June 14, 2018

After waking up from some much needed uninterrupted sleep, my tummy was rumbling.

My package deal from Hotel Justa includes breakfast until 10 am. It is 9:27, I better get going!

First off, I was expecting an egg- maybe, and fruit and some kind of oatmeal.

I was rewarded with a feast! Oh my goodness food that I don’t recognize, except for the toast and the omelette being made. Ok…that’s normal home food. I am traveling. I don’t do normal, I eat what locals eat.

Pardon me for not knowing the names of the food, but I do know the ingredients. I also took pictures with the name tags identifying the items.

The manager of the hotel introduces himself to me this way: he hold up his cell phone with my text to him about me arriving late ( yes…I paid for the day/night I wasn’t there) and reads directly from it. He laughs and smiles and proceeds to feed me. Seriously, he does. I am game for trying everything that is set out.

Am I going to get sick? Am I about to sabotage my luck avoiding spending time on the throne? I toss caution to the wind and let him take the culinary wheel. I am emulating Anthony Bourdain ( without the shots of liquor that kills the bad bacteria one injects through the consumption of food).

Off we go. He points out steamed rice paddies that you eat with coconut curry and spicy red curry. Oh and these thick pancakes that are really cauliflower, dunk it into lentil soup, and a curry potato soup. A fluffy fried bread that you dunk in the curry spicy potato soup. Cut up fruit, water, watermelon juice ( travel book advices NOT to drink fresh squeezed juices due to not knowing how the fruit was cleaned prior to pressing and maybe mixed with water that isn’t bottled- I am thinking this applies to street vendors) I chug away.

I chug away and eat. The manager then has the cook make me “something special. You will like it.”

It looks like a crepe, it is made with egg, green onions, potatoes. You sop up the spicy lentil soup and the spicy red curry sauce.

I dip. I slurp. I keep reminding myself not to eat with my left hand… which is difficult for me to do.

The manager grins. The cook nods and smiles. The teenage kid at the other table is watching me consume the food like he was watching a lion eating a gazelle on TV. I am THAT interesting. No doubt I am mixing things that shouldn’t be mixed.

I don’t care. I am feasting at 9:45 am.

The cook and the manager both take delight that I am enjoying their food.

Anthony Bourdain would be proud of me for the gusto I am showing.

We connected with food. My morning has been blessed with this interaction.

FYI, it is 10:34 pm. No upset tummy. No interaction with the throne. Looking forward to breakfast in the morning.