The Runaway Cook

It's the middle of the night and this dry heat here is just beginning to cool down. I am exhausted from the long day of touring the fruit farm and crashed on my bed. Pillows prop me up as my body flails to reach the computer so I can talk to a friend from school that lives here, Khairul. After a short conversation, we are both convinced that I must go with him and his buddy on a durian run. . . NOW.

Flashes of tall buildings and cars wiz by our car as we wing around the blocks. We turn to the left onto this street that seems a bit out of place or back in time with short buildings and small fruit stands. Khairul says that this is an old part of town where things stay the same. It's a little broken down but still good.

Our new platinum-colored car pulls up to a parking right in front of what is perhaps the smallest stand on the street. Khairul gets out for a minute and goes back and forth with the keeper in what looks like negotiations. “Ok” He says with a smirk. The three of us sit down in plastic beach chairs pulled up to a rickety folding table, and I can't help but notice a strange aroma of gasoline and something like an onion hanging in the air. The center of the table is a green colored plastic pitcher above a flat cylindrical container. This is water for washing our hands, since we will be eating this fruit with nothing but our hands and the bright pile of pink napkins.

Ok so at this point I'm getting a little nervous. I've never heard anything good about durian. . . except from Khairul, who in this case is not exactly the most believably objective person. Durian, is one of the most famous fruits, especially in this area of the world. Called "the kIng of fruits" it is something any good traveler, and any good cook for that matter, has to eat if they make it here. Oh shoot here it comes! It's cut into two pieces and accompanied by three waters. The couple that runs this stand seem to be snickering at me. Obviously I am a newcomer to the art of consuming Durian.

That "strange aroma" from before has intensified. So, when Khairul told me to “Smell.” I gulped and uttered “Like I can’t already?!” I pick up the prickly half of a fruit and bring it within a centimeter to my nose. The pungent stench of old onions and caramel invades my cranial cavities and lungs. Yep that’s the stuff. Oh God help me! Khairul is digging right in! With his first two fingers an thumb he grabs a large and soft look piece of yellow flesh.

“Well try some!”

“Ok but I’m gonna need a picture of this” I hand his friend the camera. I touch the yellow pouch it feels soft and fibrous with strings like a mango and the softness of a ripe banana. I take about and inch and ask out of pure ignorance, "Is too much or should I open my water first."

“Well your going to have to swallow that first.” He smirks again, this time he is not the only one laughing.

"Ok-aaaaay." I look at it for the final time and take the mouthful of yellow fruit. The taste, surprisingly, is not so offensive. It’s strong and that’s perhaps the worst part. It tastes like a caramelized onion, but it was an onion, you know that sucker that got away from you and got a little mushy waiting for you to find him. Sweet, savory, with just a hint of bitter and biological, it’s not bad as I thought. I eat three more bites. The shopkeeper brings a second one over and it smells much more gasoline."Wheeew! I can’t eat that one."

"Hahahaha" Khairul laughs and his friend and him start in on this reeking second course. They both admit that durian has many levels of quality. "The one you just ate is the best durian you will find out here. And for what I paid for it, it should be." While licking is fruit covered fingers, he explains that everyone has their preferences of the king, from excessively sweet to more bitter and heavy petroleum to more oniony. However, he says that when all those flavors are in perfect harmony, that's when it's really good.

Well, I don't know if I could say that I'll ever find this fruit "really good." But I do know that this wasn't so bad, except for that pungent smell that filled head and lungs and the burps that came afterward. . . . Oh the burps . . . yeah, that was the worst part. "EEEEERRRP!" Awww not again, so gross the second time around :/

I can’t believe that today was our last day here. It feels like just yesterday I had arrived in hot mess straight from Italy. Today, we are technically finished with our school program, and all I can think is how much I wish I could stop time or at least adjust it to be slow enough to be ready for the next second.

It rained this morning, so much so that they postponed our final examination until the rain slowed enough for us to walk in it. Unfortunately, most of the class was already on our way by the time this news of the delay got out. We were soaked to the bone. Surprisingly, both the identification and the written examination were both very easy to me. I knew nearly every answer on the written portion, there was only one question I wasn't positive about. AND get this! I knew all of the foods we needed to identify. I feel so proud. Sometimes learning all these new foods with completely different aromas, flavors, and uses can feel like trying to speak a new language. However, after a month of practicingthis food language, I wish that this test had been just a little more difficult. I really have learned so much here. I just can't believe that I can cook all these things now!

I have fallen for this place and part of me is sick to be nearing the end. Sometimes I think maybe I should have somehow failed the test so I would have to do this program all over again.

I could definitely deal with another night like our At-Sunrice BBQ. THis school sure does them right. Just as the day started to cool, our whole class filed into the bus for what everyone

had told us was going to be one of the best barbecues ever. . . It was. After about a 30 minute drive we arrived at the home of the At-Sunrice School's founder. This woman knows how to through a party. Her whole house opens up to become a fusion of indoors and outdoors. We ate loads of food, much of which was not Asian at all. The sweet offerings of potato salad and steak made us all feel like we just read a postcard from home. Who knew we had missed home so much.

After dinner every person there, which includes every faculty member of the school we had met, got onto the dance floor. I can't tell you how much fun it is to have about five different cultures on a small dance floor all teaching each other the silliest and "coolest" dance moves from home. If you run into me sometime, you have to ask me to demonstrate the Singaporean "math dance"- very cool ;)

I am sad to leave this place, even though I know we are coming back after a week. I guess I'm just a little sad to close this chapter . . . but excited for the new place and new things to learn.

This trip seems to be going much too quickly for me. As soon as I close my eyes at night they open to a world going 60 miles per hour faster than before. Our days here have been so full and so long, that I've had hardly any time to just exist without the pressure to experience and perform. I guess it makes those few moments, like that one in the photo to the left, extra special. . . Yeah, but I still wish that the massage on our schedule in the next couple days, was today.

At least we all can relax in the bus on our six hour trip to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia tomorrow. I really have been looking forward to just cuddling up with my blanket and snacking on some strange-but-good asian junk food. . . hmmm Malaysian customs, wonder what that'll be like.

I'll keep ya posted :)

Well, we have made it! After a long two days of preparing all five of our culinary teams finished our final projects. What were they? A selection of five Asian "tapas" . . . now I know what you're thinking, "Tapas??" Yes, little bites of loveliness, but these aren't tapas aren't Spanish. Each group was assigned a region or Asian style to inspire their selection that will be presented at the At-Sunrice graduation reception.

Photo to left: my team, Team India and our chef behind one of our three stations

Day one was full of prepping. I was assigned to the lamb. Confession: I hate lamb. I try and I try to like it, but the only place I have ever been able to stand it was in Tuscany and that was a miracle! Usually when I eat lamb all I can taste it the barn and that goop under a lamb's leg that I had to scrub off before showing them at the the fair. Ewww! Because of this shortcoming, I can’t cook lamb to the best of it’s potential. I would cover up the taste if I could rather than enhance it. Thankfully, I was able to trade with a teammate and made the chicken and rice balls instead.

As the day progressed we all worked individually and together, helping each other if one needed a piece of equipment or an opinion. And it wasn't just the students, Chef Rishi’s leadership was amazing! He acted not as just a boss or the faculty member, but as a teammate. He worked with us and lead us. When problems arose, like my rice balls needing to stick together better, he listened to our ideas and didn’t just give us answers or poo-poo our ideas. We did end up staying late to be well enough prepared for the next day. I would have been proud of our team even if all our food flopped the next day just because we rocked it at working together.

Day Two: Our group decided that sleeping in was not worth it when it came to our food. As soon as everyone arrived the feeling of urgency and tension shot through the ceiling. Our group members all seemed to be jiving well, but stress and deadlines had groups ready to snap with each other. Luckily nobody made it to that breaking point.

Our food was completed in time and those that had less to do today helped those that had more to do. We also had the help of two students from At-Sunrice. We made light of frying what seemed like a million miniature samosas and tiny rice balls. In the end, we were ready with ample time for the event, we had two items that were a real hit (if not three), and Chef Rishi was proud of us.

Below is a smattering of photos from the event including foods made by other groups. Team India's food photos go diagonally from the top left to the bottom right.

The group toured a soy sauce factory today. Here soy sauce is not just a bottle of brown liquid found on the shelf of the Asian food isle. No! Shame on us for even calling some of that brown stuff soy sauce. I call for us all to end our ignorance and embrace this world of thick and thin, sweet and salty fermented liquid with a process as tedious as making wine.

As soon as that bus door clicked open, there was no mistaking we were near a place that was fermenting something. The air was a cross between, the old corn that has started to get soft and stinky in the corner of a wagon and the steam that hangs above a wok after the famous brown liquid is added. It's sour, it's nutty, it's dark, it's caramel, is't decay. . . in short it's pretty unique with a hint of strange.

These rows and rows of clay pots house fermenting soy beans. Each one covered with a clear top that is propped open to let the air flow in and out. I can't help but think of how much like a cellar this is. Rows of handmade gently curved vessels specially designed to let the valuable inside slowly interact with the atmosphere outside to make this perfectly seasoned product.

The Tai Hua company uses the traditional method of making soy sauce, as apposed to modern processes that rely on chemicals to speed up the process. To begin this nearly 3,000 year old process, the beans are mixed with pulverized wheat, salt, and water to make a mash. Each ingredient added functions to make for just the right combination to allow the right fermentation and enzymatic action.

After filing these clay pots the mixture is left in the hot sun for several months.

As This coveted and semi-secretive process continues it is moved from the pots to large vessels where the liquid is pumped swirled and mixed until perfection. After filtering and bottling the soy sauce is ready for consumption. T

Here's how to distinguish the difference between a good quality and a poor quality soy sauce.