The competition for most eye-catching advertising is nearly as much of a draw as the food in Osaka, Japan’s Dotonbori District.
When the crab restaurant Kani Doraku erected their giant mechanized crab sign back in 1960 they kicked off quite a craze of giant animated… CONTINUE READING >>
The competition for most eye-catching advertising is nearly as much of a draw as the food in Osaka, Japan‘s Dotonbori District.
Several signs are tourist attractions in their own right, especially the giant neon Glico Man, famous for being the first on the block (see him in the video below).
Almost as popular is the mechanical drumming clown, Kuidaore Taro, who stood guard in front of the Cui-daore Restaurant for years.
Since the restaurant closed he has been enshrined at the Nakaza Cuidaore Building, where he draws crowds into the shopping center.
When the crab restaurant Kani Doraku erected their giant mechanized crab sign back in 1960 they kicked off quite a craze of giant animated seafood signs.
Several spectacular giant octopus renditions marking spots for Osaka’s signature dish, takoyaki, vied for our attention.
And a huge blowfish lantern adorned Zubora-ya, a fugu (deadly poison blowfish) restaurant that, believe it or not, we didn’t try.
Even fire breathing dragons beckoned us in for some noodles, but we had that other Osaka signature dish, Udon, for lunch so we passed up their flaming invitations.
While walking along the canal side of the Dōtonbori one of the many barkers that try to persuade every passerby to come into their establishment caught our attention.
In this case our guy wasn’t exaggerating, there really was quite a spectacle taking place inside.
One whole wall of the narrow basement restaurant was an open kitchen, so the food preparation was also the entertainment.
A seemingly choreographed ballet between about a half dozen chefs was taking place before our eyes while every imaginable meat, seafood, fungus, vegetable, egg, or combination thereof, was being whomped onto the enormous grill with flair and panache.
Periodically a sort of cheer, rallying cry, or chant type of unison yell would engulf the staff. We were clueless as to the meaning but completely enthralled.
We opened our order with beef kalbi (ribs), chicken wing, and lotus root stuffed with shitaki mushrooms.
All of these were grilled right in front of us by our own showman / chef and served directly over the counter the moment they were done. Fantastic! We immediately ordered more.
This time we went for beef neck, asparagus wrapped in pork, duck with scallions, and shrimp bread.
Again, perfection, sizzling hot from grill to plate. By the time we had finished we both agreed that this evening had introduced us to some of the best food we had ever eaten. Kuidaore!
Bonjour! It looks like they “filmed” Beauty and the Beast here!
A day of provincial life as it has been for centuries, completely unpretentious. A place where the scent of flowers, coffee, and bread filled the air. Then a surprise.
We came upon a pretty little lane on a really steep hill named Rue Rompi Cuou and discovered that it means… how should we put this?… bust your… no… let’s say Break Your… CONTINUE READING >>
As ships have done since Roman times, the Royal Princess sailed into Toulon Harbor on the south coast of France.
The Romans made this the base for their first province beyond the Alps, Provincia Romana. Nowadays, we just know the region as Provence.
No offense to the city of Toulon, we’re sure it has many fine qualities, but seeing as how we found ourselves in Provence, we figured we ought to get downright provincial, and we couldn’t do that in the big city.
So we boarded a bus for a day of fresh air, flowers, and French countryside in the village of Bormes-les-Mimosas.
The name has nothing to do with champagne or orange juice; the town is all about the flowers and takes its name from the yellow flowering trees that cover the hillsides.
Unfortunately for us, our arrival did not coincide with their blooming, but there were plenty of other blossoms for us to enjoy. After all, the town did win a gold medal for excellence in horticultural displays from Entente Florale.
Since we don’t know our petunias from our hydrangeas, we accepted the flora as a delightful background to our explorations of the medieval village and headed up the hill to the old Chateau that overlooks the town.
What better place to start than at the top?
Le château des Seigneurs de Fos, or the Castle of the Lords of Fos, remains from the time of the Counts of Provence, some eight hundred years ago. But it doesn’t look a day over seven hundred (ba-dum-ching!).
Seriously, it is incredibly well preserved, as is the rest of the town below. So we leisurely navigated the narrow streets and stairways down the steep slope, stopping here and there to while away the morning in a truly provincial manner.
Wow: Did they “film” Beauty and the Beast here?
We had an early start, so the day’s activities were just beginning to stir.
Merchants were sweeping and moving their offerings into the street, homemakers hanging out the laundry, and everywhere the scent of flowers, coffee, and bread filled the air.
Provincial life as it has been for centuries, completely unpretentious, so much so that the first little café we came across was named simply Le Bistro. Perfect.
It was obvious that cars had never used these roadways — there’s no way that they could fit — so we felt perfectly safe walking right down the middle.
We continued down the cobblestones and under several arched gateways, on a street so small it looked like a garden path.
When we translated the name of the little lane, Rue Rompi Cuou, we discovered that it means… how should we put this?… bust your… no… let’s say Break Your Butt Street.
We managed to keep our hindquarters intact and reach the road that we came into town on.
One could say the intersection was at the highway and the bottom of old broken bottom road.
It seemed out of place to see vehicles passing by, but we allowed ourselves back into modern times and followed the road back up the hill to the center of town.
Holding a place of honor in that center is the Chapel of Saint François de Paule.
The Church was built in 1560 and dedicated to Saint Francis of Paola, who is the patron saint of the city.
He earned that distinction after being credited with driving out the plague when he passed through the area in 1482.
A statue of the saint stands in the walkway leading up to the chapel, but inside we found a shrine to another of France’s most beloved saints, Jeanne d’Arc.
Joan of Arc has a special spot in the back of the chapel — and in the hearts of the French citizenry — and she is dressed in a suit of armor standing above a bank of candles so the townsfolk may pay homage.
Just across from the little church we found an outdoor café, perfect for taking a break from our trekking up and down the hillside.
We sipped coffee on the terrace while gazing out on the islands in the blue Mediterranean far below. No wonder they call them Iles d’Or, or Golden Isles, off the Côte d’Azur, or Blue Coast.
The view and the village made for a most serene day, we would even say close to perfect.
The Australian Hinterland surprised us at every turn.
Join us as we admire the beautifully odd Glass House Mountains, learn how to properly to throw shrimp on the barbie, visit a snail (!) farm and take a cooking class from one of Australia’s top chefs… CONTINUE READING >>
Queensland, Australia was certainly a land of surprises for us.
One of the biggest surprises was that just beyond the sun-drenched beaches the province is famous for, there are mountains. After a couple of fun-filled days in Brisbane, we drove just a short distance northwest before the scenery completely changed.
Luckily, by the time we were out of the city traffic, our nerves had slightly settled from our baptism into opposite driving — from the right side of the front seat and on the left side of the road — and we began glancing out at the terrain.
Since we were turning on the windshield wipers every time we meant to hit the turn signal (those are opposite on the steering wheel too) we had a very clear view.
But even with a dirty window it would have been impossible not to notice the Glass House Mountains rising abruptly from the coastal plain.
The eleven stark, stand-alone volcanic remnants were named by Captain James Cook in 1770. When spotting them from the deck of his ship, the HMS Endeavour, he felt that the beautifully odd formations looked like the glass furnaces in his home county of Yorkshire.
Just past the Glasshouse gang we entered what is known as the Hinterland, and the elevation began to rise quickly as we climbed into The Blackall Range.
Unlike Captain Cook’s discovery, these mountains are part of the Great Dividing Range that separates Australia’s east coast from the vast interior and the Outback.
At this point we had a new test of our opposite side driving skills, when the highway became a winding mountain road.
Good thing the pedals weren’t switched around, like everything else, or we would surely have accelerated right over a cliff while frantically trying to mash the brakes.
But this journey wasn’t only about learning new driving techniques, we had a destination, Spicers Tamarind Retreat.
But first, we just had to check out something absolutely unexpected, a snail farm.
Sneaking up on Snails
Owners Mary and Cliff greeted us as we pulled up the gravel drive to their house, a wonderfully preserved Queenlander, which serves as the command center for Glasshouse Gourmet Snails.
We were welcomed onto the porch for a cuppa and a conversation about raising snails. We have enjoyed escargot now and again, but never really gave much thought to where it came from — we were in totally unfamiliar territory.
When Cliff explained how the canned snails we had experienced in the past were vastly inferior in taste, texture, and nutrition to the fresh version, it made sense.
Still, it didn’t really hit home until Mary brought some of the buggers out for us to sample.
Rather than being buried in butter and garlic, these fresh fellas were lightly seasoned, set in a mushroom cap, and cooked for only a few minutes.
We were a little hesitant, its nakedness was a stark reminder of what we were actually eating. Could it be that the butter and garlic (and dipping bread) is the part we actually love about escargot? Uh-oh.
But after our first tentative bite, we discovered a clean flavor unlike any snails we had previously encountered. More, please. Mary was happy to oblige.
Having tasted the difference, we were ready to see how they are raised.
Keeping the little critters confined is a bit more problematic than say, fencing cattle, but they certainly take up a lot less space. The snails roam their range in greenhouse-type buildings where the climate is controlled to be exactly to their liking. At first you don’t see them, then you realize they’re everywhere!
Other than feeding and watching said climate, things pretty much take care of themselves.
Eggs get laid, babies hatch, young snails grow without fear of predators and, when they reach the proper size, they are boxed up live and sent off to market.
It’s a downright peaceful routine that Cliff and Mary have been perfecting here in the Hinterland since 2008, and more than worthy of its designation, the Snails Pace Retreat.
However, we needed to pick up the pace just a bit if we were going to make it to another retreat in time for the special Bar-B-Que waiting for us.
Retreat truly is a perfect description for Spicers Tamarind, hidden away in the high country we felt a million miles from anywhere — except we had all the luxury we could need, and then some.
After checking in, a basket of goodies was delivered, a Thai street style Bar-B-Que, perfectly prepared for grilling on our own private grill.
That’s right, the one right next to our own private hot tub on the deck of our villa.
The feast featured marinated prawns, chicken, and cuttlefish, with potatoes and salads on the side.
We knew that prawns were shrimp, so our biggest challenge was the cuttlefish (we had to Google what it even was!), but Chef Jarrett’s careful instructions guided us through successfully. In addition to advising newbie grillmasters, part of his mission at Spicers Tamarind is to support sustainability in the Hinterland by incorporating locally raised ingredients whenever possible.
We felt so good about the end result that we decided to embark on some fancy presentation action:
Spoiled much?
It doesn’t get much better than chowing down on grilled prawns (we might say “shrimp” on the Barbie — but no Aussie would — they’re prawns Down Under) on a deck in the Hinterland.
Rather than sit around and make fat — as we were inclined to do after such an amazing meal — we headed out into our “backyard” for a bush walk.
As the daylight left the sky, the forest came alive with sounds completely foreign to our ears, the crazy call of the kookaburra being the most otherworldly.
Finally, when all the light was gone, the Southern Cross headed up a cast of thousands, make that millions, of stars that seemed to hang so close we could almost touch them.
Food might seem to taste better outdoors, and fresh off the fire, but the next day we would challenge that notion at the Spirit House Cooking School.
The zen vibes were pulsating as we walked through the Asian-style gardens before our class.
Flamboyant flora surrounding a picturesque pond, and signs warning us about the care and not feeding of water dragons, gave us the feeling that we had somehow left Australia for a moment.
Our lesson, Taste of Vietnam, wouldn’t change that impression much, as we learned some of the finer points of Southeast Asian cuisine.
The geographic proximity of Southeast Asia has influenced the culinary scene of Australia and most restaurants feature a chef’s take on the fare.
After a little safety talk about the use of super sharp knives, we began to prep by slicing, dicing, and chopping the herbs, vegetables, and meats we would be using in our recipes.
Chef Kelly guided us through the process step by step as we prepared our dishes.
Grilled pork belly (pork belly is HUGE in Queensland and it’s freaking delicious) known as Bun Cha Pork; Cha Ca fish fillets served with vermicelli noodles and Nước chấm dipping sauce; Bahn Xiou, a type of savory pancakes with pork and prawns; and finally, a dessert called Kem Xio, which is sweet, sticky rice with ice cream on top.
With the exception of the dessert, fish sauce is a staple ingredient. While we were familiar with it, we had never used it before.
Another element that was new to us was shrimp paste, which consists of fermented ground shrimp and salt. Mighty strong stuff, a little dab’ll do ya!
The end result was an amazing meal, and a few new wrinkles on the foodie side of our brains.
With our horizons, minds, and palates expanded, we felt ready to move on and burn off some calories on our next Australian adventure… perhaps we should jump out of a plane?
Watch your GypsyNesters as we learn to cook yummy Southeast Asian food in Queensland! … See more!
The zen vibes were pulsating as we walked through the Asian-style gardens on the grounds of Spirit House Cooking School before our class began.
Flamboyant flora surrounding a picturesque pond, and signs warning us about the care and not feeding of water dragons, gave us the feeling that we had somehow left Australia for a moment.
Our lesson, Taste of Vietnam, wouldn’t change that impression much, as we learned some of the finer points of Southeast Asian cuisine.
The geographic proximity of Southeast Asia has influenced the culinary scene of Australia and most restaurants feature a chef’s take on the fare.
After a little safety talk about the use of super sharp knives, we began to prep by slicing, dicing, and chopping the herbs, vegetables, and meats we would be using in our recipes.
Chef Kelly guided us through the process step by step as we prepared our dishes.
Grilled pork belly (pork belly is HUGE in Queensland and it’s freaking delicious) known as Bun Cha Pork; Cha Ca fish fillets served with vermicelli noodles and Nước chấm dipping sauce; Bahn Xiou, a type of savory pancakes with pork and prawns; and finally, a dessert called Kem Xio, which is sweet, sticky rice with ice cream on top.
With the exception of the dessert, fish sauce is a staple ingredient. While we were familiar with it, we had never used it before.
Another element that was new to us was shrimp paste, which consists of fermented ground shrimp and salt. Mighty strong stuff, a little dab’ll do ya!
The end result was an amazing meal, and a few new wrinkles on the foodie side of our brains.
With our horizons, minds, and palates expanded, we felt ready to move on and burn off some calories on our next Australian adventure… perhaps we should jump out of a plane?
Retreat truly is a perfect description for Spicers Tamarind, hidden away in the high country we felt a million miles from anywhere… CONTINUE READING >>
Retreat truly is a perfect description for Spicers Tamarind, hidden away in the high country we felt a million miles from anywhere — except we had all the luxury we could need, and then some.
After checking in, a basket of goodies was delivered, a Thai street style Bar-B-Que, perfectly prepared for grilling on our own private grill.
That’s right, the one right next to our own private hot tub on the deck of our villa.
The feast featured marinated prawns, chicken, and cuttlefish, with potatoes and salads on the side.
We knew that prawns were shrimp, so our biggest challenge was the cuttlefish (we had to Google what it even was!), but Chef Jarrett’s careful instructions guided us through successfully.
In addition to advising newbie grillmasters, part of his mission at Spicers Tamarind is to support sustainability in the Hinterland by incorporating locally raised ingredients whenever possible.
We felt so good about the end result that we decided to embark on some fancy presentation action:
Spoiled much?
It doesn’t get much better than chowing down on grilled prawns (we might say “shrimp” on the Barbie — but no Aussie would — they’re prawns Down Under) on a deck in the Hinterland.
Rather than sit around and make fat — as we were inclined to do after such an amazing meal — we headed out into our “backyard” for a bush walk.
It’s impossible to capture how TALL….…and dense the bush is.
As the daylight left the sky, the forest came alive with sounds completely foreign to our ears, the crazy call of the kookaburra being the most otherworldly.
Finally, when all the light was gone, the Southern Cross headed up a cast of thousands, make that millions, of stars that seemed to hang so close we could almost touch them.
Mary and Cliff, owners of Glasshouse Gourmet Snails greeted us as we pulled up the gravel drive to their house, a wonderfully preserved Queenlander, which serves as the command center.
We were welcomed onto the porch for a cuppa and a conversation about raising snails.
We have enjoyed escargot now and again, but never really gave much thought to where it came from — we were in totally unfamiliar territory.
When Cliff explained how the canned snails we had experienced in the past were vastly inferior in taste, texture, and nutrition to the fresh version, it made sense.
Still, it didn’t really hit home until Mary brought some of the buggers out for us to sample.
Rather than being buried in butter and garlic, these fresh fellas were lightly seasoned, set in a mushroom and cooked for only a few minutes.
We were a little hesitant, its nakedness was a stark reminder of what we were actually eating. Could it be that the butter and garlic (and dipping bread) is the part we actually love about escargot? Uh-oh.
But after our first tentative bite, we discovered a clean flavor and texture unlike any snails we had previously encountered.
Having tasted the difference, we were ready to see how they are raised.
Keeping the little critters confined is a bit more problematic than say, fencing cattle, but they certainly take up a lot less space.
The snails roam their range in greenhouse-type buildings where the climate is controlled to be exactly to their liking.
At first you don’t see them, then you realize they’re everywhere!
Other than feeding and watching said climate, things pretty much take care of themselves.
Eggs get laid, babies hatch, young snails grow without fear of predators and, when they reach the proper size, they are boxed up live and sent off to market.
It’s a downright peaceful routine that Cliff and Mary have been perfecting here in the Hinterland since 2008.
And more than worthy of its designation, the Snails Pace Retreat.
