#2219: Thursday, January 31: 2 weeks in

Post 2219

- 8 years and 31 days since I started this blog -

  

At Coffee Addict

Journal
(written 1/31/19)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 8 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

I arrived in Chiang Mai two weeks ago. I've been having a great time. Things have settled in quite a bit. I have my routines. I haven't done to much different than the last time (I can't think of anything except the cooking class - a complete success, there), although I've done those same things in a lot of different places. Some things I did last time I won't be doing again. I will, eventually, I assume, do something different and new (other than food stuff).

As I write this, I have been wooed by the Starbucks across the moat, lured away from the usual group of coffee shops I use to write in. I feel guilty, even though the virtues are undeniable: air-conditioning, cost, WiFi speed. Air-conditioning. Oh, and almond-paste croissants, the likes of which I haven't had since Lisbon.

Some things have changed a little in the year since my last visit. I've already mentioned the negatives of Uber's disappearance. Also, the Thai baht has strengthened against the dollar by twenty percent, making things at least that much more expensive.And, while the weather is just as dry and beautiful as on my last trip, which saw no rain at all, it is hotter.

My favorite restaurant, Tikky Café has become so popular I can't get in (I am never in a situation where I want food and I'm willing to wait a half hour or more to order it). The benefit of this is that I've found great restaurants to replace it with. None are better, but they all have some quality which is as good and balance the greatness that are my favorite Tikky dishes.

I have been getting massages on a fairly regular basis for the last ten days, trying different places, all of which charge around eight dollars for an hour, which, accounting for the currency difference is what I paid last year. But my regular masseuse last year was better. Maybe I've spoiled.

The most convenient massage parlor to me is an upscale affair. Yesterday, I broke down and booked a session. It is three dollars more! But, they greet you with a relaxing lavender-colored beverage of some fruit I can't identify, relax you, ritually wash your feet, then give you the best massage you've ever had, followed by a decompressing time with delicious tea and cakes for that low premium.

So now I've found a regular massage place. This is one of the delights of Chiang Mai that is just so... Thai! The Thai are all on board with the benefits of massage. It isn't just a tourist thing, and, while it can be in some places if that's what you want, it isn't a sex thing. There's an art to it, and it is separate from all the Western expectations. There are massage schools teaching this formal technique all over Chiang Mai.

Two weeks of regular walking haven't done anything to counter the gluttony I've been practicing, as far as my weight is concerned - I'm definitely gaining weight. But I have mastered crossing the streets here. No small feat, I assure you.

Because there are few traffic lights, and no pedestrian right-of-way here, crossing the street is the biggest danger I face here. For reference, you have to remember an early computer game called Frogger. In this game, you will remember, the goal is for the frog to cross the street, jumping through four-to-six lanes of traffic going in different directions.

Except for the frog part, crossing the street in Chiang Mai is the same. The traffic never stops, and you have to choose your path to cross without getting hit or causing an accident. Anecdotal evidence suggests that newcomers' failure to negotiate this accounts for the largest number of expat casualties, although I have never seen an accident in Chiang Mai.

Monday night is open mic night at Boy Blues Bar, where, a year ago, it all fell into place for me in Chiang Mai. I played there three times last year. This was my second outing this year. I had seen Boy, the guitarist, singer, show-runner and owner of the bar, in a few other places and he is very friendly.

I get lucky: First, I run into some folks I had met the week before at the CEC breakfast. I had heard they'd accepted my invitation to come out the week before, and hadn't seen them. This time, waiting for the show to begin, we were all a happy family. They introduced me to their friend Cathy, an American who has lived in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, for the last three years.

We hit it off right away. I enlist her to take some photos during my set. Unfortunately, they all leave relatively early, so I get limited pics. But I do get some souvenir video.

Second lucky thing: My friend Oliver, whose birthday party I went to the Saturday before last, and who was guitarist for my gig Sunday, is house guitarist for the open mic. Ollie is a very good guitarist. He is a house band regular at Boy's - and is the very first guitarist I ever played with in Chiang Mai. And, he's a great guy and has been a good friend to me from day one.

Once the jam is ready to start, Ollie is the first one to notice that the bass player hasn't shown up. He suggests to Boy that I fill in, and thus, I end up playing almost the entire night (except for two sets with their own bass players in hand).

It is an awesome, fun night for me. I just love getting the playing time. Ollie and I work well together, and there are no challenging drummers, so the rhythm section is pretty tight all night. Some videos I have of the proceedings suggest we earned the good audience response we got.

I get the closing song, which finishes just after midnight, when most of the SRO crowd has gone. It goes well, so it's a good end to the night, and an auspicious beginning for my birthday.

This is going to be the longest birthday of my life, beginning, as it does, twelve hours earlier than if I were at home. I have to wait about sixteen hours before the back-in-Eastern-North America home team starts getting up on my birthday, there.

I don't have any solid plans, other than to attend the Tuesday night jam at the North Gate Jazz Coop, where I have been promised I will get to lead a song.

I send out a note to the friends I am connected with on Facebook, and we agree to meet at a good Indian place for dinner before the jam at North Gate.

I celebrate my birthday first with some truly excellent food at Goodsouls Kitchen, topped off by what I suspect is the first piece of birthday cake of the day. I end up being wrong about that, it is also the last, but it might have been un-toppable, anyway.

I take a walk around the neighborhood I'm staying in, this time angling toward the other side of old town, where David lives. Along the way there, I stop in to a beautiful, large wat I haven't been before, and, inspired by a row of meditating monks within, I meditate. I've never meditated in a temple (Buddhist or otherwise) before. A birthday first.

When I reach David's we tuk-tuk to dinner together.

Dinner is a boisterous affair, with lots of camaraderie - everybody there, except for David's girl Mai, is a musician - and (but?) it is amazingly non-alcoholic. There is a joke-telling marathon, complete with post-delivery critique. Everyone gets in the act. Lots of laughs!

The food is good, although, due to a full-restaurant and, perhaps, the number of people at our table, the service is not. No matter.

When the meal is over, only Daniel shows any interest in going to North Gate. Harry does agree to drive me up on his motorbike. I want to stop for drinks, but tonight, Harry isn't into drinking (probably an excellent decision, given that he does have to drive back, and isn't planning on staying too long). I get us beers. We stay for a number of songs we both like, and then, having finished his one beer, and hearing a song he doesn't care for, he takes off.

Not too long after the jam starts, I get called up, and lead the band through a jammy version of Bill Withers' Who Is He?. It is a great song for a jam, and all the musicians have fun with it, and it is very well-received by the audience. And it ends cleanly. Next, we back up a woman harp-player on a jump blues, which the audience loves, and I'm done.

I order a third beer. Big mistake, for no reason I understand. I am halfway through it, and my stomach begins feeling queasy. I try making that go away with more beer, but no dice. I'm done for the evening. Without saying goodnight to anybody, I take a right-there tuk-tuk back to my room. The first half of my thirty-six hours of birthday is over.

I wake up yesterday morning feeling great, and energized.

I have an enjoyable breakfast at Coffee Addict. There is a photo-shoot going on near my table, and it makes the lighting perfect for me to take a couple of selfies.

After, I go back to my room, gather up my dirty clothes and bring them to the woman next door who does laundry. She is not around, so I leave the bag there, knowing she will recognize it (and some of the clothes within that she washed last week). I'm not worried about leaving my clothes like this. It just isn't that kind of rip-off scene here.

I take a nap, and only wake up to the alarm I had fortunately remembered to set, and go to the previously-mentioned awesome massage.

Today, I went back to Santitham Breakfast to have the Pig's Organ Soup. It is variably good - the different ingredients have different textures, some I like better than others.

The big surprise is the liver, which is very different-tasting than the chicken and occasional beef liver I've tried before and am more accustomed to eating. It is much milder and has better texture. I can't identify all the different parts, but I can distinguish between them by shape and color, and there's one I taste and pick out to avoid.

But the big reward is the broth, which I slurp shamelessly when I've had my fill of the firmer content. It is amazingly complex and has the meat equivalent of butterscotch smooth flavor, chock full of umami.

After, I stop on my way back to my room at Starbucks, where I'm writing this now, and feeling completely at peace with myself and the Universe.

Life is good, and I am grateful.

Food Comment

At Overstand Coffee Shop: Parmesan eggs with olive tapenade on home-made whole-grain toast with tomatoes salad, smoked salmon and hummus, 

Chocolate-mocha-hazelnut layer cake at Goodsouls Kitchen. My birthday cake!

From Santitham Breakfast: On the left, pork dumplings; on the right, pig organ soup. I like the dumplings better, but the soup was excellent in its own right, even though there were parts I didn't like the texture of.

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#2218: Monday, January 28: Day-to-day stuff, you know?

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Post 2218
- 8 years and 28 days since I started this blog -

  

Harry's pic of me, post-processed.

Journal
(written 1/28/19)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 8 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

As I have stated, I haven't come to Chiang Mai (twice) as a tourist, even if, technically, that's what I am. This is my toe-in-the-water, checking out how my life would be if I lived here. I do this by... living here, day-to-day.

I don't get too far ahead of myself. It's very much a 'what do I feel like doing today' or 'what do I feel like doing now'kind of thing. It is largely un-planned, and unhurried.

I was walking to breakfast, which was on the other side/outside/northbound traffic side of the moat. (I live by the moat that frames the old city in a nearly perfect square). As I approached the first of two crosswalks, there were two young women who crossed before I got there, and then I had to wait for a hole in the traffic, Frogger-style, for a moment or so.

I caught up with them before long - and I thought to myself, "Why am I walking so fast? What, on this gorgeous, sunny day, am I hurrying to get to?".

And I deliberately slowed my roll. I have the luxury of real leisure, and I wasn't taking advantage of it. This was an impactful insight.

On another day, I walked into the Bird's Nest Cafe for my first meal of the day, and saw a young woman wearing a Boy Blues Bar T-shirt identical to the one I have on. She is alone at her table, actively engaged with her phone. As I pass her on my way to the terrace, I say, "I like your shirt." (I know, ever-suave).

She automatically replies, "Thank you." Then she looks up, "No way!" and laughs. After I've eaten, on my way to order another Americano, I ask her if she's going back. She explains that she's headed south in a few days. I say, "I mean, back to Boy's," laughing, and we spend the rest of the afternoon in conversation. There's a nominal amount of self-disclosure, she helps me with some new features on Instagram, and also my iPhone, an exchange of good near-by places to go, a selfie. She leaves open the possibility that she will come to hear me play, but no commitment. I never see her again.

This is the day-to-day. This is cafe society. You have time to take it slow. You can stop and have a conversation with a stranger. you can engage in and savor your life.

It doesn't require travel. Of course, my circumstances are just that: my circumstances. I am lucky. I am privileged. No matter how I got to this place, I never forget how lucky I am, how little my life prepared me for my good fortune at this 'Third Stage'. What I am comfortable doing has nothing to do with what other people are comfortable with. What works for me is difficult, if not impossible, to generalize.

I am an optimist. I have assessed my life and found that every negative thing that has happened to me has led me to a more positive place, right up to that moving target, Now.

I am not without pain. I have not totally freed myself from want. I have learned to live with and accept that not everything is know-able, that I don't need all the answers. I have doubts, and I've learned to be happy even when they're unresolved.

As best I'm able, I have no expectations, or, more typically few and low expectations. I forgive myself when I fuck up.

And, once I settle in, which I feel like I have here, there are few differences between being in Chiang Mai and Syracuse. The novelty isn't in what I am doing, but that the place I'm doing them in is so exotic. And that I eat every meal in a restaurant - at home, I average less than two restaurant meals a week.

In the main, though, eating, sleeping going out and seeing people and making music - that's just what I do.

Disruptions of the day-to-day generally involve events: birthdays, weddings, reunions, shows. A lot of these involve traveling to other places, and that is something I've never been reluctant to do.

Chiang Mai doesn't seem like an event to me. The only schedule I'm beholden to involves airlines (flight in, flight out), and playing opportunities, which are not mandatory.

So here are some other things that happened the last few days - mostly same old, same old, except:.

I found a pretty little restaurant, Fern Forest Cafe that I enjoyed being in, but wasn't crazy about the food, or the very American theme. Although, throughout my meal, I had the company of a pretty bird on the seatback opposite me. Anyway, the overall failure of Fern Forest Cafe led me to find a restaurant next door that I really like, Goodsouls. Believe it or not, these two restaurants are my first Chiang Mai experience of restaurants catering to expats. Most restaurants just accommodate expats, not the same thing.

The envfironment at Fern Forest Cafe

My dining companion at Fern Forest Cafe

The overall failure of Fern Forest Cafe led me to find a restaurant right next door to it that I really like, Goodsouls. Believe it or not, these two restaurants are my first Chiang Mai experience of restaurants catering to expats. Most restaurants just accommodate expats, not the same thing.

Goodsouls is an organic vegan restaurant that would be a great restaurant wherever it was located. Having an all-day breakfast menu that includes vegan adaptations of American dishes, but is primarily Thai (ownership and staff, as well) with local-sourced ingredients, and the parts of the menu that I've tasted have incuded a few things that are all-time favorites now, and that are, at least as far as my limited experience informs me, exclusive.

I've been roaming the neighborhood on my way to discovering new places to eat, or walking 'crosstown' to David's neighborhood, something accomplished in under twenty-five minutes.

I've become very taken with two beautiful and uncrowded wots (Buddhist temples). One is practically next door and on the way to almost all the good new local places I've found. The other is only a little farther away, and on the way to these same restaurants, and also on the way to David's.

Wat Pa Prao Nat, right around the corner!

Wat Dab Pai

Wat Dab Pai

There is one irksome problem with where I'm staying. I cannot get a cab or hail a tuk-tuk at my current location. The Grab-taxi cab-hailing app, which replaced Uber, has really been a letdown. I don't know the underlying reason, but I can almost never find cabs available to pick me up from the vicinity of where I'm staying. And, also for reasons I don't get, available tuk-tuks are scarce. I've waited for one or the other to come get me for upwards of twenty-five minutes - on the great majority of occasions now, so now I have to leave a half-hour earlier to get to any place on time.

But I digress. Sadly (because I actually based my airBnB search around its location), Tikky Cafe has become so popular that after the first time (right before closing) that I ate there, the wait to get in, and the pressure to turn over tables so great they preclude leisurely hanging out, writing, which is what I loved to do last year, that I haven't gotten to eat there a second time, yet.

The Bird's Nest and Goodsouls have replaced Tikky. The former, clearly not as good, food-wise, is still very, very good. In a different way, Goodsouls is every bit as good a place to eat and hang out, though. Both are more expensive, Goodsouls being much more so. I think all Thai restaurants over-deliver for the price, whatever it is, though. Still, I find myself dropping what last year would have bough all my meals for the day in one stop at Goodsouls. Still cheap. And Goodsouls has the best coffee I've ever had in Thailand.
a
I had a couple of wonderful encounters. First, I was hanging out with David, and Daniel came over. Daniel is a guitarist I met on last year's visit. He and David have been in a band together, one specializing in Daniel's passion: Gypsy guitar. Daniel is a great guy and an amazing guitarist. When Jean Marc, a world-class and, I guess 'famous' gypsy guitarist came to an open mic on my first day in Thailand, he and Daniel played spectacularly together, and I was beyond thrilled to be present for that event, which was so purely chance and luck.

I ended up having some one-on-one time with Daniel and a couple of guitars. I got a free guitar lesson. Henceforth, although I will still suck, I will suck a little less. Actually, I am going t5o have to spend time in the shed on everything he taught me to be able to use any of it, but I feel just playing along with him, and the knowledge he communicated not directly related to showing me new chords will enhance me going forward.

I'm really grateful for Daniel's generosity (and tenacity in believing I can do better with him).

The next night, I had dinner with another friend I met in Chiang Mai last year. I hadn't really known that much about Harry, other than that he seemed like a nice guy from the first time I met him, he was a long-time friend of one of my favorite new friends I made on last year's trip, and he was a good guitarist.

We met at a Mexican restaurant around the corner from David's, I ordered a pitcher of margaritas. We decided to order two burritos and trade halves. And started talking. The conversation went wide and deep. There were a lot of laughs. I was certainly alcoholically well-lubricated. Harry is a really interesting guy, an adventurer, a musician, a curator of antiquities, an entrepreneur. I had a great time over the four hours we hung out. Harry took a picture.

Harry's pic of me, unprocessed.

Next up I had a gig at the Cha Cha Bar, being house bass at an open mic. This is a fun place out by the airport. I had breakfast in two parts, at Goodsouls before my walk to David's, and at The Hideout, after it - the Hideout is right around the corner from David's place. David was loaning me a bass for that gig, and I had to pick it up there, and I allowed enough time for my walk and breakfasts, as well.

My role in the open mic ended up not being what I expected, in that none of the acts that played beyond the ones I had arranged for when I got the gig needed a bass player. On the other hand, I got t5o play with long-lost friend Jubal. who was the very first musician I spoke 5o in Chiang Mai - and then, due to his schedule and circumstances, never saw again - until today. Jubal is an excellent drummer, one of the best I played with in Chiang Mai.

Still, I maxed out the fun on those two sets, and then got to sit in with Daniel and John at the very end. Did I have fun? If you have to ask, you don't know me.

I had drunk and eaten my pay, and I needed to go home and rest. For once, Grab provided a cab, and fairly quickly, too (after only two tries). I got back t6o my airBnB and took a nap.

I wake up with the options of an open mic and a gypsy band concert with Daniel, David and Jubal. Of course, I elect to try and do both.

After another long and frustrating wait for Grab, I finally find a tuk-tuk to deliver me to the open mic. I don't see much going on there, and make the ten-minute walk, in a vibrant, colorful part of Chiang Mai I know about but never been before, to El Patio.

El Patio is a Spanish wine bar/restaurant, whose restaurant business closes before the music starts. Not coincidentally, I think, it is the first place recommended to me by the woman in the Goy Blues Bar T-shirt I met at the Bird's Nest a few days ago.

The owner is a fun, affable Brit, who makes me feel immediately at home. The music is great! In addition to my friends, there's acquaintance John (from the set I did with Daniel earlier that afternoon) on guitar, and a clarinet player whose name I never got, but whose addition added a nice layer of warm instrumental variety to what is otherwise a guitar band. What a wonderful night it was. Great to hang with and appreciate friends. I got to play bass for a few songs (another lesson from Daniel) and totally exhausted myself.

Daniel's Gypsy Jazz Band (l-r): Unknown clarinetist, Charlie, Jubal, Daniel, David.

Charlie gives me a ride home. He is the only person I know in Chiang Mai who has a car. 

When I get to my room, sleep comes quickly. I have a lot to be grateful for.

Food Comment

American breakfast at Fern Forest Cafe: French toast, bacon, scrambled eggs, salad, mixed berries smoothie.

Papaya salad, seafood rice at Tikky Cafe. So far, still my favorite papaya salad in Chiang Mai.

Breakfast Noodle Soup, in a bowl as big as my head, at Goodsouls.

Vegetarian sandwich (with cheese and avocado) on (fresh) baguette with a mango-pineapple smoothie, at the Hideout.

At Goodsouls: Beetburger (beets and chick peas and spices) - this was so good! The cup top right used to have Golden Tea, a mix of turmeric tea, ginger, cinnamon, coconut and herbs and spices - which I love at this place, and can't find anywhere else (although that may be entirely on me).

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#2217: Wednesday, January 23: Boy Blues Club and a cooking class

Post 2217

- 8 years and 23 days since I started this blog -

  

Journal
(written 1/23/19)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 8 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

I've removed the request to leave a comment at the top of the posts, since more than a few people have trouble, due to the software, in doing so - and I sensed some kind of guilt about it. In compensation, as a reward for reading my blog, I'm going to give you some insights that (probably) won't appear on Facebook and (definitely not on) Instagram.

First, a reminder, which I posted at one point last year: You are not getting the whole story here. There are things I'm not comfortable discussing in a public forum. There are things I self-edit, as uninteresting or unnecessary. Yes, you get the story I want to tell, possibly without the full context.

A lot of people compliment my photographs. You should know that they are not meant to be documentary. They are always impressionistic. Here's the story on that, untold to anyone until now.

I edit every photograph I take. At a minimum, I crop for composition or clarity. While I compose each shot when I take it, I will sometimes leave extra room to correct5 when I can't exclude extraneous stuff real-time. Very, very few of the pictures I share escape the knife.

Last year, when I first came to Thailand, I brought a Windows computer (hated it - I've grown completely used to the Apple universe of common apps). I wasn't particularly happy with the photo editors I put on it (that's on me, I cheaped out and got free and ultra low-cost software that I had on hand). On my first day there, by cosmic coincidence, there was an upgrade to Camera+, my on-phone editor of choice. This upgrade brought with it a new, single editing control, AI Clarity, which itself had only two adjustments: the AI, and Vibrance.

Virtually every shot I've made with my iPhone while traveling gets this single editing filter. To a degree, this is where the super-saturated colors in my photos come from, the subject typically colorful to begin with. Why? Because this is how I see the world, or, how I want to see the world. I have always been attracted to bright, contrasting colors.

So, there you have it - that's my entire course on phone photography: crop your pictures, make them suit your vision.

Now, back to recent events here in Chiang Mai.

Counting the day I arrived (which should be counted: It was awesome), today, as I write this makes a week in Chiang Mai. I have three weeks and five days left - yes, I'm counting. Actually, one of the reasons I'm counting is to keep tabs on my expenses, and compare them to the budget I allow myself. Chiang Mai is cheap - but a year later, it has gotten more expensive. I, on the other hand, don't have more money.

This is not a burden, nor have I budgeted myself into having jto .

Monday, I spent my daytime in a nearby cafe writing a blog post. I liked its name: The Coffee Addict. The food was good and the coffee excellent.

The whole thing about Monday, for me, is that it is open mic night at Boy Blues Club.

This is where, a year ago, I connected with the Chiang Mai music community. I had already run into Boy my first night in town. As I was going into the Siam Tulip, he was leafing to go to work at the club. He recognized me, or pretended to - hard to know, no matter, I reintroduced myself, just in case. Big smiles, and he was gone.

The club was packed. A few people I had seen over the last few days were there, in particular, Roddie, the trumpet player I had befriended at the birthday party Saturday night. We hung out together.

I was called up early, and allowed to stay three sets, although not given a chance to lead. Still, I believe I acquitted myself well, and when it was time to go and Boy announced me, I got applause, and everybody I'd played with came over and shook my hand.

The hosts of the Siam Tulip jam were there, and asked if I'd like to be house bass for a jam Sunday afternoon. I texted David, who told me he had bowed out of the gig, but had no problem lending me his bass for that, and so I nearly immediately agreed. Life is good.

One problem with Boy's: They serve beer and drinks, but they don't have a toilet - you have to use the ones in the Kalare Night Market below. Which isn't really a problem, they are well-marked and close by. But, when I finished my business, I decided to go back to my room, sensing the repeat of a problem I'd been having with Grab, the local taxi-hailing app that had supplanted Uber in Chiang Mai.

This bit of vexation is that I have to resubmit my booking request many times before the app finds me a cab. The app unhelpfully informs me that there are no cabs available, but if I were somewhere else, there might be. In the past, it has taken me upwards of twenty minutes of constantly resubmitting my booking before a drive accepted.

I was right, although I didn't want to be. Consequently, I decided to take one of the readily available tuk-tuks, which I don't prefer because they're (slightly) more expensive and (much) less comfortable.

But they get the job done when Grab lets me down.

For Tuesday morning, I had booked a Thai cooking class. I'd been advised, last year, to do this - not for the new cooking skills involved, but for the insight I'd get into Thai food.

In that, I was definitely satisfied. I was picked up on time, by a van bringing one coterie of students, mostly couples, and a couple of pairs of friends.

We were taken to the school, near the old market (where the Thai shop for stuff), introduced to our English-speaking Thai teacher, Kat, given aprons, and participated in a traditional welcoming snack after we all introduced ourselves. There were Brits, Germans, Chinese, French, Californians and me.

Then, with some help and explanation from the teacher, we selected the menu we would prepare. Because I was in the morning half-day class, I wouldn't get to prepare a papaya salad, which I had been looking forward to. But I would get to prepare my favorite, khao soi, a dish I tried for the first time and fell in love with last year.

We will all be making spring rolls, a soup (tom yun in my case) and a curry (khoa soi, me), which would involve also making a dish-matching chili paste.

We were given aprons and towels, then hats, and taken for a short walk to the nearby market. At the market, Kat introduced us to the different kinds of rice, noodles, and dry spices, describing the differences in preparation between the different types of rice and noodles, and explaining the important differences between them and how that affected their usage.

She demonstrated how coconut cream was made, and how it sometimes needed to be diluted, making coconut milk.

We were given a few minutes to wander about on our own, and then we were very efficiently rounded up for the walk back, and I realized why we had the hats - they were for easy identification.

When we were back at the cooking school, we were led to the herb and vegetable garden from which all the non-dry herbs and vegetables we were using were gotten. Every single thing was described and samples to taste or smell of each were handed around. At this point, I admit something went wrong - something I tasted or smelled gave me a hysterine reaction, and my nose started running. There were so many things - none completely new to me - I have no idea what did it.

But it wasn't a big problem. The Thai, I knew from last year, used toilet-paper consistency napkins. I took a bunch, and kept my nose clean the rest of the class. No problem.

The first thing we made was vegetable spring rolls. We were given a nine-inch square wheat-based wrapper and the fillings. We were shown how to roll them up. I instantly recognized a similarity to rolling a good joint, and my immediate result was praised by the teacher and given admiring comments from the other classmates. When I looked around at the variety of the students, I felt I should explain. "It's like rolling a joint," I said, with a smile. My comment was met with silence. Only the teacher laughed, presumably to be polite. Oh, well.

I deep-fried my spring roll - perfectly done, easily - and it was delicious.

Next, we were separated into three teams, and given the raw ingredients (in the right quantities) to make chili paste. This involved the heaviest mortar and pestle I'd ever used (when it was my turn - my three-person team took turns at the labor, with ingredient-chopping for the two not grinding.\

We then circulated around the prep table to smell - and, for the brave, to taste - each different paste. Two of the pastes were divided in half, with ingredients added for the specific curry they'd be used in, for a total of five pastes. I can testify that every single one was excellent (yes, I was one of the mad tasters).

We then prepped the ingredients for the soup, but didn't immediately use them - instead, we were back at the woks to cook up our curries. I think this was my favorite part. I especially liked the way the teacher helped us adjust the balance of the different tastes, so that it came out exactly to our individual liking. In this matter, at least, I made myself some of the best khao soi I had yet eaten in Chiang Mai. Right here, I felt the class went beyond my expectations.

The soup was pretty easy - it was simply a matter of adding the ingredients to the boiling water in the right order (chilis, dry ingredients, chicken, vegetables, and noodles, reserving some a lime section and crisp-fried noodles for adding to the bowl at the end).

Time to eat. I'm not particularly thrilled with the soup - almost all the Thai soups I've had suffer from the problem that the un-chewable flavoring ingredients are not separated after cooking. Thai people have no problem with this; I do. It isn't my preparation that is at fault, though. I try my best to pick out the chicken and mushrooms, and drink the broth. That part is definitely good, picking the inedibles that inevitably end up in my mouth, not so much.

But the khao soi is another story. I like it better than any other I've tasted, which probably means it wouldn't work for your average Thai, but there it is - the best-balanced version of the dish I've ever had. I won't stop ordering it at restaurants, buy my enjoyment will forever be informed by the version I made for myself. The class is over, we are given cookbooks that come very close to covering the exact course I've just had, and I'm driven back to my room.

David sends me a text reminding me that Tuesday night is open mic night at the North Gate Jazz Co-op. He isn't going because he has a gig at Boy's in Chart's band - Chart being one of the guitarist's I gigged with at Annie's Sunday night. I go over to David's, proud of myself for finding my way to his place without getting lost for the first time ever.

His gig starts earlier than the open mic at the North Gate, so I decide to ride down with him and hang on an 'off-night' at Boy's, something I haven't experienced before, only going there one time that didn't involve the uber-popular open mic.

Chart is there, I haven't seen him in a leader role, and while he plays blues standards, his phrasing on the vocals, and his guitar work in general, are much more creative than other cover bands I've heard doing similar stuff in Chiang Mai.

I'm hungry for dinner by nine o'clock, and, after sending my appreciation to the band, go downstairs to the famous food court at the night market. There's an absolute amazing variety of foods from various geographies and specialties. I decide on eggs with seafood, attracted by the promise of squid, octopus, oysters and fish all in a single dish. Mostly good, but some of the octopus is a little chewy. Ate it all, nonetheless. I don't waste protein, LOL.

About 1/3 of the food court at Kalare Night Market.

The display in front of the stall I got dinner from.

Once again, Grab fails to deliver a cab, and I get a particularly foul tuk-tuk, the motor is noisy and I feel like I'm breathing exhaust until we really get moving. But I am very efficiently delivered to the club, which is so over-filled that the audience spills outside into the street. I make my way inside to sign up, and stand around for the end of the house band set (excellent, by the way), when a slight between acts pause opens up a seat.

Soon enough, I'm called to the stage. Weirdly, everybody sits on their hands while a pan drum player does a long solo bit. He's interrupted by the drummer, impatiently tries to play along, but it's not good - the pan player (who, by the way, is fabulous) stops, turns around, and tells the drummer not to play until he has finished. Awkward. At the end of the solo, the band leader leads everyone into a funky riff in the pan's key (C-minor - really), but the pan player just packs up and leaves. 

We jam and the audience is digging it, I'm in the pocket with the drummer. Then a singer is called up and and she wants to do Stevie Wonder's 4th of July, which I can approximate. It also turns out well. Then, unaccountably, whe wants to do an AC/DC song I've never heard of (I'm not big on that era/kind of rock). So, the leader asks me to hand back the bass to the house bass player. I acquiesce, only to find out that they've switched songs to 'What's Up?' a song I could have definitely played. I get to talk about that with the open mic leader, who asks me to come back, and promises a better session.

I walk back to my room, almost alone on the streets for fifteen minutes, and reflect on how safe I feel here. I'm not taking this for granted, although insecurity walking alone late at night is something I've really only felt in the US. And, I admit, I may be naive. Nonetheless, there are no incidents.

I'm back, still grateful for all my experiences today, and for the amazing time I'm having - really for the amazing life I have. But my nose is still running.

Food Comment

At The Coffee Addict: Eggs on toast with mushrooms and tomatoes.

At The Coffee Addict: Tom sun kyang.

Spring roll I made at Asian Scenic Thai Cooking School.

Kao Soui and Tom yun soup I made at Asian Scenic Thai Cooking School.

Seafood (oysters, fish, squid, octopus) and eggs at Kalarre Night Market.

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#2216: Monday, January 21: A party and a gig

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Post 2216
- 8 years and 21 days since I started this blog -

  

Journal
(written 1/19/19)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 8 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

Last time out, I left you having just gotten an invitation to a party while finishing up breakfast.

That was quite an event. It was a gathering of musicians, and the first time I've been to one of the prevalent gated communities where expats tend to live in Chiang Mai. This was south of the old city, whereas most of the expats I met at Chiang Mai Expats Club - predominantly British - live in the more upscale area northwest of the walled city.

Anyway, I had my first brush with the downside of the loss of Uber. I couldn't get a cab. At least, not right away. Grab kept on telling me there were none available. This was, except for my ride to the airport, the longest cab ride yet, and I simply had to keep requesting - for fifteen minutes - until someone relented. This happened again twice the next night. At one point, I just took a tuk-tuk, at approximately twice the cost, with less comfort.

So now the setting was suburban, very non-Thai. No matter. The vibe was great, everybody was there for a good time. Nearly everybody I had met in Chiang Mai was there, along with a few new people to connect with.

The pot luck provided excellent food, filling a dining table with savory dishes, so a separate space had to be found for the desserts. I must say, these expats can cook - and bake.

It wasn't too long before the musicians started swapping war stories. I especially liked a British trumpet player, Roddie, who had played for all the major studios in England, and had also played for a bunch of American acts, including sessions for Stax. I got to air my appreciation for George Martin, which, as it turns out, he agreed with, while we both praised the Beatles for what they became working with him. My new best friend, lol.

But then the playing started up, and I got on bass for a good while. It was a fun jam, not really any kind of blowing session: all sing-alongs, and everybody having a good time (lots of phones out for lyrics, a few for chords). At one point, there were five guitarists and a conga and me on bass. After a while, I gave up the bass to friend David, and played conga for a bit. Then switched to guitar.

And then it was David on bass, me on guitar, and Daniel - the gypsy guitarist from my first night at the Siam Tulip - as things wound down, and it was requested that things move indoors because of the hour. Daniel resisted - he wanted to show me some some chords to his gypsy songs.

Playing with him was amazing. I had to up my game considerably, and we managed to do some pretty good stuff. At the end, I couldn't stop thanking him. He had instantly upped my guitar game (still pretty weak, but now less so).

The party broke up at around midnight, I left a little later, walking up the road where he taxi took fifteen minutes to get to me, even though, according to Grab, he started five minutes away.

I found myself on a mission to find a good local restaurant on Sunday morning, to replace the temporarily closed Tikky Cafe, and came up with one less than a fifteen minute walk away - a Thai-Japanese coffee shop with American-style breakfast specials.

Chiang Mai's old town is a mile-and-a-quarter-per-side square. That square is surrounded by a wall and a moat. These were built around the 13th-to-14th centuries, and wrecked by an earthquake in the 19th Century.  The moats have been attractively restored, but most of the wall has not, although there is work going on. This year, I am staying inside the walls, in the Northwest corner.

It was a beautiful day for a walk. I enjoyed walking along the moat, and when I got to the corner, I took some pics.

My selection turned out to be a major stroke of good fortune - the food was delicious. I couldn't stop tasting stuff, and, even though the food was cheap, managed to run up a nice bill thanks to the variety of food I ordered.

I walk back to my room, only to realize I had to walk back to do some shopping for a few items I needed - shampoo and body wash (I didn't like the soap provided by the airBnB), hair ties (forgotten) and an extension chord.

Originally, I had planned on going to one of the markets, but today I wasn't into cabbing to the other side or town to safe a few bucks that would probably be less than the cab ride. And I was close to a mall, and I hadn't ever been to a Thai mall before. So...

The mall was four stories up and one down. One floor was dedicated to electronics. The top floor was a movie theater. In the court in the middle was one of the nicest children's playgrounds I'd ever seen.

I kept hearing a lot of screaming and applause, which I followed to find there were auditions going on for Thai Star Search. There were hundreds of teens, all dressed up, some in traditional costumes, some in gowns, some were in groups. The talent was variable, and I was puzzled if this was some junior version - all the performers seemed to be high-school age.

So my interest wasn't held for long.

While I was there, I visited a few interesting shops - a hi-fi store, a music store with an interesting selection of guitars, basses and amps. A few American names, but I think there were actually a lot of counterfeits.

The Thai retail mall concept is interesting as well. The sellers are, for the most part, dedicated to one specific type of goods. I found my hair ties at a shop thatI was led to by a worker in a drug store nearby - who led me out of the store to her.  like the friendliness and service. I couldn't find a hardware store for the extension cord, but at one of the customer service counters, they knew which store had some - a Tops, that had a household section including light bulbs and a few bathroom fixtures.

As I was walking back from the mall, David messaged me a song list, asking if I could cover these - which I easily could. He said he had a gig for me that night if I was interested. He had played with this group previously, but couldn't - he had a better gig that night. He said he would lend me a bass for it.

Of course, I said yes.

And so, later that evening, after my first meh meal ever in Chiang Mai, I got to David's. Well, specifically, I got to Miguel's Restaurant, because the tuk-tuk driver couldn't find his place, and I knew that David always said to meet him at Miguel's - the nearest landmark to his place and a number of clubs and restaurants I frequented last year.

And so I found myself, a half hour or so later, behind David's girlfriend Mai, scootering to the club with a bass on my back. It has been forty-five years, at least, since I rode bitch on any kind of bike, and it was... thrilling. Not nearly as scary as I'd anticipated.

It turned out, the band is Trevor's, the owner of Annie's Guest House and Bar. He sings and has a band to back him up. I couldn't place his English accent - he laughed telling me East London. Trainspotting (Guy Ritchie) territory, I didn't mention.

As the other members arrived, I got a definite sense of wariness of the new guy. Would I be up to the gig? They hadn't met me before, so, to them, it was an unknown. I did my best to set them at ease, but it wasn't going to happen until I proved myself playing.

Which happened pretty fast. Wanting to test my mettle, the main guitarist asked me to pick out a song we could do instrumentally to open the show. I suggested 'The Thrill Is Gone' we agreed to play it in the standard B-minor key, and, when the audience loved it, the night was all smiles from then on.

At the end of the gig, Trevor came to say to me, I can pay you with money or a drink. Without hesitation I replied, firmly, "Pay me both. Please."

That cracked everybody up. But he did. Miniscule money - about eleven dollars - but great in that I expected to always play for free, and it covered my tuk-tuk and my extension cord.

I spent the next half hour in the nearby Sunday Walking Street Night Market, and that was, as always (I went three times last trip), but it was late and basically over. Amazingly, even as it shut down, there was still plenty to see and eat. I wasn't really that hungry, but bought a small bag of crisp-fried crickets for about fifty cents. It was better than the last time I ate crickets (at an ice cream store in LA, that's another story), this time mostly like eating a savory crisp rice cracker).

And then, a long struggle to get a cab later, I was on my way back to my room.

Happy and grateful, I was expecting, and actually got, a good night's sleep.

Food Comment

At Santitham Breakfast: Fried pork dumplings.

At Santitham Breakfast: Omelet with the works.

At Santitham Breakfast: Chilled coconut milk out of a chilled coconut.

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