Culinary Misadventures

What’s one of the good things you remember from a trip abroad? Food, of course! What and where you ate (and yes, with whom you ate), especially if it’s belly good, will long linger in the memory (and the taste buds?). They say that travels can broaden your horizons, but more than that, they can broaden your waistline, too. Remember coming home from a trip to the US with a lot of excess weight? And we’re not referring to your luggage, but to the extra poundage you’ve packed in from all the gourmandizing you did.

I remember having been part of the second batch of Filipino journalists to join an inaugural flight of Philippine Airlines to Beijing. On the plane, we were already thinking of what we would eat – or what culinary (mis)adventures awaited us. We thought that if Chinese food was good in Manila, it surely must be better where it came from. Of course, our very generous Chinese hosts did not disappoint. We stuffed ourselves with food, glorious Chinese food, everywhere our hosts took us. But between burps, we noticed that the food was nothing like what we usually ate in Chinese restaurants back home. So somebody in the group asked, "Where’s your Chinatown? Do you have Chinese restaurants here?" Our Chinese hosts could only smile, their eyes disappearing into slits.

Then, with our mouths starting to water, we asked, "Don’t you have pancit Canton or lumpiang Shanghai?" Our hosts could only answer with a puzzled look on their faces. They were even more puzzled when somebody asked if the style of cooking in the then People’s Republic of China was similar to lutong Macao.

On the eve of our departure, our hosts tendered a farewell dinner for us. And guess what they served? Pancit Canton and lumpiang Shanghai! Platters and platters of them! We found out later that the Chinese cooks in our hotel asked somebody in the group for the recipes of these two dishes and just how they were done in the Philippines. Now, that’s what you call personalized service. But nothing beats calling up the front desk of your hotel in China to ask for a wake-up call and then finding someone in your room the next morning, tapping you on the shoulder and whispering into your ear, "Wake up!"

Of course, our trip to Peking wouldn’t have been complete without a food trip at a Peking duck restaurant. We had our fill of this delicacy – believe it or not, there was duck in everything we ate, from soup to main dish to dessert. For our entree, we feasted on roasted duck meat with strips of crispy skin topped with scallions and sauce and wrapped in thin pancakes (some had a terrific, cholesterolific time eating just the skin). We left the restaurant merrily quacking. We all agreed that the Peking duck in Peking tasted better than what we had eaten back home. Which made a smart aleck in the group quip, "Maybe what we have in Manila is not Peking duck but Pateros duck."

Perhaps our hosts were just too happy that we didn’t order hopia (and expect to hear them say, "Hopia like it!") or buchi.

Incidentally, a friend of a friend of a friend just got back from Taiwan and he was raving about how big the Chinatown there was.

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A friend went to Paris. She didn’t speak French and didn’t know anything French except perhaps French kissing. She went to a restaurant (that she thought was probably French, too) and ordered French bread. She would have ordered French fries, too, but she was afraid the waiter might take a French leave.

Now, she knows better than to go looking for French bread in France or Spanish bread in Spain; or look for Chinese restaurants in China, Japanese restaurants in Japan, Spanish restaurants in Spain or Italian restaurants in Italy. Or to stretch the issue further, to look for Px goods in the US or buy Hawaiian shirts in Hawaii.

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For us, the best Buffalo wings can be had not in Buffalo but in Detroit where you can enjoy it at a restaurant in the airport just before you fly back home.

We swear we tasted the best Danish in Denmark. Such great Danes! They certainly know the doughs and don’ts of the business. But all we got was a sour look when we tried ordering Danish pastries in a bakery we went to.

Yes, the English muffins are great in England. And the English drink a lot of English tea. But take this friendly reminder: Don’t look for the London Bridge in London. It’s been transferred, piece by precious piece to Arizona, USA.

Don’t go pining for American pie in America. Or Baked Alaska in Alaska.

Don’t look for Vienna sausage in Vienna or German frankfurters in Germany. Also, don’t be afraid of catching German measles in Germany.

A jet setter friend is happy to note that there’s plenty of Australian beef in Australia – and it’s free of mad cow disease, too! She’s delighted to report, too, that they’ve got a lot of Swiss cheese and Swiss chocolates in Switzerland, Brussels sprouts in Brussels, and Belgian chocolates in Belgium.

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Ever wondered if people in Kentucky, USA ate a lot of Kentucky fried chicken? If they drank a lot of Irish coffee in Ireland? If the island people of Java can’t live without their cup of java? Or if the people in Holland always go Dutch (what we commonly refer to as Dutch treat or KKB, as in kanya-kanyang bayad) when they eat out?

Now, that’s food for thought, don’t you think?