Food - BobCarriesOn

July 24, 2015March 15, 2016

6 foods that help airline passengers retain armrest space

As airline passengers know, one of the biggest annoyances when flying is having to fight for armrest space. But a simple solution, says Bob Payne, Director of Olfactory Experiences for the International Air Transport Association, is for passengers to bring aboard meals and snacks so odoriferous that passengers in the adjoining seats will be more than willing to give up as much elbow room as possible.

“While a small number of passengers [all now on the Terrorist Watchlist] have complained, we are finding that claiming the arm rests by olfactory means is far more benign than the barbed wire, electric-shock devices, and sharpened pencils through the back of the hand that some passengers have employed,” said Payne.

The most effective olfactory space-makers tend to be exotic food items such as Durian, an Asian fruit that is banned from many of that regions airlines, fermented fish, such as Swedish surstromming and Norwegian lutefisk, and fermented bean dishes, including Japanese natto and Korean doenjang, all of which have been described as possessing the aroma of Third World sewage systems on the occasions when they are working even less effectively than usual.

Yet while the exotics can be difficult to get hold of for U.S. and European flights (Spirit Airlines and Ryanair both offer them for an add-on fee), some excellent alternatives are easily available. Here are six of Payne’s favorites:

Over-ripe Cheese

Among the best are Limburger, which is particularly effective when paired with onions, Epoisses, which is banned from public transport throughout France, and Stinking Bishop, which in Britain is said to have a centuries-long tradition of raising the dead.

Tuna Fish

Any fish will do, but tuna is especially evocative of the sanitary facilities of a Grand Banks trawler.

Curry

A nice curry dish heavy on the cumin, coriander, and fenugreek works like a charm for extending your personal space to clear across the aisle and at least two rows in either direction.

Mexican Food

From beans to onions, the ingredients of a suitably malodorous burrito can drive even the most territorial fellow passenger flat up against the window.

Certain Vegetables

Cooked broccoli, cabbage, and asparagus, especially if packed in an insulated container that keeps them warm, exude a smell that says “”What’s it to ya?” To really insure some real estate, ask a flight attendant if he or she will reheat them for you. They won’t, but the possibility will have other passengers begging that the oxygen masks be dropped.

Carbonated Beverages

The stealth fighter of the armrest wars, carbonated beverages cause bloating and, combined with gas-producing foods like Mexican fare and the above-mentioned veggies, create a cone of flatulence that will keep other passengers at a respectful distance all the way into the arrival terminal.

Along with his responsibilities at the IATA, humor writer Bob Payne blogs forTupperware Brands, which he claims sponsored this post.

BigStock Photo

May 7, 2014July 17, 2015

Former cannibals trying to develop tourism misunderstand “finger food”

An indigenous tribe once known for cannibalism but now trying to join the global mainstream by developing its own tourism product apologized today to a group of travel bloggers for a misunderstanding over the phrase “finger food.”

“They had no intention of causing mental anguish among their guests, and certainly had no idea that something as common in their culture as skewered digits would create such a culinary outcry, ” said a tribe spokesman, adding that according to tribal custom giving somebody the finger is considered a great honor.

The travel bloggers, who were on a press trip, and thus assumed to be less willing than most to criticize a free meal, said that despite their efforts to overcome a feeling of uneasiness, concerns had been growing ever since they received a press kit in which the tribe’s new marketing slogan was revealed to be “Host ‘Em, Toast ‘Em, Roast ‘Em.”

“Still, some of us were already tweeting ‘Finger-licking good,’ when we realized that among the yams, taro, and crayfish there actually were fingers,” said one of the bloggers, Bob Payne, of BobCarriesOn.com, the site that has been offering accurate travel news and advice since before Columbus landed at Plymouth rock. “It was almost as disgusting as some of the stuff you see on “The Food Network.”

“Well intentioned or not, commenting on the meal would have been too much, even for an online audience,” said Payne. “And of course we had no choice but to cancel the tribe’s dinner offer, which they said would feature “Foot-longs.”

There has been no word on where the finger food originated. But late yesterday it was reported that a tribe in a neighboring village were gathering weapons and flooding the local beauty saloons with requests for face paint, as if in preparation for war.

November 20, 2012November 26, 2012

In Dominican Republic, beer wears a wedding dress

When traveling, one of the pleasures of trying to translate local expressions into English is that the results sometimes turn otherwise ordinary words into poetry. For instance, in Costa Rica (and some other Spanish-speaking countries) palomita, a word for popcorn, translates literally as “little doves,” which may be the most romantic way ever of describing popped kernels. And in the Dominican Republic, la Bandera not only means “the flag,” as travel writer Bob Payne discovered on a recent trip to Puerto Plata while on assignment for Endless Vacation magazine, but also describes a dish of chicken, rice and beans, because it is served so pervasively that it is as much a national symbol as the Dominican flag.

Payne’s favorite new expression, though, and one he will from now on bring up whenever the beauty of language is discussed, especially if the discussion takes place over beers, is “con la vestida de novia.” It’s what the Dominicans say when you want your beer ice cold, as you almost always do in hot countries, and it translates into English as “With the wedding dress,” a reference, as Payne points out in his Endless Vacation story, to the bottle’s frosty coating.

Travel humor writer Bob Payne, who writes in tandem about destination weddings and beer more often than you might think, is the editor in chief of BobCarriesOn.com, a travel blog that has been sharing accurate travel news and advice since before Columbus landed at Plymouth Rock. His Endless Vacation piece in the Winter 2012 issue.

Among other places to read about Payne’s travels in the Dominican Republic are his on-location look at kite boarding for Endless Vacation and in the September/October 2003 Islands magazine.

October 22, 2012November 26, 2012

As breakfasts shrink, B&B’s may have to call themselves Bed & Bananas

With a continued weak economy forcing B&B’s to put less and less on the breakfast table, some consumer groups are beginning to argue that these small inns should have to identify themselves by a name that more accurately reflects what they are offering.

“It could be Bed & Banana, Bed & Bagel, Bed & Bowl of Cereal, or, based on what we’ve been seeing more and more of, Bed & Boot Out the Door,” said one advocate, Bob Payne, of the Coalition for Something More than Juice and a Roll. “We just don’t think B&B owners have the right to call it something it’s not, any more than airlines have the right to call something leg room when clearly it isn’t.”

Payne said his group is in no way anti-B&B and has in fact been working closely with B&B owners, sticking with suggestions for alternative names that would not require B&B owners to order new stationery.

“And we are working with them in other ways, too,” Payne said. “For instance we’ve acknowledged the importance of Mom & Pop operations by showing owners how they can better profit in these difficult times by cutting out free night stays, or even discounts, for their parents.”

In related news, the Bacon Council of America and the Association of Burrito Makers have both indicated they think the B&B idea might have merit.

October 2, 2012October 13, 2012

How do you know if a restaurant serves tipic food?

You may not be able to judge a book by its cover, especially now that so many books are delivered electronically, which means they don’t actually have covers. But when looking for typical food in a foreign country, you can judge a restaurant by the sign out front. Here’s an example of how it works in the Portuguese capital of Lisbon:

The grammatical correctness and lack of misspellings suggests the proprietors of this restaurant know too much about English to be truly well versed in the local cuisine. Look for owners who probably spent time in Britain or the U.S., and look elsewhere for an authentic meal.

A non-standard word order (to the English ear) and a word that, while understandable, may not appear in any language, is a step in the right direction, especially if there are no photos of the food posted out front.

Promising a local experience in the language of the country is a very positive sign, although the fact that they have to label it typical at all might give you some pause for thought. This does require the ability to recognize the word for food in the local language – or that a group of tables with place-setting on them signify a restaurant.

The real find, of course, is a restaurant with no sign out front, just a hand-written menu taped to the window – even if one of the menu items appears to be a hamburger.

Which brings us to what in just about everywhere in the world, is the most typical food of all.

May 9, 2012October 13, 2012

I’ll just have the chicken

Not long ago, I had an epiphany that arrived with wings. It began with a meal at La Hacienda, a Mexican restaurant at the Fairmont Princess, in Scottsdale, Arizona, where my waiter was not forthcoming with a suggestion for chicken.

Chicken was certainly well represented on La Hacienda’s menu, which is a collaboration between the restaurant’s chef de cuisine, Forest Hamrick, who grew up within a few miles of the Mexican border, and Mexico City native Richard Sandoval, whose interpretation of modern Mexican fare (now expanded to a more encompassing Latin fare) has carried his group of more than 25 restaurants as far afield as Qatar and Dubai.

There were chicken tamales wrapped in banana leaves. And chicken enchiladas divorciadas, so named because of the necessary division between the green and red sauces. And a pan roasted chicken breast version of mole poblano, a Mexican standard he hesitates to call purely traditional only because he doesn’t know how widespread is the practice, employed by Sandoval’s grandmother, from whom he got his recipe, of thickening the mole sauce with crushed animal crackers.

But after the waiter praised my wife and mother-in-law for ordering the lobster tacos and crab enchiladas, the waiter seemed to struggle, even if ever so slightly, with appending “excellent choice,” to my selection, the mole poblano.

It has always been that way, in Istanbul, in Sydney, in a Greek restaurant in New York City. No matter what the culture, I can’t recall a waiter ever recommending chicken from a menu whose aim was to present some version of that culture’s haute cuisine.

“That’s because nobody ever goes to a restaurant to order chicken,” Hamrick told me when they talked after the meal. “It’s on the menu for when the less adventurous people look at everything else and say, ‘I’ll just have the chicken.”

Sandoval, who I met several weeks later at another of his restaurants, Pampano, in New York, agreed. “People always perceive chicken as the inexpensive, safe choice,” he said.

Yet even if chicken is for the less adventurous eater, which I might take issue with, considering myself as risk-taking at table as anyone, having not so long ago made my way, without grimace, through a handful of squirming white grubs I’d uncovered with a whack of my machete in a South American rainforest, La Hacienda’s mole poblano was as good as any I’d had. The accompanying plantains and cilantro rice were a modernizing touch, and the dish’s best-known ingredient, chocolate, was there in just enough measure to have a sweetening effect on the many other, spicy, flavors, but not so evident that you could use it as selling point for a finicky five year old or someone with the culinary inhibitions of one.

And that’s when my epiphany, my moment of insight, came to me.

While featured dishes may tempt a chef to act as if he (or she) is angling for his own television show, chicken allows you to discover how they cook when they are being themselves. You learn something about what’s in their soul, and in the soul of the culture their cuisine represents.

From Hamrick, for instance, you might discover that his soul, when it comes to poultry, is somewhere other than where you might expect it to be. As befits a close to the earth, close to the bone culture that has traditionally found it necessary to use every part of everything that might conceivably go into the oven or pot (cow tongue might come immediately to mind), his favorite part of the chicken is the tail.

“People, including my wife, who is Mexican, think I’m crazy, but after you roast chickens the tails are still left on them, and they’ve got that little bit of cartilage, and fat, that you can deep fry like you would pork, and make tacos out of them. And they are awesome.”

I promised he would try some on his next visit.

And from Sandoval? You might learn that the perceived shortcomings of chicken are what he thinks make it work so well with Mexican dishes.

“Usually the protein is the star,” he says. “But with Mexican cuisine you are adding so many spices, herbs, flavors, depth, you want a protein that’s not going to steal the spotlight, but be a good supporting actor.”

It is why, he says, that mole poblano, with its thick, reddish-brown sauce of chiles and other spicy ingredients, traditionally served over chicken or turkey, is most often considered Mexico’s national dish.

“It is a dish,” he says, “in which the mole is the star, and the protein is more of a bit player.”

As for my epiphany, it gave me a plan. I have decided to pursue that often maligned bird through the cuisines of all counties and countries. My goal will be to look at regions, restaurants, and chefs based on how well, or interestingly, or unusually, they prepare chicken. It is a quest on which I vow never again to feel that I must apologize for placing my order, never again be concerned with the disdain of a waiter when I proclaim, “I’ll just have the chicken.”

It is a plan, Bob thinks, that will really fly.