, compelling poet Carl Sandburg to dub the town “Hog Butcher for the World” in his 1914 poem “Chicago.” Unsurprisingly, Armour & Co. and Oscar Mayer got their starts in Chicago, and in 1893, Austrian-Hungarian immigrants Emil Reichel and Samuel Ladany founded Vienna Beef. The partners debuted their frankfurters at the Columbian Exposition, Chicago’s World’s Fair that same year.

My Chicago friend and food-enthusiast Geoff Burton happily informed me of the basics: a Vienna Beef hot dog in a poppy-seed bun, topped with tomato, onion, celery salt, sport peppers (short, pickled, medium-spicy green peppers similar to a pepperoncini), a pickle spear, piccalilli (a pickle/green tomato relish often the bright green color of a candied cherries), and yellow mustard. And good lord, do not ask for ketchup, positively verboten by the faithful. Chicago dogs are typically steamed or char-grilled; not boiled and never on a roller like at the gas station. Natural casing is not required, but it does give the dog that marvelous snap when you bite into it.

My own personal favorite, first eaten when I lived in Chicago back in 1991, is from The Wiener’s Circle, famed for its brusque yet endearingly profane treatment of customers. They are under renovations at the moment, soon to reopen serving alcohol, but I remember them as the ultimate late-night stop with a bit of comedy. Their char-dogs should be on any short list of Chicago dog stands.

Windy City Dog Joints

I had checked in with Geoff Burton, an old friend, Chicago resident, and expert on all delicious things, to help put together a short itinerary of great places to go Chicago-style.

He prefers them char-grilled (a char-dog) and smothered with a good cheese sauce. (See The Wiener’s Circle). To be clear, this list is nowhere near exhaustive, nor is it ranked. There are no losers here – only wieners.

In the 19^th century, the Maxwell Street Market opened in what was then the Jewish quarter of Chicago. As the bustling market and neighborhood grew it was often referred to as “the Ellis Island of the Midwest.” Unlike the traditional frankfurters which contained a mix of pork and beer, the Jewish sausages went all beef. The mere absence of pork didn’t necessarily make them all kosher, but the general public had the impression that these were higher quality dogs. Abe “Fluky” Drexler opened Fluky’s Red Hots in 1929, the first hot dog stand in Maxwell Street. Others followed. When Maxwell Street fell to development and the market moved, vendors were cast about town or closed altogether.

Our first dog of the day was at one of the survivors: Jim’s Original, most famous for its Maxwell Street Polish sausage. Open 24/7, Jim’s makes a great late-night stop and its location right off I-90 just south of Roosevelt makes it your quickest stop if just passing through town. My sport pepper was a larger pickled pepper that left me hiccupping at the heat. The pre-prepped, sweet grilled onions may seem a bit soggy, but these were delicious nevertheless. All come with a side of crispy French fries. This is a stand with a sidewalk counter along the wall; at the other end of the building is their burger stand if that’s your thing. Easy in and out with street parking.

Our next southside stop was central to all true Chicago dogs: Vienna Beef. Founded in 1893 in Maxwell Street, the sausage maker grew to factory sized proportions and they now operate a store across the street from the factory. You can stock up on all things hot dog (skinless or natural casing) plus the precise (and branded) toppings. The store also serves as a hot dog stand, with a standup counter inside and picnic tables outside. Not getting to Chicago soon? They will ship you any of the ingredients, including a couple “kits” only available on their website. Look for the Vienna Beef logo in the signage at any proper hot dog location. The company loves the brand loyalty and inducts vendors into their hall of fame each year.

I fumbled with my hot dog and camera outside. “Gimme ya camera!” said a burly guy, without introduction, wiping his hands on his pants from where he left his dog at a table under a Vienna Beef umbrella. My startled look prompted him to add, with a stereotypical Chicago accent to put a Saturday Night Live sketch to shame. “Get a picture of you two.” (He may or may not have said “yous.”) Tip and I posed under the Vienna Beef sign. He snapped a few shots and returned to his meal.

Geoff joined for stops 3-5. We hit a basement restaurant in a repurposed red-brick walk-up: Flub A Dub Chub’s, which has won awards in the 15 years since it opened. Rosemary Giarratano – a wry, seen-it-all member of the Giarratano family that owns and operates the joint – brought out a Flubby, the signature Chicago dog, and the most perfectly prepared and photogenic one we had that day, with a side of tater tots. At this point I misidentified it as my order but it was for the next table. I ended up delivering it with Rosemary after the mix up at which point she fired me on the spot. Thus making this the fastest I’ve ever gone through the hire and fire process. Probably. One can add cheese sauce, chili, and/or a bacon wrap here, and the menu offers 14 dog recipes, including a vegan option. Frankly, I loved this place.

Next stop: Fatso’s Last Stand, and Geoff finally got his char-dog of the day. All the usual ingredients plus a side of house fries, a line up of Jarritos sodas, and some interesting milkshake flavors, including “Irish Coffee,” with the expected whiskey.

Superdawg combines the All-American food with the All-American drive-in. Stay in the car, order at the car-side speaker and lighted menu, and a carhop brings your order. (Sorry, no roller skates.) These were all beef, but not Vienna brand and a bit thicker. They come with fries and a pickled green tomato slice among the toppings all in a handy little cardboard box which really helps keep your food off your clothing better than the typical paper wrapping. Come in the evening to see the hot dogs Maurie and Flaurie light up on top of the building.

After bidding farewell to Geoff, we shared dogs with more friends at Mustard’s Last Stand, before finishing the day at another institution: Gene & Jude’s. Founded in 1946 by a couple of city workers, Gene Mormino and Jude DeSantis got inspired when they felt their ballpark dogs at a Cubs game were missing something. Not fries with that but fries on that. Their hot dog stand has been a fixture in River Grove, IL since 1950, in a white-tiled building with big lighted signs along the awning for each item on the short menu.

Inside, the line was fairly long but then so was the line of employees behind the counter, taking orders and moving them out quite quickly. “No seats, no ketchup, no pretense, no nonsense” reads their website. The wall in the spacious counter area is adorned with awards and feature articles. What you get here is known as a Depression Dog, based on simple cheap frankfurters of old, without the mountain of toppings. Mustard, relish, onions, and sport peppers are optional, and there are no pickles or celery salt. The fries are hand-cut and laid right on top of the dog. Along with the dogs you can order tamales. A marvelous twist and reminder of everyone putting their own spin on American food.

We drove back to Wisconsin, stuffed and quite sick of hot dogs. As we rolled into town that evening, neighbors celebrated the 4^th of July with a cook out. Working the grill, Neighbor Jerry raised his tongs in greeting. “Hot dog??”

I sighed. “Sure, why not?” Who can say no?

The post Chicago Road Trip: In Search of the Best Chicago Hot Dog appeared first on The Mad Traveler.

by Kevin Revolinski

Quarantine to me always meant science fiction movies where something untoward has happened to the characters and they are forcibly removed by men in hazmat suits to an undisclosed location. I’d never imagined that for my next vacation I’d be actually booking my quarantine. A bit like shopping for your prison cell: Can we get something with a southern exposure and Netflix, and perhaps exclusive time in the yard? But so it goes, and we spent a week in a 462-room hotel with 10 rooms occupied. Bordering on a sci-fi story, but with a 24th floor river view and hazmat suits that were light and disposable.

We return annually to Bangkok to visit my wife’s family, and as her mother approaches 80, it has become more of an imperative. So when 2020 put the kibosh on March travels, we waited – like many – for a travel opening. Thailand closed its borders completely until October 20, 2020 after which one could enter only with a pre-approved Certificate of Entry (COE), and even then a fourteen-day hotel quarantine was enforced. These efforts helped keep the Thai average daily COVID cases at nearly zero from May through December, and even after a spike at year’s end, deaths remained less than 100 in the country of nearly 70 million – more than double the population of Texas but three-quarters the area.

An Opening

Finally, on April 3, 2021, the Thai government announced a seven-day stay for travelers with vaccinations at least two weeks beyond the final dose and less than three months old. Moderna jab No. 2 had already been scheduled, so my wife immediately asked for four weeks’ vacation, and we started gathering the documentation necessary for a COE from the consulate. The process included obtaining travel insurance with minimum coverage of $100,000 specifically mentioning COVID, which seemed silly. “It is an illness and should be covered under typical health coverage,” I argued. Once bitten, twice shy: a company had denied coverage to a traveler who got COVID and the Thai government was left with the bill, the consulate staff person explained with characteristic Thai patience.

That night I requested a letter with the required verbiage from World Nomads travel insurance, and a signed PDF was waiting in my inbox the next morning. We resubmitted our COE application, got approval, and had fifteen days to book flights, pay half the hotel, to receive the actual document. That and our passports, vax cards and even a marriage certificate (as we have different surnames) went to the hotel, and were good to go – after a negative COVID test result within 72 hours of takeoff. Documents for all of these things had been sorted by the consulate and hotel, but had to be presented for review again by Japan Airlines agents at check-in at O’Hare.

We sashayed through security, chatty with TSA agents with nothing much to do. We boarded a plane with 34 passengers to Tokyo Narita and lay out across the middle seats, and had a similar experience on the connecting flight to Bangkok.

Arrival

Thai nationals returning home can get basic accommodations paid for by the government, but we had a list of select tourist hotels in the city. I came armed with a stack of books and a Netflix password.

Immigration meant document sorting again, twice, a temperature check, and an escorted walk to the actual immigration area where… documents were sorted, stamped, questions were asked, and finally we met the typical stamp-your-passport agent. A process that took over an hour – not unusual at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi International, but surprising with only three planes parked at gates.

A hotel representative walked us to the curb where we met the driver from the hotel’s partnered hospital. He asked us to place plastic baggies on our shoes, and despite staying together, the two of us had to sit distanced within a van lit up with decorative welcome lights, like something straight out of Vegas, belying the purpose of our stay.

Rules: you cannot leave the room. All meals from daily set menu options will be delivered to the room on trays; leave the dirty dishes outside the door. Submit photos twice daily via LINE (the Thai messenger app of choice) of your temperature readings (armpit thermometers provided and kept as souvenirs). On Day 5 you receive a COVID test. If negative, you receive a certificate when you leave on Day 7. Like summer camp.

We chose wisely. Montien Riverside Hotel is an older property but well kept. Large rooms show wood floors and crown moldings, and most importantly, a nearly floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the mighty Chao Phraya River with an angle on sunrise. We watched the tide rising and falling, the tugs, barges, and longtail boats casting wakes, and the locals fishing and swimming. From our 24th floor perch we boat- and bird-watched, took time-lapse videos of river traffic and the fading colors in the clouds at sunset, and dined at a small marble table looking at the city under glass.

A Curious Twist

Yet all of this was one part bullet dodged: while we were in the air over the Pacific, Thailand’s third wave (if one counts the first two as anything much more than ripples) compelled the government to increase the quarantine again to fourteen days-even for the vaccinated. Had we landed a few days later, we’d have been subjected to it and the doubled hotel costs. We counted our luck though we would not be allowed our daily strolls in the riverside garden.

All Bangkok restaurants and bars were immediately closed or limited to delivery or pickup. (Ten days later they reopened at 25% capacity.) At the same time, despite current daily infection levels remaining much higher than all of 2020, the Tourism Authority of Thailand (TAT) announced a new “sandbox” plan for Phuket tourism. Starting July 1, vaccination cards or negative COVID tests will grant quarantine-free entry to travelers flying directly (or if direct flights were unavailable, connecting via a quarantined terminal at Suvarnabhumi International) to the popular southern island in the Andaman Sea. TAT expects more than 30,000 tourists monthly. Such is the nature of travel in destinations aggressively adapting to the pandemic.

As for us, we were released for good behavior and took a taxi directly to Krua Apsorn, our favorite restaurant, to pick up a carryout order for Mom.

Keep abreast of current travel guidelines at the Thai embassy’s website.

The post Quarantined in Bangkok! appeared first on The Mad Traveler.

Sawatdee krub! Greetings!

Another one of my favorite dishes from Thailand which I find pretty easy to repeat at home is larb (sometimes transliterated from Thai as laab) Sometimes referred to as a cold meat salad (which sounds less appetizing to me for some reason), larb is a dish from northeastern Thailand, a region known as Isaan. Call it what you may, but I call it sawatdeelicious*.

(*I don’t really call it that; just being cute.)

The meat ingredient is commonly ground pork (larb moo) but can vary. Minced beef, fish, duck, chicken or even liver or beef with a bit of blood.

I’ve had a mushroom larb at Krua Apsorn, a superb family restaurant in Bangkok. But in the end, most versions are likely laab moo (pork).

This recipe goes a bit “grandma style,” as in “a bit of” and “add some” are the measures because this really goes according to taste. But here’s a starting point:

1 lb ground pork
juice of two limes
1 medium shallot, thinly sliced
cilantro and mint leaves
fish sauce (Shrimp brand is a favorite for us here on Amazon but should be cheaper and available at most Asian markets or even good general grocery stores)
2 tbsp of uncooked white rice
1/4-1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes

Ground pork is marinated in a bit (1 tbsp) of lime juice for at least a half hour, and then tossed into a lightly oiled hot wok. (I add a bit of water to help it cook thoroughly as we don’t need to brown it.) Move the pork to a mixing bowl and add 1 tbsp fish sauce (start small and build up to taste), more (1 tbsp to start) lime juice, thinly sliced shallots, a wee bit of cilantro, and the crushed chili pepper.

Toast the rice in a dry frying pan until it gets a nice golden color. Careful, they get hot to handle. Let them cool and then run them through a spice grinder or a whirling blade coffee grinder as I do. It should end up almost a powder, with the largest pieces no bigger than sea salt crystals. Mix that into the bowl and sprinkle some on each serving. Some recipes add a bit of fresh mint at the end as well. The combination of sour lime, salty fish sauce, and spicy pepper give laab its zing but that toasted rice makes a nice difference.

The salad is eaten lukewarm or even room temperature and functions as a main dish or one of many dishes in a group meal. It comes with a wedge of fresh cabbage, and maybe raw green beans to crunch on as you endure the spices. Order it with another Isaan dish: som tam (spicy green papaya salad) and sticky rice.

If you are in Bangkok, a good place to get this little combo is down on Soi Convent near Silom Road at Hai Som Tam. Krua Apsorn does a splendid version with added pieces of straw mushroom.

The post Thai Food Favorites: Laab appeared first on The Mad Traveler.

*Winner of a 2021 PenCraft Award!*

Reviews of Stealing Away: Stories

The post Traveling and Telling Lies appeared first on The Mad Traveler.

Now also available as an e-book for Kindle and Kobo!

Click Book Image to Purchase!

The Yogurt Man Cometh:
Tales of an American Teacher in Turkey

by Kevin Revolinski

Experience a year living in Turkey!
Now in its 5th Printing!

Part travelogue, part memoir, The Yogurt Man Cometh is the story of Revolinski’s year-long adventure as an English teacher in Turkey, with all of its ups and downs and its constant surprises. From his home base working for a private school in Ankara, he relates in remarkably candid style his encounters in a foreign culture: his first experiences as a teacher, forays into classroom discipline, navigation of a new language, attempts at cross-cultural flirtation, explorations of timeless and surreal landscapes, acquisition of a taste for raki and success at making numerous lasting friendships–all told with an open mind and a sense of humor. An enjoyable read for anyone who has spent time in Turkey or who plans to do so; Revolinski’s observations will resonate with those of any outsider who has come to love Turkey and Turkish culture.

Check out audio and video interviews with Kevin Revolinski

Read a sample chapter of The Yogurt Man Cometh

“What do you do with six kilos of unwanted yogurt, and two strange men who want you to pay them an outrageous three million Turkish lira for it? Kevin Revolinski knows, and does it, and lives to tell us all about it and his many other adventures in Turkey. Humorous, insightful, informative and sensitive, this fluently-written memoir gets deep into what makes Turkey the wonderful–if somewhat surprising–place that it is.”

Tom Brosnahan, author of Turkey: Bright Sun, Strong Tea and the original Lonely Planet: Turkey

More from Tom Brosnahan:”When I first read Kevin Revolinski’s wonderful memoir, The Yogurt Man Cometh: Tales of an American Teacher in Turkey, I burst out laughing. It was so much like my own experiences in Turkey that I wondered if I had an alter ego.

“Kevin Revolinski went to Turkey as an English teacher for a year (1997-98), just as I had done thirty years earlier (1967-68). Despite the differences in time, his memoir vividly describes the same place that I grew to know and love, which must testify to the authenticity of Revolinski’s experience.”

“The Yogurt Man Cometh is as entertaining as it is informative – as well as being especially recommended reading for anyone considering embarking upon their own business or recreational trip to Turkey.” Midwest Book Review

“[Revolinski] does a fabulous job of describing his surroundings, working in Turkish phrases, and making me hungry for all of the food he describes. He’s also got a knack with telling details… Undisputedly, though, the best part of the story is Revolinski’s relationships with the children he teaches, many of whom demand to know if he is married, what his favorite futbol team is, and how he is liking Turkey.” Nonfiction Readers Anonymous

“Yogurt Man offers a hilarious firsthand account of life in a foreign country, and Revolinski introduces the reader to a cast of zany, interesting characters.” The Capital Times

“I really enjoy reading memoirs and travelogues by foreigners on the subject of Turkey. Such accounts of social history written from a different perspective enable me to see ourselves as others see us. One such account is the memoirs of Kevin Revolinski.” C. Cem Oguz from Turkish Daily News

________________________________________

Kevin Revolinski’s articles and photography have appeared in a variety of publications including The New York Times, Chicago Tribune, Miami Herald, and Sydney Morning Herald. He is the author of The Wisconsin Beer Guide: A Travel Companion and several other guidebooks and works of short fiction. He lived in Ankara, Turkey in 1997 and 1998 and has traveled back there several times since. He currently lives in Madison, Wisconsin.

From The Capital Times, Madison, Wisconsin, Friday, November 17, 2006
(as featured in “Literary Lunch” by Heather Lee Schroeder)

ENTRÉE: A new hit arriveth

Madison author Kevin Revolinski’s new memoir/travelogue “The Yogurt Man Cometh: Tales of an American Teacher in Turkey” has sold 1,000 copies out of a 2,000-copy press run since its August release. Many of those books were sold in Turkey, but the author says he’s delighted with the book’s reception so far.

Indeed, “Yogurt Man,” which recounts the year the author spent teaching in Turkey, was published there, so it’s not so surprising that he would find an audience in the country.

“Yogurt Man” offers a hilarious firsthand account of life in a foreign country, and Revolinski introduces the reader to a cast of zany, interesting characters.

In a way, the book owes at least a small part of its genesis to Madison. Revolinski made a move from working as a marketing coordinator to a teacher after attending a Michael Feldman show. Revolinski said in a recent telephone interview that he spent the entire show hoping Feldman wouldn’t ask him “What do you do?” because he didn’t want to answer the question.

Not long after that, Revolinski went back to school at Edgewood College and got his teaching certification, which allowed him to get a teaching job in Turkey. “Living somewhere is the best way to travel,” Revolinski said.

Revolinski, who grew up in Marshfield and wrote “The Wisconsin Beer Guide,” said “Yogurt Man” started as e-mails about his experiences to friends and family. People started forwarding the e-mails to their friends, and the author realized he had a small audience of readers who eagerly anticipated his next installment.

Eventually, a friend told Revolinski that he thought there might be a book in the e-mails. “That was the spark that made me think, ‘I have to take this seriously,'” he said.

Despite this support from friends and family and an initial burst of enthusiasm, he found himself dragging his feet on the project. He let the book sit untouched for a year. Then he went back to Turkey and saw his former boss, who pushed him to find a publisher. Revolinski ended up working with Citlembik, an Istanbul-based publishing house run by American expatriates.

In the intervening years since he lived in Turkey, Revolinski has traveled extensively. In 2003 and 2004, he lived in southern Italy in Reggio Calabria, which he describes as “the ugliest city in all of Italy.”

“They rebuilt the city in a not-so-pretty style,” Revolinski said of the city’s revival after a devastating earthquake in the year 1908.

The post A Book About Turkey: The Yogurt Man Cometh appeared first on The Mad Traveler.