Cambodian cuisine surprise, and other tidbits

Expect to eat rice in Cambodia. It is the world's 9th largest exporter, by value.

This post is dedicated to Darlene Burt and Peggy Sikorski, two ladies who have made a little difference in the lives of children this year. Darlene is an ongoing sponsor of The Shoe That Grows; Peggy just donated funds for more One World Futbols which I will pack on some future trip to places they are needed.

This posting is also dedicated to Janie Ballard and Shirley Ganse, two ballroom dance friends, who recently visited Italy to study Italian cuisine. That inspired me to including in this posting my experience with Cambodian cuisine, immediately below, before I post some final photos.

My most memorable Cambodian cuisine experience

For group meals, I would join my friend, Jay, with several Cambodian associates, who naturally were accustomed to the fare. So I'm guessing that mention on the menu of ant eggs as a garnish to a dish would be perfectly natural for them, but it seemed rather exotic to me.

Frankenfish is delicious

 Some of the exotic items I tried in Cambodia were quite delicious -- snakehead fish, for example. In America, the snakehead is giving fish and game officials nightmares. It's called the "Frankenfish" for it's voracious appetite, as well as its ability to breathe air and cross land from one water body to another. And there it was, soaking in the bowl on our table along with several other mysteries of the deep -- and the land.

But it's quite tasty, actually, if you don't mind the bones -- and there are a lot of them. If they weren't such a threat to other fish, snakehead would be a cheap, delicious source of protein for Americans.

The utility of chicken bones

Before I encountered my "cuisine surprise," I found myself having trouble adjusting to food that Cambodians seem to love: tripe, for example, or the little item that looked like a tiny bow tie with wings and turned out to be chicken liver. And that round dark morsel I had placed on my plate? Chicken stomach. I deal with a lot of these things by hiding them under the pile of chicken bones on my plate so as not to insult the host. And I ate a lot of chicken. Yes, it's a fowl meal (sorry, couldn't help myself) but normally it's pretty safe. Normally.

The indelible, angry glare

There was one particular chicken item that will be indelibly etched in my memory. It happened at  one meal attended by several Cambodian officials. Kind of important guys, I think. I teased a large round, very dark piece of bone and protein out of a bowl and onto my plate. When I spooned it up, I couldn't tell how to separate flesh from bone, and I moved in to give it a really close look to see what that pointy thing was on one side of the morsel. It was when it was about three inches from my face that I realized the item on my spoon had an eye that was glaring up at me, and it was not pleased.

It was at that precise moment that I shrieked (in an almost subdued, manly way) and the chicken head took flight from my spoon, landing in a tiny bowl of fish sauce. No-one at the table batted an eye or even looked up -- the kind of gracious audience you wished for that time you accidentally farted loudly in church.

Ok, now for the photos. Let's think about food a little more. . .

The Banyan Tree restaurant  on the road to Phnom Penh caters to tourists--very "Americanized."

It's easy to see the cashews and the chicken. No question that it's rice. the Veggies are familiar.

The menu board is user friendly.

View from the bus

To visit Angkor Wat, I traveled from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap. A 6-hour, $15-$18 ride in an air-conditioned bus with WiFi. It provided an opportunity to see the countryside, and to snap photos from the window.

Cambodian buses can be very comfortable.

It was Sunday, and folks were shopping at a sort of strip mall enroute from Siem Reap.

This is a reminder that there's a lot of water in Cambodia.

Other means of transportation in Cambodia

Tooks are everywhere. This is a mid-sized, perhaps large enough to justify that roof.

I never saw a bike in Cambodia with a cross bar. All bikes are "girls" bikes.

View from the tuk tuk, a sort of motorized rickshaw

My Siem Reap tuk tuk driver from the bus station to my hotel.

This was my $20-per-night hotel room in Phnom Penh

An armoire, small fridge, writing table, TV, WiFi, and a wide double bed.

On the left, put your room key in a slot and the lights come on. The bathroom is the shower.

A few more temple photos, starting with Angkor Wat

Religious perspective: Many Cambodians keep a small shrine like the one at the right at the entry way to their homes, to keep evil spirits away. But what about the images below -- one a linga too big for three men to hoist, and the other a Buddha with a protective serpent guarding its back? It's like an enormous phallic symbol next to a crucifix. Forgive me, but I find this fascinating. I ask your forgiveness, because "fascinate" is related to "fascina," phallic symbols which were amulets carried by young Roman boys and soldiers as protection against the evil eye. That's right, those Roman statues and images of penises were involved in navigation, fertility, directional indication, protection, luck and prosperity. Fascina were fashioned into wind chimes to protect and grant fortune to homes. So maybe a linga works  like a crucifix.

At left, a lingua that three men couldn't lift. At right, a Buddha backed up by a protective serpent.

More exquisite temple stone work

One Bayon Temple stone carving depicts fallen sailors attacked by crocodiles. 

More odds and ends

Snails can be enormous in Cambodia. Money is cheap: 1,000 Riel = 25 cents.

Left; Instructions in a Cambodian toilet. Right: Marketing in a Korean toilet.

This fisheries monitoring station cost $1,500 to build.

On a private pond, a fisherman casts his net for fish left behind as Tonle Sap River recedes. . .

. . . then he pulls in the haul and picks out the fish.

Well, I think I'm out of Cambodian stories. But there's still a story or two to share about Malawi. In my next post, I'll tell you about the "soccer mom" of the neighborhood where I stayed.

Until then,
Love,
Robert