Sunday 28 August 2011

[Event - Carnival] Whimsies, Ignorance. And Food. Infinitesimal Food; Caribbean Carnival of Notting Hill

Location - Notting Hill, London [UK]

Whimsically. Whimsidasically. Whimsicalicious. On a whim, is the context of how I experienced this latest adventure. A reason, quickly becoming a recurring one behind many of my motives, or rather the defining reason for this latest of undertakings of the calorific kind. Up until a few weeks ago, I was blissfully oblivious about any sort of "Carnivals" in London. Surely, I thought, the floats would just get stolen, and as if there were further reason needed to worsen the solid ingot that is London traffic. It was brought up in conversation, mainly lambasting how the parade of idiocy of the rioters of late threatened to shut down the Carnival. With it's one million strong crowd of participants. Hold on. One million turnout event thwarted by a couple of bored degenerates? Did not make sense to me either. Nor did the notion of a carnival in London. A Caribbean Carnival. I thought there was not much of a West Indies grounding in London, barring a couple of shady "Jerk" Restaurants in Soho. I plea glorious ignorance. As such, I was wrong. Very wrong.
So I approached this event completely blind, as I do in most other cases, not knowing that carnivals occurred in London, and not knowing much about the Caribbean cuisine culture beyond "Jerk", Malibu Rum and Curry Goat. There is only so much culture I apprehend from beneath this rock. Despite horrifically overindulging but a day before at the second of Thai festivals experienced, I figured I may as well prolong the torture whilst the opportunity has arisen. If am going to kill myself, kill myself in a big way. I would also demystify yet another culture through its foods, or so the hope were there to justify this latest of gorgings. Travel plans drawn up, vague map of the festivities printed out, and my way was made straight after breakfast. Rather pleasingly, traffic was almost all but non-existent on the way up into Central London, finding parking quite easily - and more importantly by being a Sunday, free - just off of Edgware Road, the journey had officially begun. Knowing what could be waiting considering the scale of the event, I was also glad that there would be a lot of walking involved. Little did I know.


Getting off at my stop, I started walking down the what I believe was to be the central road of the festivities, further bolstered by some wig-donning individuals also walking in the same direction. And I walked. And walked some more. Then some more again.


 


A couple of motorists getting to their respective staging places for the festivities, a few tourists making their ways up the road, until I finally reached a block off in the road, signifying the actual start of the parade route. The scaling in this map is obviously only meant to be taken as a ridiculously broad indication. Or by the blind. Walking further along, not much was noticed, the atmosphere was all rather sleepy. A few more roadblocks crept up into view, with the presence of Police forces growing, but nary a food stall, barring a few sporadic burger vans. Burger Vans?! This did not amuse me. Believing, from the distance walked thus far, that I must find myself in the proximity of Turkenistan at this point, the lingering smell and the hazy smoke of barbecues started creeping into existence, given my greed the impetus it so required. Peering down one of the side-streets, a couple of front garden Barbecue setups were spotted, rather timely as it was the moment for my mid-morning snack.


Corn on the Grill


Which consisted of a corn on the cob lashed with butter and heaving amounts of salt, and the first of the "National" dishes of the Caribbean. 

Beef Patty
Beyond giving too much substance to the flavourful and nationalistic notions of a grilled corn on the cob, other than being nicely grilled, not particularly sweet, and drenched in far too much salt and butter, it was rather normal. A tepid starter, but my token one of my five a day, and some much useful fibre if yesterday's mindless indulgence were to serve as reminder. The Beef Patty however could probably be seen as my first foray into the spectrum of Caribbean gastronomy. Be still my beating heart. It was moderate. Looking very much like a Cornish pasty, though less short-pastry like, and rather yellow, it did taste sufficiently different. Seemingly composed of a cornmeal or perhaps chickpea flour-based pastry, which was very light, if a bit bland, the filling was a bit lacking, in volume, and in impact. I suppose not much is to be expected out of the first batch of dropped-out-of-bed cooked foods. The filling was rather soft, a bit of a mush, with a slight hint of curry powder, in all rather appetising if not mesmerising. Regardless, it had satisfied its role as a "snack", and as such, I now had the calories I required. For seeking out my next objects of devouring. It's a vicious cycle.

The mission of scouting had now officially begun.

With that, I proceeded forwards, edging towards what I believed would be the starting point of the festivities. Still not much in the way of action was observed, barring the odd moving stage trucks blaring some music along the way - perhaps the "one million" or so participants did not catch the memorandum, or I was just far too early. More importantly, ever more burger vans were sprouting into view. Still not amused. With each passing step, and each side-street crossed however, more nuances of grilled meats crept into the air, bolstered by its lingering smoky haze, lest it be from other less than equitable sources. A few more built stalls were creeping into view as well, still in mid-construction and preparation of the foods. I believe the scale of my mission at this point was still rather lost on me though, not thoroughly realising just how much the blossoming of the stalls would later explode. Enquiring with a stationary Police Officer, who was conversing with a local proved useless, other than indicating me to search for the vendors "dressed well in white". Thank you.

I crossed a street, wherein was parked a van that this time caught my attention, by dint of not offering thoroughly midnight-drunk/mass-market food; it offered Afro-Caribbean treats. A faint glimmer of hope then! Talking to the proprietor though revealed little extra, other than the road they were located on was where the "officially sanctioned" stalls would be based, with all the back/front-yard vendors being thoroughly unlicensed and thus potentially containing AIDS. Not that it would deter me. Mildly enlightened, I furthered on just to ensure there was life after that road. Reaching the bridge over the River Kwai nearing the A40 which was rather familiar, remembering it to be in the vicinity of Mosob [I walked THAT far?!], I reached the stark conclusion [prematurely] that there was not much else to be observed further on and began to retrace my steps, to then venture down the street of my preliminary feasting, thus far offering the greatest hope of gastronomic retribution. The great expanses of walking after all, would need to be fed.

Festivities now seemed to start picking up on the return journey, with hoards of tourists seemingly materialising out of the thick, grilled meat aroma-laced air. In the distance, I could see what seemed to be a solid moving slug of people stretching to as far as the eye could see, interspersed with a few trucks lost in this torrent. Great, moving masses of people everywhere. Perhaps something I should have expected from a "Carnival", though, it is a necessary evil. Ever nearing, with the stage trucks directly in front, I was faced with the "core" of the carnival, or so to say the wandering dancer parades. It was decidedly weaksauce, with very few of the flamboyant costumes I had expected, or even thought were warranted to even class as a carnival. It seemed to be rather more a forced street party, with a rather tenuous air of "carnival" notions with the grouped off dancers. And they brought along a lot of added people volume. Lame. Pushing through this contraflow of the masses, I soldiered through though, keeping focus to my slowly building greed/hunger. The food stalls and cookers were becoming ever more apparent now, with the aroma becoming pretty dominant in the air. Reaching and subsequently walking down the street where I took my first morsels down,  a startling conclusion arose.

Traversing down this side-road, even its off-shooting roads started to demonstrate burgeoning options for food, predominantly of the backyard variety. Drats. This could be difficult in the interests of creating some sort of structure or "route" of deliberations. Arriving at a cross-roads, I was met with several options, literally in four directions, which would prove to be a recurring event for the remainder of the day, with any option drawing with it its opportunity. Argh. Choosing the one, I soon came across a quiet stall, where upon I decided to start at least building stock.


Plantain, Dumpling & Fritter
Fried plantain, a dumpling, and a fritter were purchased. Not perhaps the most adventurous of choices, but it was a start - the fritter apparently consisting of a combination of saltfish and other miscellanea, thus proving interesting enough in its role. These would be for later. Backtracking slightly, I return to the crossroads and take another path, this time happening across a rather large stand selling, amongst other things, fruit, which I thought would be useful should my glutton run carry on beyond lunch and into the time of my afternoon snack - these are all careful considerations you see, even during a carnival. 

Coconut and Guinep fruit
I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the fruit, though I know that it sounded similar to the Thai longan, and may have indeed been the Caribbean version as they are similar fruit. In essence, it is a bit like a lychee - a thin brittle skin covering a translucent milky flesh, which contains a hard "stone" of a seed in the middle. Eating it was similar as well, though the flesh was fibrous and rather hard to separate from the seed, to the lychee's jelly-like and rather lazy attachment to its seed. It was basically like trying to eat the flesh on a mango stone, where all the fibres just end up getting stuck in between your teeth, and the eternal/infernal struggle to separate fibre from teeth takes control of all life as you know it. Taste-wise it was not too dissimilar - basically like a lychee though less floral, and a whole lot more sour. It was rather addictive though, and a bundle were bought for later. Whilst I did not want to entertain the high calories and fat [think of the waistline, Jeebus!] of the coconut, my current thirst did as much as to convince a drink of the relatively calorie-friendly coconut juice, and thus, purchase was made. When finishing the juice I was told that I could return to have the coconut split to later eat out the meat, and with that thoughtful gesture, I departed. Though I quickly returned, perhaps subconsciously realising I would never find the stall again, as a result finishing the generous amount of juice barely cresting the corner away from the stall. The coconut was duly split open, and a rather innovative spoon fashioned out of a scalloped section of the outer husk. I departed, yet again, with time ticking and hunger burgeoning. 

Returning to the crossroads, I moseyed on down past that initial stall of purchases, whereby I was met with the stark realisation once again. I had encountered a veritable Food stall aisle. Except this aisle was a street. I had grossly underestimated this event. Whereas all the other fairs and events I had previously attended were based on closed grounds, this one was based on an entire City District. This was a vastly different animal to those events of before. The rows of aisles and small paths within a convention centre or outdoor park were now entire neighbourhood roads and blocks. The parks themselves dotted around the district also contained further stalls. This threw up, no, erupted forth a plethora of questions. When posed with a choice out of roughly infinity, give or take infinity, just where does one begin?! How the hell do I structure the purchases, the timings, and the meals? Just how much more anally retentive can I get? And then some. More importantly as well, a question that would reverberate throughout the day, just how do I separate, within the space of a year or so, the stalls making proud, home-made food, and those trying to make a quick profit? So many questions, so much food. And an impatient stomach. I would essentially, need to go with the flow. 


Braving this aisle, I gingerly made my way down, glancing at menus, trying to spot individual varying items. Choosing a "Jerk" dish was going to be amusing, as essentially every single stall offered the dish, even some of the Asian stalls. Just how will I recognise good from evil?! Infact, what do I know about the difference between the two, I've yet to ever try it. Damn you preconceptions. Food, FOOD, MOAR FOOD! Food as far as the eye could see, but I feared for letting my stomach lead me. Even I cannot eat a full districts' worth. Though it would be a rather preposterous exercise with the ubiquity of Jerk. As I furthered down the aisle, I then spotted the first of the variations.

Phulouri
Looked like dumplings, but weren't dumplings. Therefore, I had to have them. Roti was not quite ready yet, so I would have to return. That's hopeful, I would never find them again. I furthered down, the load in my carrier bag gaining prodigious mass the further I walked. I had barely just started, instantly ruing the decision to not bring a backpack. Stopped by one stand, I questioned the availability of Ackees & Saltfish, only to be denied it as of yet, proceedings only just starting. I was however submitted to a taste of some Jerk Chicken, a helpful basis from which to ground from. Tastes like barbecued chicken, how expected. I had believed that Jerk spicing included, amongst other things, Scotch Bonnet peppers. This obviously was a "British"-aimed version, possible spiced with milk. I was also offered rather proudly the taste of the vendors' vegetarian lasagna. 

It was not lasagna.

Continuing on, some peculiar sights crept into view, more and more restaurant sponsored stalls, and what was this? Reggae Reggae Sauce? Bah. Keep this mainstream blasphemy away from me. I emerged out where the parade route was apparently meandering through, thoroughly lost and blankly staring at the map, hoping for it somehow to imbue some sort of sense. Ceding this fruitless exercise, I continued along, reaching a further upstream section of the parade procession, which I would follow briefly before detouring through a park, which contained a myriad of stalls. With "lunch" drawing ever closer I did a little reconnaissance on the stalls, individualising any particular victims. Some sweet items were noted. Bought. Quickly stored to hide away temptation. I believe they were a Rock Cake and a Coconut Drop, I forget, I had a hot flash of pleasure in merely sighting sweet treats. Nothing else particularly interesting me, and yet again being denied of Roti, I consulted the map, which this time proved vaguely invaluable, helping lead me towards the main initial road of the processions. On the way, I came across one of the first of the apparelled dancers. Oh dear. Aren't they miserable. The two octogenarians walking ahead seemed to be having particularly a better time. The ambience grew ever more tenuous, though it must be said that I had no clue whatsoever that the "Full Fat" Adult carnival would be taking place tomorrow. Thus I am protected in my opinion by my ignorance. 

Emerging on Golborne Road, I was greeted with a prodigious site. Moar stalls! This time, an absolute proliferation, filling the space of the road. Just in time for lunch as well. Prospects looked good when the first stall already offered up a rather different option. Despite being a vegetarian dish, and thus despicably of the hippy, I pined for the Channa & Pumpkin Roti. There was absolutely no deterrent - Channa [chickpeas]? Good. Pumpkin? Better. Roti? Win. Despite being told time and time again that there would be a delay, I was not discouraged, I would resist. By having one of the phulouri balls. Which was rather quite delectable. Despite having fallen off the plate perilously placed on top of the coconut within the carrier bag, and thus discontented of the sauce included, it was rather delightful. A lightly curried, soft doughy ball with a slight sour tang to it, the slight sweetness of the sauce combining with it to soften the sourness. Quite unlike what I was expecting, and all the better for it. Eventually, the Roti was done.

Pumpkin & Channa Roti
In all its badly focussed photograph glory. It was a difficulty in taking a one-handed shot on manual-focus [littlest violin playing] and trying not to devour through the camera at the same time. This was quite lovely, perhaps made more so by the wait. Despite using canned chickpeas, and my roti being microwaved to other customers' ones being pan-griddled, it was hearty. The roti was light and soft, containing chickpea flour in abundance, the filling was as earthy and hearty as the chickpea and pumpkin would suggest it was. There was a light hint of cumin and curry powder that tarted the whole ensemble up, but did not overwhelm. Perhaps too light a hint. This however, seemed to be a roti tardis, with each de-shrouding of the inhaled sections revealing an apparently growing roti. I did not complain. And despite its size, it was not at all heavy on the stomach. Ergo, more was required to satiate lunch. Roti denials, retribution achieved. I searched on for the next victims of my insatiable hunger. Bypassing the Thai & Spanish food stalls and their irrelevance. Happening across one rather large stall, I immediately inquired about an interesting item listed, fried breadfruit. Denied. I hate you. Moved on opposite and inquired about Ackees & Saltfish. Denied again, hate you more. Unfortunately, this show of customer infedelity did not spur a charge to satisfy my needs, so I continued on, noticing a fried flatbread at another stall.

Fry Bake
  Fried bread. Nothing more really needs to be said, other than it was hurriedly disposed of into my impregnated carrier bag before it was devoured in the instant it travelled from vendors' hand into mine. It was delightfully fluffy on the inside whilst the outer layer was just crisp. Even the road markings point to its levels of awesome. Further on, more ubiquities and intrigues to be sought, this time arriving at the crossroads of the infamous Portobello Road. Peering down either path, I was presented with the sight of a Lebanese Food Stall down one end, with more apt Caribbean options being apparent on the other. On such thin grounds I thusly headed for the latter. Lunch, or rather, the latter part of lunch having merely attained the "starters" at this point, was of priority. Close-packed and copious, the stalls here were proliferate, mostly offering the same ubiquitous options noted in the Town's worth of stalls, with great variances seen however in at least the superficial notion of proud and profit cuisine, with the seemingly family-based outlets interspersed with the more commercial or less homely looking ones, with even the appearance of the Patties varying from flaky, fresh out of the oven types to the pre-packaged, mass-made uniform ones. Which brought the question of separating from either types of cuisines back to haunt. Attempts to differentiate would be futile at best, and being picky would just serve nothing with no actual grounds to base opinion on. The hardship.


Certain varying stalls then started creeping into view, with a particular one catching my eye.

Moi Moi
An African Cuisine stall displayed itself at my whim, offering among other things, Moi-moi [or Moin-moin], a rather predominant staple in Western Africa, and much to their bafflement, I purchased it on its own and carried on - I have to be explorative and frugal at the same time! Being formed I believe of a black bean meal, combined with spices, corned beef, perhaps some miscellaneous wildlife and some voodoo magic, amongst other things, it is usually served with rice and whatnot. It is essentially SPAM. With the inclusion of corned beef, the hint of SPAM was there, but it was a whole lot more invigorating, with use of perhaps Scotch Bonnets imbuing a nicely spiced tang, and just a notion of a much heartier brick of food than SPAM. A sampler is all I needed, this would be for later destruction. Soon after, I came across a stall offering the usual assortment of Caribbean fair, and in lieu of previous denials, inquired about the Ackees & Saltfish. Which was available. Done.


Ackees & Saltfish with Dumpling
Coming with a rather intimidating cannonball of a dumpling, lunch was thus ready. Tucking straight into the armament-grade dumpling, I was greeted with an incredibly dense, fragrant dough, a crisp thick outer layer giving way to a compact, concrete-like dough core, heavy but delicious. The gargantuan bite merely scratching its surface. Straight into the Ackees & Saltfish, not knowing what to expect, but finding quite a delightful mix. A salty fish essence [figure that?!] mixing in with an almost egg-like mix, and the freshness of the salad cutting through and lightening it all up. Just as I was about to emit some pleasure moans, a flash monsoon rained down, attempting to put me off my food, but failing. The dough bowling ball not even flinching with the downpour, remaining crisp as I took another bite. Finishing half the dish, I relinquished the rest for later consumption, as other than carrying a weeks' worth of meals in a suffering carrier bag, hands all full, I was also now rather saturated. In water, not food. Not by a long shot. Well actually I was, but I had merely culminated a minute faction of my requisite tastings.


What also needed was something to soften and moisten the travelling bulk of forthcoming intestinal blockage with a drink, and not contenting for just petty, mundane water, I went with something a bit more traditional.


Sorrel Juice
Also rather extortionate, at £4. Justified because its from natural juices? Yeah your mother. Regardless, being told it was "like ginger", I found it to be. Well, like ginger. With less of a harder edge and spice of ginger. In as much as it was exquisitely refreshing like ginger, and only lightly sweet. Contented. And robbed. And on seeing the diffusion of "French Crepes", "Japanese Food" and other assorted anomalies at an opening at the end of Portobello Road, I figured to turn around and go explore the "Official" Food Road of Oxford Gardens whilst my body had not yet exploded, and my legs could still carry my weight. This would then preclude the recognition round of other requisite dishes to then devour in the comfort of my own home. Obviously though, if the opportunity is presented before you, seize it, and before reaching the end of Oxford Gardens I had already added an order of Curry Goat and a preposterous insult of a Coco Bread, costing far too much and being just a normal bread roll. I am not sure at this point where my ability to say no had galavanted to. The notion of getting a bigger carrier bag was also growing rather emphatically in importance, not realising that my arms were actually on the cusp of falling off at this point, by dint of having lost feeling in my palms quite a while ago. This was compounded by the notion that I also sought a fulfilling of a certain glutton of a sweet tooth. This did not bode well. The Sorrel juice would have to do for now. Arriving at the end of the road, I then met with the site of the familiar Food Truck that perhaps signified the beginning of this overindulgent and perhaps overwrought mission, and they too now must face my whim. Right after I replenished the wallet, having exhaust funds. Whilst there, I decided to opt for an African Dish I was not acutely aware of, but another sat directly in my face instantly became an object of desire. 

Chin Chin
Whilst my main dish of Asaro [a spiced yam "porridge"] & Fried Fish was being prepared, these Chin-chin were taunting me, a snack I'd long wanted to try, having made their way into one of my "must have" lists long implemented into the blog. Whilst there, I also, in clear desperation at this point, questioned if a plastic bag were at all available, and to my ecstatic delight, my prayers were answered - 1324 assorted plastic bags now became one! With some extra storage space to boot, win-win. As soon as the main was done, I snatched a bag of the Chin-chin and made my way. Obviously impatient, though not particularly hungry, I cracked open the packet and had a couple. Oh. My. Word. These are epic. Little crunchy cubes of epic. In fact, I cannot seem to stop eating them, these are fiendishly addictive. Halp. The fact that they were ever so slightly sweet only served to worsen matters, taunting my sweet-tooth in the process. Any attempts to desist their consumption was failed, for every few passes, and a hand would drop into the carrier bag for another fill.

With lunch now [supposedly] well and truly over, I had around a three hour margin to burn before my next bout of "hunger" would kick in, in which time I aimed to do a final recognition round, perhaps of the whole parade lap for some final must-try meals, with particular emphasis on the desserts that were so lacking in my walking pantry bag. Heading towards Golborne Road, the festivities at this point, almost a forgotten entity, were quite in full bloom, which annoyingly meant ever greater crowds. Not deterred, I reached, hand dipping into the disgustingly delicious Chin-chin packet every now and then. Attempts at perhaps hoping I would be rewarded with Fried Breadfruit after allowing some time to pass for their sins, was met with further denial. However, retribution was to be found at the stall next door. HAH. I think I may have avoided this stall on the last round by dint of its "Vegetarian Cuisine" billing. Well, even the hippies need some love. Whilst there, I also purchased another item to my growing inventory of desserts - a peanut drop. Thoroughly exciting I know, but worthy all the less. Inching along, another item was sought, purchased, and stored in quick succession. This time a coconut roll, not overly exciting again but what intrigued was the proud vendor clamouring the use of coconut and cinnamon layering in his roll. Coconut and cinnamon? Interesting. Obviously that was just semantics, it was a sweet treat, thus it would always be purchased. How I missed sight of these the first time around I do not know, perhaps subconsciously preventing a diabetic seizure by visual ignorance?

Reaching the Portobello Road crossroad again, I this time decided to venture down the other side - the Lebanese food stall side. Nothing at that stall for me, and seemingly nothing at the next stall, but the vendor drew me in with the usual barrage of sweet nothings about how their food is somehow superior to the google or so scattered around. Cutting him short stating that I had a sweet tooth to nurture, I was offered some rum cake, which I duly purchased a slice of. Little did I know of what divine creation I would be buying, with the lady at the stall gently hinting at such; somehow, her claim was more sincere than the usual boastings. Returning back down the original Portobello route, having satisfactorily purchased a varied enough spectrum of desserts [5 if you're counting], I would essentially use the time to purchase the last of the requisite dishes I had thus far held off on. A box of Jerk Chicken was the first, the stall not looking particularly the most enticing by dint of its lazy, sleepy looking patrons, but with the abundant choice, and the fact I had been walking around for around four or five hours, I could not build up enough caring. I then recognised a stall from an advert I had seen on the internet. Actually, I had noticed the stall before, but whilst then I snubbed it by having adverts on the internet and thus being commercial, I released my prejudices and stopped to have an inspection, being offered a piece of Jerk Chicken as well. Which was rather bland. Nothing was particularly enticing, but the bean cake sounded intriguing enough and was duly purchased, figuring in all its vegetarian-ness to be a perfectly balanced dinner to today's gross continuous gorging. This purchase, obviously showed the power of advertising. Or the mind control of internet. 

This time, I also ventured slightly deeper into the Portobello Market arena, ignoring the French Crepes and Sushis and their slight irrelevance to the cultural theme of the Carnival [I'm a bitch, I know], I uncovered some more interesting items. First of which was a juice stall, and being as I was "thirsty", I opted for a Mauby Juice, not actually knowing the hell it was. What it was, was rather peculiar. Very. Peculiar. Rather prominent taste, like cinnamon, without its sweetness and softer edges. This is obviously a polarising drink, though I kept with it, perhaps romanced by its "medicinal" qualities. Apparently it can also be a laxative to first time drinkers, something that thankfully did not verify itself, otherwise the carnival may have been inundated. Just next door to this stall, another object of desire thrust its existence unto me. Again from Western Africa, this time, a Puff-puff - essentially, a doughnut type fried dough. Yet again, you try justifying not purchasing it. Especially at a measly 50p - I was ready to barter like a Spartan seeing as I had but 70p in pocket and the item was listed at £1, but fortunately this fate was not unleashed onto the patron. Another sip of the Mauby, still peculiar. Refreshing but peculiar.

With this section of the town now thoroughly investigated, and money very quickly running out, I ventured my path towards following the carnival route thus far missed to complete my reconnaissance. Which proved predominantly fruitless, with nothing much actually going on, other than a load of miserable dancers following trucks. Until, a glorious moment, when detouring through a park, I caught sight of a stall. A Filipino stall! Woot! Do they have Balut?! No?!! Bah. They did however, have two desserts - Hopia and Turon - and naturally, being from the Philippines, a country whose predominantly unhealthy but gloriously delicious sounding dishes, and being sweets, they were rather predictably purchased and added to my ever growing multi-cultural carrier bag patisserie & delicatessen. Rather contented with this purchase, I rejoined the train of not-interesting, again seeking other cheap treats. Another groups of stalls appeared, showing some rather intensely delicious meals, with Jerk Chicken and Pork looking far better than what I had purchased, though retrospect is fun like that. Eventually I was getting bored, especially as the train started rounding the top of the route which was essentially a back road behind a residential block, creating a show in the shadiest - literally and figuratively - places. Elbowing and thrashing my way through the crowds, if only in mind, I then headed back for the Central road of the festival, ready then for my walk back, at this point relatively contented with my bounty.


Reaching the road, I bid adieu to the notion of any more purchases, only to stop by a stall I noticed during my very first walk up the road, and instantly got hawked. I may as well, it sounded healthier too, the Vegetable & Pumpkin Stew in Coconut sounding particularly appetising, as the chef assured me. This would also do a better job for dinner, being even benevolent sounding than the Bean cakes of before, despite the fact that it would take far more to right the evils of today. Purchased, and onwards, to the end of the event. Back down the eternal road. Replete with a bursting bladder, destroyed palms and slightly aching feet. Turning back momentarily, I was met with the stark contrast of what I had met at the same spot just hours beforehand.



What was an empty ribbon of road stretching into the distance, with sporadic evidence of life, was now a solid ingot of people, chaos, noise, and Jerk Chicken. Quite glad I will not join the festivities on the actual Bank Holiday where such a situation could only worsen. Even as such, I was still slightly irked by the rather pretentious nature of this "Carnival" - it all just seemed rather forced, more of an excuse to close down a part of town and "party" without a care, rather than a carnival showing pride through its procession. I am the eternal pessimist though, what do I know. Little, as the costumes would follow the next day. And only a week prior I had never even heard of the existence of a Carnival in London. Gracious to every known deity for the sight of some Port-a-cabins, which proved intense in keeping the stacks of food amassed hygienically isolated, I continued my journey back. I was aching, reeked of food [a plus, lingers the memory], had thoroughly pigged out [not a plus, lingers in the memory], my sunglasses had broken, but I was thoroughly contented. If I had aimed to culturally broaden my scope through eating today, if only through what is offered as a view within the restraints of this society, then I have certainly achieved that.


Reaching my car just in time for my afternoon fruit snack, I tucked straight in to the deadweight I had carried around for most of the day.


"Jelly" Coconut
Using the aforementioned innovative "spoon", the jelly coconut was quickly disposed of, tasting rather light, fresh and instantly bringing meaning to all the signs depicting "jelly" coconut, and no sight of actual jelly. Ten of the guinep fruits were also destroyed, rendering my hands and face a sticky mess, much to the visual delight of several passer-bys. I also took the opportunity to sample some of the desserts, with each proving its worth and rather interesting. Then the Nom Cake. O.M.G. Put it back. NAO. That was dangerously delicious. It cannot be legal. If anything could be described with a scream of pleasure, that would be the descriptive most apt for the Rum cake. Exquisitely moist, gently flavoured, and a strong rum perfume, it was all sorts of amazing. Not for now though. Tidy up the foods, and back on my way home. In simple awe of the scale and broad demographic scene of what I had just experienced. And in disgust of how much of it I have experienced. A vicious circle.

~ The ones that did NOT get away ~

Aerial Photograph of the victims
  • Hopia [Philippines] - Sweetened Mung Bean-filled Pastry
Despite never actually having tasted it before, I spurt forth with my biased exaltation on Filipino Food! With that out of the way, the Hopia was rather a subtle delight - quite meekly sweet, nice hint of sesame, rather obviously concluded from the generous sprinkling on top. 
  • Puff-puff [West Africa] - Deep-fried Lightly Sweetened Dough Ball
Another treat I was delighted to come across - I challenge anyone to not share enthusiasm over fried dough. Much like the other African fried dough treat I bought, it also was awesome. Like a bigger, softer chin chin, it provided a lightly sweet spongy dough, with what once was a crisp outer layer, with it no longer being the case having been refrigerated for a week. Not greasy in the slightest, and not heavy in its consistency. 
  • Turon [Philippines] - Banana-filled Pastry Cigar with Cinnamon
Another Filipino food of fate, and another score, the Turon consisting of a thin slice of sweetened banana in a filo-esque pastry cigar which is then sprinkled with cinnamon. As such, this was rather crunchy, lightly cinnamon flavoured, with an exquisitely sweet banana filling. A very nice and subtle treat, and not at all the rich and destructive treat I thought it could be.
  • Asaro with Fried Fish [African] - Spiced Yam Porridge
Whilst the proportioning left a bit to be desired, the execution certainly did not. I am not entirely sure how the yam composition is to be considered a porridge, with most of the chunks being rather intact, but it was wonderfully flavourful. Nicely spiced, with a sweetness from the yam and a tang from perhaps Scotch Bonnet peppers supplementing each other rather well. The fish, whilst rather meagre in comparison to the geological plateau of yam, was also enjoyable, with a similarly spiced tomato sauce. Lots of carbs in those yams though, hmph >_>
  • Coconut Roll (with Cinnamon) [Caribbean] - Shredded Coconut-infused Pastry Roll
Whilst not completely selling me on sight and in description, looking a bit too "artificially" coloured for me, it did however turn out to be a quite lovely combination. The coconut and cinnamon married rather quite well, the sharpness of the cinnamon balancing with the creamy coconut shreds, and diffusing through the crumbly roll.
  • Black Bean Cakes [Caribbean] - Spiced, Breaded Bean-meal Cakes
A rather reasonable dish considering the rather unexciting constitution. The bean cakes had an interesting spice combination, not quite able to pinpoint it as I my ability to distinguish such subtle nuances are noticeable by their absence, only staunchly, face-slappingly obvious characteristics register with my blunt senses. The sweetness of the cakes also worked well with the spicing.
  • Curry Goat with Rice & Peas [Caribbean] - Curried Goat with Rice & Beans
Wondering primarily what differences would arise between a Caribbean and an Asian Curry, I was met with, well, not much of a difference at all. It was a rather weak curry, if mostly in potency, and generally a bit meek. The goat meat was much like lamb, with perhaps a bit less of the lamb aroma, though certainly very greasy. The rice and "peas" did not throw any surprises, other than being pleasingly earthy with the addition of the kidney beans, giving a good diffusion of flavour of the curry goat.
  • Fried Breadfruit [Caribbean]
Not sure if I was expecting much out of this or not, especially in the sense of tasting like bread. It did not, though apparently it is a breadfruit more for its texture when cooked, which I suppose draws some parallel. A very slightly sweet and rather starchy fruit, it worked well with the Jerk Chicken and plantain, providing a potato-like starchiness, though much lighter in consistency.
  • Rum Cake [Caribbean] - Rum-infused Sponge Cake
Quite frankly epic. Exquisitely soft and moist, delicately flavoured, and with a gratuitous hit and perfume of Rum. This cake slice was simply astounding. 
  • Rock Cake [Caribbean] - Ginger & Raisin Muffin-esque Cake
Another surprise, after a Google search corrected my assumption on this the coconut drop, though again I figured rock cake for its consistency, rather than its appearance. Rather nicely spiced, with a hint of ginger and the rich raisins coming through. Lightly sweet, and utterly addictive.
  • Peanut Drop [Caribbean/African] - Peanuts Caramelised in Sugar
Not the most complicated of dishes, but certainly hard to resist - sweetened peanuts. Reese's Pieces. Awesome, more awesome, etc. These are done especially well, with the full aroma of the peanut permeating through, the sugar providing just the right amount of sweetness to create instant peanut butter as you chew.
  • Coconut Drop [Caribbean] - Coconut Pieces Caramelised in Gingered Sugar
Despite looking, breaking up like, and being as hard to eat like a rock, it is most certainly worth it. The strong presence of ginger with the coconut chunks and the sweetening sugar create a rather indulgent sharp and spicy sweet sensation, constantly changing as you bite through the coconut and get its creamy essence. 
  • Fritter, Dumpling & Plantain [Caribbean] - Saltfish Fritter, Fried Dough Ball & Fried Plantain
No real surprises from not overly complicated items - the fritter was predominantly batter based, though I did not pay attention to what was actually included. It did have a slight fish aroma coming through, and it was generally a pleasant morsel. The dumpling, whilst not as epic as the cannonball consumed in the day, was regardless also delightful, being much lighter in consistency though perhaps less aromatic. The plantain as well, was as expected - like a cooked banana, though unlike banana the sweetness is somewhat restrained, not lingering as long, and not as overly sweet. Did work well in combination with the fish and Jerk Chicken.
  • Jerk Chicken & Plantain [Caribbean] - Spiced Grilled Chicken
A bit of a disappointment, but also still enjoyable - obviously made to the mainstream level as this certainly was not spiced with Scotch Bonnets, or to any meaningful degree. It was essentially barbecued chicken, but then again, there is nothing wrong with barbecued chicken. I just would have appreciated a greater profusion of spicing. It did tie in well with the plantain slices. 
  • Pumpkin & Vegetable Stew in Coconut with Rice & Peas [Caribbean]
Perhaps this would have been one to sample immediately, as by the time it was ready to consume, it was less of a stew, and more of a soggy rice dish, but it was still delightful. What few vegetables included were moderately sweetened by the pumpkin, and a very slight nuance of coconut permeated. The rice was also nice and fluffy, using a different type of bean or pea that was similar to a chickpea, and as a result, rather quite earthy, combining nicely with the root vegetables in the stew. Of particular note was the chilli sauce added, richly flavoured with Scotch Bonnets, a nice amount of heat, and generally rather nice and tangy.

~~~~

So it was over, this latest of events attended also being the greatest, most definitely in terms of scale. Hideously so. Vehemently so. The sheer scale of this event having completely blind-sided me, presenting in itself as its greatest asset, and an infernal cause for ruing. In its size, the Notting Hill Carnival provided all the scope required for broadening on yet another facet of global cuisine; this scale however would also cast consideration on the consistency in the general quality of the food being provided, and caused utmost irritation in attempting to plan a route or structure in what there was to sample. Being largely a guerilla-type setup, with stalls haphazardly thrown where ever a space were available, the only solution would be through mass ground beating. I only have such small strides. This first doubt was amplified as well by the sheer participation number of the events - with an apparent million strong crowd, just how authentic, adventurous and nostalgic can the vendors be, when in the end, they need to make their money? And just how would I tell the difference, knowing essentially everything about nothing about Caribbean cuisine? A risk to take, but also a ground to base future occasions on. I can only expect so much at this point. In all though, I was left pleased. Beyond the slight ghetto of an area that the carnival extended into, the profuse number of people happening as a byproduct of a carnival, are merely aspects of me being a Grinch refusing to absorb the atmosphere. Bah to that, I was here, to eat.


Eat I did. However, the atmosphere was a matter of contemplation, if only slight, and only when encountered with the procession, as I have made clear where my focuses were [my stomach does my thinking]. Despite only recently discovering the existence of the carnival, never having attended carnivals, and generally not caring about carnivals, little in the air of this event felt like a carnival. It felt forced. Watching the rudimentary moving stages inch along with grouped dancers ambling behind, nearly none of them in costume, and a lot of the younger groups distinctly miserable, it seemed more than a little tenuous. The crowds as well were just as part of the space as the "acts", joining along, occupying space, or just moving along, a general melange of chaos. No gaudy, grand and professional processions, no hugely elaborate floats and demonstrations, no Town-wide preparations and decorations. It just seemed an excuse to get out on the street and party, with the watchful eye of a strong Police "Parental Guidance". I cannot whine lyrical too much though, as this party brought along with it a veritable smattering of delights. Whilst not wowed by anything in particular - other than the epic Rum Cake - I was certainly delighted. Whilst the choice of food abound was infinitesimal, the variation certainly was not, which also made narrowing down from the selection a simply fruitless exercise. I suppose, within the restraints of not being in the country of origin of the cuisine I was sampling, again, I can only base my opinion on those grounds, rather than an ultimate defining characteristic of said cuisine.


My spectrum, has certainly been broadened now, and it was good to break away momentarily from the onslaught of those devilish Asian desserts. What can I take from the experience? Despite going on a whim, be prepared - bring that godforsaken backpack, I know I'm greedy, mark locations on the map, and don't rush purchases. I just need to convince my stomach on that last point. 

Read more!

Saturday 27 August 2011

[Event - Fair] Glutton for Punishment? Certain as Thai; Amazing Thailand Festival at Secrett's of Milford

Location - Secretts Garden Centre of Milford, Surrey [UK]

Little more than two weeks after the dessert-based destruction of physique I had submitted myself to following a Thai Festival, here I am again perhaps in an all too familiar case of Deja vu', retrospects' delinquent relative. At a Thai Festival. Having experienced back then seemingly an entire chapter of the oceanic expanse that is Thai Cuisine's repertoire, I ventured forth onto this potential coronary event with considerably less culinary obfuscation. Or rather, less complete ignorance. As well as approaching with another motive. I must now, expand. Not physically [well, not of my choosing at least], but figuratively, expanding what I had experienced then. I would also learn, to use the freezer for impulse purchases to avoid the glucose onslaught of the previous occasion. One small step for man and all.
So I departed, soon after having my mid-morning salad in a vain attempt to at least imbue my digestive system with a modicum of fibre to facilitate the expulsion of the calorific blockade of Thai delicacies that would soon start flooding in. I affronted this latest of events with particular optimism, assuming that in being based within the grounds of a garden centre that space, and thus choice, would be limited. As will shortly be evident, that was a rather foolish presumption to make. The fair, was essentially a Food Fair. With a mere couple of diverging stalls. Much in complete about-face to the previous one. My streak of relentless succumbing to temptation was going to be severely tested.

The procession blocking my path to gastronomic annihilation. The rudeness.
Miscellaneous prettily arrayed foods

A literal endless road of food stalls. This wreaked havoc on my notions of restraint.

Walking across the central pathway, I was rather suddenly daunted by just how many food stalls there were. The more I walked, the more they appeared, seemingly never ending. Even looking away from the pathway, food stalls crept into view just about anywhere the eye cared to rest. This was not good. Yet again, my hopeless attempt at restraint consisting of camera in hand in the providing of some respite of food catapulting into the bin receptacle of a mouth lasted only three pictures before I came across a temptation that rendered any attempts at establishing my ludicrously inept willpower, effete.

  • Khanom Buang [ขนมเบื้อง] - Sweet Crepes with Meringue & Assorted Filling

I came across these, and as simply as that, all notions of persisting until "lunch" were immediately vanquished. What solace I tried grabbing was in their minute size, and once sampling them [rather promptly], I had to get the hell out of there. They were delicious - delightfully petite and as thin as paper, yet whilst initially being crunchy gave way to a soft and chewy centre with the filling. The taste was peculiar, sweet but not overly so and I have no recollection of what the toppings were. Before I skedaddled though, I thought it opportune to purchase a little box of Sticky-rice based Khanoms. There is no need to explain the actions of the purchasing of sticky rice. It is a requisite.

The next purchased item was a bit of a dubious one at this point in time.
  • Gluay Kaek [กล้วยแขก] - Sweet Banana Fritters


Just got here and straight for dessert? Hath I no shame?! I don't, just copious building reserves of flat that should make me ashamed, but no. These were for later. Despite the deviously high glycaemic load of bananas. There is no sense in gorging, but at least I gorge smartly! Sense the clear delusion. Quickly getting the hell away from that stall before temptation dealt me a cardiac event, I was yet again stopped in my footsteps, this time by a particular morsel that instantly spoke to me. 
  • Khanom Krok [ขนมครก] - Coconut Rice Mini-pancake Dumplings

Coconut. DONE. Everything else included in the description was inconsequential. These mini-pancakes were being churned out freshly, and despite still being an hour or so early before I would duly be "hungry", I caved in yet again. Particular restraint was required not to devour the vendors' arm either. Immediately after sampling them, I was overcome with bliss - a delicate cup of coconut pancake was filled with an absolutely decadent and rich coconut cream. Being just made, it was extremely fresh and natural tasting. The highlight came with the variety of toppings, from corn, to..I forget. They added that salty, earthy note that, which I've mentioned a plethora of times before and shall do so again, instantly adds a dose of epic. Just as quickly as they had appeared into my life, they had also been vanquished. At this rate I may as well have just considered an "Italian Lunch", lasting for the rest of the day. Off again to inevitably more temptations. I had not even drawn any money out at this point, subsisting on the coinage from the cars' coin tray collection.

Moseying on I thus attempted to achieve what I had originally sought to do and scout, with out putting something in my mouth, the remaining food stalls in order to form some form of structured plan for my eventual lunch. At this point it was all semantics as I had blown that notion a couple of food inhalations ago, but I figured the thought would count. A lot of the stalls offered the same dishes, with few offering notable variances, figuring that consuming industrial amounts of the identical dishes would be a wasted effort. Achievable, but certainly wasted. I soon came across some familiar sights, including the abominable bane of my waistline that was the Rumwong Stall from the last festival whose Khanom Wans I destroyed. I rather speedily sidestepped away this trap. Whereupon I came across another familiarity. This was essentially the same stall and set-up of that I first encountered at Danson Park. With epic Sticky-rice Lady at the front again. Who promptly recognised me and issued me with the ubiquitous handful of epicrice. She also had new stocks on her table. Drats.

They were also Takoh, one of my favourite of the desserts I sampled last time. This time made by Sticky-rice Lady. And she had two variations. Damnations. Last of the coins handed over, this time the meals being reserved later, get the hell out of there. Not before I was recognised by another of the ladies, who promptly issued me a handful of Barbequed pork. Argh! My gluttony, it has benefits but its also haunting me! Yet again I promptly had to plan an escape before consuming humans, finishing the round of that same stall of the previous fair, fulfilling my inquisitional deliberations of my quest for Durian by sampling a taster of Durian Ice-cream [rather nice] and making a mental note of destroying some later, I crested my way towards the back of The Stall Road directing towards the last of the observed food stalls. Meandering towards a tent, with a sign denoting of "Healthy" foods, much in that at this point any notion of healthy eating were largely facetious, I figured no further harm can be done. Lunch was just an ideal at this point, of what could have been had I had a backbone. Immediately displayed were an assortment of weird, wonderful, and not that mysterious fruit, ranging from rambutans, to guava, mangosteen and dragonfruit. Alas, I had run out of my taxi fare collection. 

The fruit was free. YAY/BOO! It's all fibre anyway, I'll be fine. Encouraged by the chirpy attendant girl, first off I sampled was the rambutan, which rather astonishingly when looking and feeling like lychee, also tasted like lychee. Unlike lychee however, the seed was soft, and I promptly made a mess and consumed half of it. The guava was uninteresting, tasting like a bland, sour apple, then I came to the mangosteen. Which became my newest object of desire. What a peculiarly composed fruit, and what a deliciously different flavour. Fruit in general are lovely, and refreshing, imparting a sweetness which is enjoyable rather than lusty-worthy. As much as I love mangoes and the like however, this was incredible. Deeply sweet with hints of honey and awesome and more unbelievable things, it was unlike anything I had ever tasted. I immediately fell in love. Yet, some had to be left for the other thousands of visitors so I promptly left, vowing to purchase some from one of the stalls - not before sampling some dragonfruit which tasted as per the one I purchased a month earlier, of water. Ironically, most of these fruit are a common site in Saudi Arabia, only now have I been enlightened to their awesomeness. So essentially, 25 years wasted. All I say to that is, at least its not 26 years, or more. HAH. Optimism. It's delusional. 

Deciding that the last final stalls behind the Road of Dieters' Worst Nightmare were not worth much, I made a final recognition tour through the pathway, largely to give an overview of what I should try when I had money in hand, so as to not fund their children's college funds with overindulgent spending. That did not last long, for after drawing the money I was confronted with a quaint little ice-cream stand, away from all the Thai based festivities, nothing of interest I thought to myself.

No idea why I bought it. Actually, I do. I was guilted. Guilted by the vendor with Alopecia and his slightly camp ways. Groan. It was nice though, the bits of ginger especially so, it is however, very much beyond the point.



Awash with incredulous hate of my ineffective power of will, I gingerly [infused by the ice-cream, obviously] made my way back to the gates of the fair. With its myriad of bustling, devious, delicious calorie traps. Firstly requiring a drink to quench my...well, not thirst, as I think its now academic to claim that I consume by need, I headed towards the first of my restraint downfall enabling stalls for something that had caught my eye. 
  • Lod Chong [ลอดช่อง] - Jackfruit & Pandanus Noodles in Coconut Milk
Essentially the same as the drink I had tried at the last fair, this one however included Jackfruit - enough variation to warrant sampling, if any excuse were needed. This was unfortunately rather mediocre, tasting oddly of barbecue lighter fuel blocks more than anything, which was perhaps slightly ironic as some Health & Safety minions were interrogating the stall when I was ordering. Which distracted the per son serving me from including any of the pandanus noodles. The predominance of ice cubes also robbing away much inclusion of any coconut milk, in stark reminder of University bar serving mannerisms of drinks. Yet I would return back to them later on.

After my gasoline infused beverage however, I was still left particularly parched, so I descended upon an area of previous interest, that had escaped my former round of scouring by dint of my squandering of my coinage. Not content with buying normal, mundane, drinks, I chose what sounded the most enticing/least likely to induce diabetic epilepsy.
  • Nam Grajiab [น้ำกระเจี๊ยบ] - Roselle Tea

Served in a small plastic bag with a straw inside, I was rather intrigued, and also slightly perplexed at the practicality of this serving method, instantly giving up all thought of taking its picture, settling for just the container. Drinking away, I found it rather quite ok; refreshing, and not overtly sweet. It had a slight tannic [really, from TEA?!!], almost hibiscus-like quality to it. A quick search on Wikipedia would also verify that Rosella/Roselle is a genus of the hibiscus family. And now I know. Quite a subtly pleasing drink, and only noticing now that it really did quench the thirst. Apparently it rejuvenates body and mind. Both lost causes in my case.

This latest of purchases thus signalled my official, though largely meaningless at this point, pursuing of lunch. Which promptly began with this.
  •  Sai Krok Naem [ไส้กรอกแหนม] - Slightly-fermented Thai Sausage

Beginning with the "starters", I initiated with these Isaarn Sausages, which I believe to be slightly fermented, a notion enforced by the vendors noting that they are "slightly sour". And they were. Other than that, there was nothing particularly outstanding about them. They certainly will not ward off vampires like the sausage from the last fair. A case in point evidenced later in the day, when there was a group of happy, black leather clad individuals that did not vaporise as I walked past them. Regardless, they were inoffensive enough, and so I progressed along the line of stalls.

Before I lost further focus, I progressed further to appease this initial stage of this abominable feast, struggling for choice and attempting to restrict ultimate volume somewhat. Not helped by the fact that several stalls had decided to group their starters in an appeal to cause a chain of gastrointestinal explosions no doubt. Being denied with this fact of breaded crab claws, I came across this following morsel.
  • Tao Hou Tod Sod Sai Moo [] - Deep-fried Bean Curd stuffed with Minced Pork


Generally in the past I had avoided any form of tofu, passing it off as hippy food [well, rightfully so] and essentially tasteless and not worthy of my consumption. Obviously a rather well informed and open-minded individual at that point, not basing opinions on the treacherously bland and inane variants of tofu included in cheap Asian food. Never. However, in a quest to de-ignorant myself, I have lately broadened on this notion, starting with a delectable Tofu dish at Tombo at the Sake Tasting of Destiny. And this. It was deep-fried. Therefore, viable. In saying that though, beyond adding crunch the tofu itself did not add much to the pork filling, but it was pleasant nevertheless, in essence being similar to a spring roll, but crunchier and without the slight doughy taste of the pastry. Which is a shame, as I heart doughs and pastries. I loathe the starch though. 

Leaving the stall behind, I ventured out for perhaps another starter or two, before I create an intestinal blockage for the main course. 

I then came across this vendor, ready to devour some shrimp. Then I decided that I had already finished my starters after consuming the metric tonnage seen above and walked on.
  • Tao Hou Tod [] - Deep-fried Tofu
That notion did not last terribly wrong, happening upon the ebullient barbecue pork lady. I figured it would be rude to not at least ingratiate her recognition with another purchase, so I went with something different. Moar tofu. Whilst ordering, I also noticed that she gave me an extra tofu block, though for the price, almost rightly so [/end ingratitude]. Pleased, and into the mouth. Where again, a nice crunchiness gave way to a nicely springy texture of. Not much. Perhaps a little earthiness, but inherently little else. Not to say it was devoid of any notion of interest, it is strange, it is a pleasure to eat more through its texture and obviously by dint of being deep fried, rather than of any spectacular notion of taste. Or even a hint of one. With that swiftly devoured, exclusive of the bamboo skewer - I have a modicum of standards - I figured now was as good as time as any to proceed to the main course. 

Not just a good time, a necessity. Or I would find other excuse to keep adding to my "starters". Ending with giving birth to a food monstrosity in the coming week. Which is where the issues came in. In comparison to the fair at Danson Park, this was far grander in scale, and quite contrarily to what I thought would be the case, offered much less choice. Almost all the stalls offered the usual ubiquitous curries, sides and rice dishes. Not a single place offered anything much distinct, no viscera soup anywhere! Though in saying that, one stall did have a variety of "meat" soups which seemed to contain parts rather than meat, though the vendor was being rather coy and shy and denying me of hunger gratification. Perhaps with the larger scale, the need to be more mainstream rather dullened the spirit of authenticity and adventure in the cookery. Despite this, the uttering of how particular dishes looked and smelled was noticeable, only serving to uphold the general narrow mindedness of the country. I am a fan n'est pas ^_^.

In the end my choice fell down to two - one stall offering a Catfish & Bamboo Shoot curry, as I had never tried catfish, and there was no mention of a traffic light curry listing, and another stall offering a yellow curry and thus falling back into choosing from the traffic light curry listing. The slight pessimism in that connotation should pave the way to my ultimate choice. 
  • Gaeng Som Plah [แกงส้มปลา] - Sour Yellow Fish (Catfish) Curry with Bamboo Shoots
[The Upper One]
Ruing the decision to go with rice immediately, in all its evil high GL glory, I took a moment to savour the aroma. It was. Interesting. Rather potent. Fragrant. Evocative of a fish market. Lovely. And attacking a spoonful of the bamboo shoot, I at once experienced, a facial implosion. It must be said that I had no idea that this was actually known to be a Sour Curry when choosing it. Holy Carp if that is a perfectly literal description. It was Deputy of sour. Almost caustic. Yet, almost additively so. Not sure what it is about sourness that just stokes my taste buds - perhaps this curry should be done with bitter melon, it could then be used as a weapon, or an industrial acid. Moving onto the fish, I was less impressed however, being filled with bones - yes, littlest violin playing to my quip - and providing some of that previously mentioned aroma to the palate. It was not atrocious, but as a whole the curry was perhaps rather less enjoyable than the divinity coconut-based curries. Though, I suppose it is another curry experienced and now noted. I have to seek what other variants exist, as I literally have not a clue of the variations, other than one [possibly yellow] being maybe peanut based. Hmm. 

Figuring I had been enough of a glutton thus far, and restricting myself to the one main course, it was obviously, time for a dessert. Or twelve. For now trying to keep the Rumwong stall out of mind. Not helped by the boxes of Khanom Wans left out on display, several of them new to the hoard I had previously purchased. Heathens. Not before however, I washed down the meals of Christmas Eatings just passed. So I returned once again to the stall that started it all. That initiated the incessant fire of greed in my belly. And who now were tied for a win and a lose from the prior two visits. 


  • Chao Kuai [เฉาก๊วย] - Grass Jelly Drink
Seemingly a pervasive sweet treat in a lot of South East Asia, grass jelly is something that has always perplexed me. In being made of grass, why is it not green? Why does literal breakdown of its name not figure? It does not compute, and when savouring the grass jelly "bubbles" from the Bobacha a few weeks ago, I did not note grass. Just a hint of something, "fresh". Maintenant, my curiosity was peaked, and I figured I should just go ahead and actually purchase everything this stall had to offer. It was a small stall, honest! Surprisingly, or maybe not, it seems the memory of my gluttony persists for weeks as evidenced by some of the vendors, the stall recognised me and promptly issued me the drink for free. Again. Gluttony. Merits. Word. Again, the drink was made of ice, and slurping away, I was met largely with what I met with the Bobacha pearls. Albeit sweeter. And in liquid form. I have a knack for this stating of the obvious. Which is to say it did not pose any surprises, and once the glacier's worth of ice was disposed of, the jelly noodles provided a touch of entertainment. "Thirst" quenched, focus redirected to shedding a limb or two through diabetreats! 

Again, ignoring the existence of the Rumwong stall of Khanom Win for now, no stall was actually offering up sweet treats, barring the couple. So it would make sense to test their wares and get into a seizure. The first stall I approached offered up two options, which were duly ordered. 


  • Khanom Krok [ขนมครก] - Coconut Rice Mini-pancake Dumplings
Yes, more of those delightful coconut-infused pancakes. I had reason this time round. These ones were green. Ordered amidst a litany of giggles at my foreigner-ravaged pronunciation [I never understand why pronunciation can be cause of such hysteria, I just find it tenuous. I'm not pride-hurt.], and denying the offending vendor of inclusion in the picture, I quickly devoured just the one whilst my second dessert was being readied. This one was slightly different in composition, being more of a pancake to the other ones' little pastry cup. As such it was immediately fuller in form, with a rather enticing prevalence of onion, creating a rather interesting melange of flavours. It was also more of an omelette type pancake, providing more substance and just being a different delight to the one sampled before. Thus, devouring, justified. Only the one however, I had already consumed five of the other. 

Following round to the side of the stall, I was then introduced to the second of my objects of desire. 


  • Roti [โรตี] - Southern Thai Flat Bread (with Taro filling)
Roti. I.e. flatbread. I've reached the zenith of adventurism. In a quest to administer some authenticity I also opted for the taro filling, which came in a rather delightful shade of lilac. Whilst not certainly being a complex dessert at all, it certainly was enjoyable. Especially so. It would only be obvious to state that I essentially inhaled this dessert too, struggling to be patient enough to place the plate down for the picture. Whilst not entirely sure if the roti was actually freshly made or reheated from a packet [not particularly caring], it was regardless lovely - just crunchy on the outside, whilst the inside was soft. The taro paste was lightly sweet, and a bit rich, like a sweet potato, which lent itself well to the lightly toasted flavour of the roti. Apparently roti's are quite a popular sight on Thai Streets, with vendors offering up myriad toppings, according to a random lady, perhaps working at the stall. 

Contented with the added sweetness to the growing intestinal blockage I had been creating throughout the day, I braved the prospect of returning to the Rumwong stall. For a purchase. Backbone, do not abandon me now. In saying that though, in the circa 4 dozen times I stalked, stared, and forced myself to walk on from the Rumwong stall, I noticed - gleefully! - that there were few new choices abound in their stock. Which made the drawing up to the stall a much more painless procedure, selecting the three treats that were new and untried as of yet, saying much about the destruction I wrought previously seeing as I could only find such a minimal number not yet experienced treats out of an entire stalls' inventory. With that purchase culminated, and walking past the same gargantuan of Ruam Mit casting its heinous, tempting aura, I emerged, painlessly. Surviving that, I felt confident for another hit of sugary sustenance and went to uphold a former promise, largely of substantiating ongoing waistline expansion construction works.


  • Itim Thurien [ไอติมทุเรียน] - Durian Ice-Cream
Despite not being of the fresh variety, I was enamoured enough with the insight given by the previous tasting to give the ice-cream a try. Again, "convincing" is predominantly just for superficial value. I figured as well, should my quest for Durian become a bust, the ice-cream would at least provide a modicum of retribution. More delusions. In tasting, it was quite different. I am rather notoriously useless at articulating hints and nuances of flavours when sampling a drink or food, and this time is no difference. I could say the ice-cream was particularly creamy, and then confirm that water is also indeed wet. I cannot really pinpoint the flavour of the ice-cream, but it was regardless enjoyable. That's not just the sugar talking either. As to how indicative it is of the taste of durian, I do not quite know, as there was no putrid aroma to make me bow to my knees, and it was certainly not home-made, or at least I do not think it was. 

Walking along, enjoying the ice-cream, I walked past the epic Sticky Rice lady once again, this time with no actual intention of purchasing anything [I had already done so], whereupon she dragged me over and handed me yet another enormous handful of sticky rice, insisting to my feeble attempts at refusal - I was just being polite. Just like that, I then had. 
  • Khao Neow Ma-Itim Thurien [ข้าวเหนียวมะไอติมทุเรียน] - Durian Ice-Cream with Sticky Rice!
Mo' Sticky Rice. Mo' Better! The facepalmfull of stick rice quite obviously worked in divine harmony with the ice-cream, providing the added texture, slight coconut-nuance, and mixing-in of savoury hints the inevitably led to the concoction in palm meeting my face. Once again, despite being a cardinal sin, on this day, I have evidenced that gluttony, truly has its merits. Just keep me away from any mirrors. 

This brief insight into the growing obsession of durian was not enough though, and I needed the authentic article. I need to sample the most vile smelling of foods, and after having eaten viscera soup, I was more than confident of being able to stomach it. Unfortunately, the only stall selling wholesale fruits sold the durian as a whole. At £12. No thank you. No mangosteens either. I had that much money, but it could be important should I happen across an emergency dessert or other object of desire. As a last resort, I ventured towards the fruit tent of before in a hope that at least they would sell me some mangosteens. However, the fruit was not for sale, it was merely for giving out samples of, despite the towering boxes abound. In recognition of my audacious need to eat, and possibly fearing for her consumption though, the chirpy girl graciously handed me a couple of mangosteens as a gift. Need I mention. Merits. Etc. With that obtained, it was time for one last walk through the parade of broken stomachs, after buying a treat for a friend, before I departed from this most exaggerated of feasts. I did however, have an ulterior agenda. 

Seeing as how this festival was in relatively close proximity of one Rumwong Supermarket, the originator of the stall of destiny/death by dessert, I figured it would downright rude, if not opportune, to seek out perhaps a hidden Khanom Wan or twelve, straight from the source. Hopefully also stumble across some durian. Carpe Diem et al. Duly arriving but a mere 15 minutes later, I walked into the diminutive store, whereupon I instantly questioned the cashier - "Durian, WHERE?!". Tragedy struck when he clamoured that they had none in store, producing only a tube of durian paste as a frankly atrocious alternative. Undeterred however, I walked round the store to investigate for my other motive. There, I happened across a small bar fridge, wherein were stacked a few familiar boxes. Peering closer, slightly salivating, I was let down by the recognition of having already tried those desserts. I don't think I quite apprehend the scale of what I destroyed that first Thai Festival, as it would seem I would struggle to find something I did not consume. 

Questioning the well-spoken youth behind the counter, I came to find out that it was actually his mother than made the desserts. By hand. Each and every one. Specifically for the festivals. Instantly, admiration flew through. She basically subsisted my greed for two festivals in a row and created a beast of obsession. In between words I also noticed a few boxes in the refrigerator of that odd looking familiar yellow flesh - I did not need to creak open the box and faint to recognise that I was in the presence of durian. I will have to unleash some durian breath onto the cashier for attempting to sell me toothpaste. Professing my love/disdain for the individuals' mother, I confessed my burgeoning loving long-time of the shop, and its creation of a new stalker in me, before skipping away happily with my piece of stinkfruit. I will. Be back. I finally returned home, to bask now in the temptations of what I had brought back with me. 

~ Those which made it back ~

Moderate restraint - now with added fruit
  • Mangkhud [มังคุด] - Mangosteen


Immediately enamoured when I sampled them at the fair, ecstatic when I got a couple to savour back at home. Perfect timing for my afternoon fruit snack as well. Deliciously sweet, slightly floral, all awesome. 
  • Gluay Kaek [กล้วยแขก] - Sweet Banana Fritters

Despite being composed of banana, strangely enough, and thus being of high Glycaemic Load and all things evil and questionable manhood, I still figured it should be something that needed trying, considering especially its ubiquity. Not expecting much, seeing as beyond being a battered and fried piece of banana, there was not much else to it, I was pleasantly surprised. And disgusted as a result. Despite being a few hours away from purchase, they remained gloriously crisp, giving way to a sweet and soft banana filling [yes, the obvious, I state it] which was generously aromatic. Then the highlight - the little sesame seeds embedded into the batter combined their smoky, toasted flavouring to the whole ensemble, creating a delightful aroma. The sesame seeds seemingly lifted this beyond the merely nice, to the outright pleasant. The sesame seeds made this fritter disgustingly addictive.

Even several days after purchase now, they still remain crunchy. And hard to resist. My ruination, it is quite obvious. 
  • Khanom Krok [ขนมครก] - Coconut Rice Mini-pancake Dumplings

Nothing much more to add, other than them tasting just as delicious when cold and slightly aged. Perhaps maturing into a fine aged krok ^_^.
  • Khao Neow Ping Sai Puak [] - Steamed Taro-filled Sticky Rice Parcel in Banana Leaf

Not yet sampled, tentatively waiting in lieu of devouring in the freezer, though I'm fairly aware of what to expect. Sticky rice, therefore, awesome. Not a hasty judgement at all, just a premonition. 
  • Thurien [ทุเรียน] - Durian


*Gasp*. True story about the peculiarity of the smell of Durian. It smells dead. Which to an extent, it is. It also looks rather unborn. This was all expected however and undeterred, I sectioned off some of the oddly creamy flesh. This creaminess quite strangely continues on into the taste, with a peculiarly milky sensation. Unfortunately some of the "delightful" aroma carries on as you eat, the fruit right at the tail-end but not to a degree that makes you gag and faint. It is extremely rich, ever so slightly almost sickeningly so, no doubt bolstered by that fierce perfume, but in as well, almost decadent. Pinpointing a familiarity was difficult, perhaps a slight hint of mango in the tail flavours, but everything else is unique, in the creaminess and downright heavy richness.

Prospects much improved a couple of days later when most of the vicious smell had subsided, including the resultant aroma. This fruit is begging to be tried in fresher examples, and perhaps with sticky rice and coconut milk, to at once, add epic to the already creamy and rich fruit. 


  • Khao Niew Tua Dam [] - Black Soya Bean in Sweetened Coconut Milk with Glutinous Rice
Another of the new detainees from the Rumwinong stall, a not overtly elaborate dessert but certainly a very hearty one. Seeing as how it had leaked everywhere, the only sampling I got thus far was in the "clean-up", licking up the overspills. It. Was. Delectable. No more has to be said about sticky rice than what is already known, but the sweetened coconut milk this time steeped with black soya beans had gathered an altogether earthy, bean-quality, which made it a rather comforting sort of dessert. I am saving this one for a breakfast, as with all the carbohydrates and the added protein of the soya beans, it can only surmount as an epic morning meal. 


  • Khanom Chun? [] - Pandanus & Coconut Jelly
Not entirely sure what this dessert is, and in not trying it, have no judgement - likely exclusively appraising - on its nature. I believe the vendor girl mentioned that it is not made of rice flour like with khanom chun, and thus not as sticky, thereby leading me to think it could be a jelly variant. Nevertheless, its devouring is nigh. 


  • Khao Niew Sangkaya [ข้าวเหนียวสังขยา] - Sticky Rice with Custard Topping (plus two others with shrimp and onion toppings respectively)
One of my first purchases of the day, from the stall that would see me purchasing one of each of their entire inventory, and no doubt influenced by the epic variant of which I tried from the last fair, these cute little morsels had the added benefit of variance. More choice, more better. Trying all three however I was left perhaps somewhat disappointed. Maybe they were just too petite to impart too much of an indulgent lashing of flavour. Or perhaps they were just lacking, but not much was experienced from any. A slight sweetness of the rice met a rather bland custard in the sangkaya version, a slight onion hint with the black rice version, and not much in the yellow rice version topped with the shrimp. I will reserve verdict till I try them again, perhaps my tongue being overwhelmed by the gorging of other delectables at the time, but these were on the whole rather disappointingly unmoving. Meh.


  • Takoh [ตะโก้] - Coconut Cream Jelly (with Water Chestnut & Taro fillings respectively)

Epic Sticky Rice-Lady provideth again. This time she provided dessert. She over-provided. Not even dropping them and making a mess, and thus allowing scope for a sly pre-taste, could deter the treats from being absolutely spectacular. Much the same as the versions I tried from the Danson Fair from the Rumwong stall, these were a divine amalgamation of indulgently creamy coconut custard, giving way to a sweet, scented jelly. However, the differences came in the toppings. Whereas the previous versions included a few sporadic kernels of sweetcorn, these contained water chestnuts, and taro. Whilst the ultimate nature was not significantly altered, they did imbue their own character. The water chestnut takohs delivered that rather curious crunch from the water chestnut, with its slight bamboo shoot like taste/texture giving way to the same awesome of the takoh. Similar the taro-filled version replaced the crunch, with the chewiness of the taro, with its light starchy earthiness making for a sublime treat. Currently eating these one at a time with breakfast, it is as much as I can do to refrain from devouring them whole. 

~~~~

So concludes yet another fair. Yet another enlightening experience. Yet another excessive indulgence. And for all its grander scale and content, this fair was perhaps a slight disappointment in regards to the eye-widening experience of a couple of weeks ago. Obviously you would not tell by the sheer volume consumed in my voracious scouring as depicted above, but I felt that as a broadening of the exploration of Thailand's cuisine, this event was perhaps more lacking. In its scale, it also seemed to cater more to the scale of the clientele - it was seemingly aimed at mainstream tastes and notions of what is known of Thailand's food. And as such, not much was found beyond the ubiquitous, the well known, and the generic. Granted, it was not exclusive as such, but for the sheer size of the event, I found there to be much less variance than the much smaller event at Danson Park. Surprisingly, this made obvious by the son of the epic-dessert lady of Rumwong, who clamoured when I questioned if any special or different treats were available, that they typically don't venture too far from the "normal" desserts, by dint of the customers not knowing what they are. And naturally, predominantly not trying - not everyone is as driven or greedy as I.

Perhaps this is a mixed blessing, as I know with the lack of restraint shown today, I certainly would have created an explosion large enough to create a gravitational void and a resultant black hole in my wake, had I been provided with variety. And whilst I did further some insight into the culinary scene of Thailand, albeit from the tenuous notions of aimless eating, and as an outsider, away from the country of origin, I still leave amidst a pang of disappointment. It is not all lost though. Au contraire. This just fuels my need to continue exploring, to continue venturing. To keep experiencing the multinational delights available. And whilst my waistline has suffered greatly at the hands of these fairs - and more directly, at my complete lack of restraint therein - it was also rather evident, that these greed, came with its merits, or fans as it were. I now require an extended absence of leave from these food fairs, disastrous as they are to enabling my lack of forceful restraint. Well. After tomorrow's Caribbean Carnival..

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