Light Snacks Will Be Served

Shipwrecked for pork neck. Well, almost.

I'm no sailor. But I do know that when the waves are inside the boat, towering over the boat, and you are getting thrown around like a toy in the boat, that you probably shouldn't be in that boat. This was the case last week, when myself and a very good friend almost took a long, Andaman bath for a dinner of grilled pork and chicken.  Click and read!

Because the piece is more of a narrative than a blog entry, I didn't really get to talk too much about the chicken. It tends to gum up the machinery of a story - in my opinion - when you go from treacherous waters to long-winded descriptions of cooking techniques and tastes.

No worries! By following these terrible directions, you too can experience the delightful flavors of Trang's best barbecue. The stand in question lies just around the corner from this fabulous fountain, which manages to capture the region's endagered Dugongs, mermaids, sea turtles stallions, and (I think) stallion-mermaids all in one dripping wet masterpiece of marble. 

Im-a get a little vague on you right now, because it was starting to rain and we were late when we picked up this barbecue. To get there, you pass this fountain in front of Trang's Deputy Governor's house, head north, and make a left at the first light at the bottom of the hill (man, I need to get into this google map thing). It should be on your left. 

Otherwise, just head to the fountain in the afternoon, look above the rooftops, and see if you can't make out the sweet, grey haze of amazing barbecue. Here's a color shot of the stuff on the grill (my Atlantic piece is in B&W), which was very similar in spirit to the Kansas City style - sweet, a shade spicy, and very smoky. It would've made a mid-westerner proud. Or Gilligan and Skipper.

Isaan Kan Tang

While exploring the old Port town of Kantang, which I also wrote about here, I came across the old train station that marks the end of the Southern Railroad. A little less than a century ago, trains would pull up to the station house and load up with rubber, tin and other commodities that were off-loaded in Kan Tang's port, only two blocks away. These days, a hush fills the small harbor, and trains pick up only a handful of passengers before heading north.

That afternoon, a black curtain of storm lowered fast in front of the mountains, and I was suddenly stuck in the open on my bike. It started to really pour down, so I hopped on and sped off in search of a restaurant. Just behind the station, beside an abandoned railcar, there were a dozen thatch and bamboo huts, and that's where myself and a friend took shelter. It was an Isaan restaurant - an unlikely thing to eat so far south - but they specialized in seafood, combining the wealth of fish squid and shrimp here with the sturdy seasonings of Thailand's northeast. 

At that little outdoor restaurant, they also make one of the best grilled pieces of pork jowl (khor moo yang) I've tasted in Thailand. And that's saying a lot, because I order this dish a few times a week, and Thailand grills some of the best pork around. It was stunningly good - smoky and caramelized without, juicy with lots of fat woven through... 

Enough with words. Take a look... isn't that beautiful?