At a recent holiday party I got pulled into a conversation about why Belgium is such a fantastic country to visit. According to the Belgium buffs, it possesses everything that anyone could ever desire — quaint cities, beautiful architecture, first rate art, few tourists and loads of excellent food including Trappist beer, fries, mussels and chocolates.

While I wouldn’t rank Belgium as my top vacation spot, I do enjoy much that this historic land and the headquarters of the European Union has to offer. Of course, I love the aforementioned art and architecture. I likewise adore the world class chocolates and beer. What sells me on Belgium, though, is its waffles.

Sold throughout the country in cafes and on street corners, waffles are believed to be a spin-off of the medieval Flemish wafer. Like their small and crisp predecessor, these honeycombed cakes are cooked between two greased, patterned, metal plates.

Originally, folks pulled out their waffle irons only on special occasions. In fact, during the Middle Ages parents of a newborn girl would often receive an engraved one as a gift. It was expected that the daughter would take this press with her when she married and left home. Although still just as celebrated, today waffles irons are bestowed and waffles are consumed at any time or occasion.

Belgium produces two distinct types of waffles — Brussels and Liege. Rectangular in shape and airy in texture, the Brussels version is what Americans refer to as a Belgian waffle. Unlike in America, where this waffle is drenched in maple syrup, in Belgium it gets dusted with a thin layer of confectioner’s sugar.

If given a choice, I make a beeline for Liege waffles. Hailing from the French-speaking city of Liege, these waffles are denser, sweeter and more filling than their Brussels counterpart. Chow down on one of these and you’ll feel as though you’ve consumed an entire meal. Truthfully, when I’m in Belgium, a warm and sugary Liege waffle often is my meal.

Liege waffles get their heartiness from their thick, brioche-like dough. The dough itself is studded with pearl sugar, which caramelizes as the waffle cooks. The result? One of the most divine sweets that I’ve ever eaten.

SUGAR WAFFLES FROM LIEGE
From Ruth Van Waerebeek’s Everybody Eats Well in Belgium Cookbook (Workman, 1996)
Makes 10 waffles.

Note: You’ll need to create two separate batters for these waffles.

For batter 1:
1 1/4 ounces fresh cake yeast or 2 1/2 packages active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 large egg, beaten
1/3 cup milk, warmed

For batter 2:
9 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, optional
Pinch of salt
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 cup pearl sugar or 3/4 cup crushed sugar cubes

To prepare batter 1, dissolve the yeast in a small bowl with warm water and 1 tablespoon flour and sugar. Let stand for 5 minutes until foamy.

Sift the remaining flour into a large mixing bowl. Make a well in the center and add the yeast mixture, egg and milk. Mix well with a wooden spoon to make a smooth batter. Cover with a kitchen towel and let rise in a warm place until the batter has doubled or tripled in volume.

Meanwhile, for batter 2, mix the butter, flour, salt, vanilla, baking powder, optional cinnamon, granulated sugar and pearl sugar into a paste.

Using your hands, work batter 2 into batter 1 until well mixed. Shape the dough into 10 balls approximately 2 1/2 to 3 ounces each. Flatten each ball into a disk and dust lightly with flour.

Bake the disks in a medium-hot waffle iron. Don’t let the iron become too hot or the sugar will burn. Bake until the waffles are golden brown but still slightly soft, 3 to 4 minutes. Serve lukewarm or cooled to room temperature on a rack.

For me Vietnam has never meant cuisine. Born toward the end of the Vietnam – or, as they call it in Vietnam, “the American” – War, I’ve long been fascinated by that war and this Indochinese country. The food? It just didn’t captivate me the same way that the history and culture did. Yet, the more time I spend here, the more I grow to appreciate the background, flavors and techniques of Vietnamese cooking.

Eat in Vietnam and you eat with my nemesis, chopsticks. I have 1,000 years of Chinese occupation to thank for the popularity of these tricky utensils. Along with chopsticks the Chinese also introduced rice cultivation, stir-frying, beef and bean curd to the Vietnamese. Without their influence there would be no pho (rice noodle soup), congee (creamy rice soup), banh cuon (rice rolls) or stir fried meals of any kind. Guess I can forgive them for the chopsticks.

China wasn’t the only country to have an impact on Vietnamese cooking. Nearly a century of French rule resulted in affinities for beer, baguettes, cafe au lait, ice cream, soup stocks and wine. France also brought such crops as corn and tomatoes to the country. Through their efforts I can enjoy a grilled ear of corn, tomato-baguette sandwich, chocolate ice cream or cold beer on virtually any street corner in the country.

Although China, France and neighbors such as Thailand have left an imprint on the cuisine, the food here is still unique. Whether I’m dousing rice with the pungent fish sauce known as nuoc mam or nibbling on the prawn-on-sugar-cane-stick speciality chao tom, I know that I must be eating in Vietnam.

On this trip I’ve had the great fortune of dining in locals’ homes. There’s nothing quite like home cooking. A home cooked meal in another country is all the more special. I love that I’m eating just like the locals do, not like how tourist restaurants and hotels want me to believe that folks eat. Plus, I’m breaking bread with families, sharing in their daily rituals and celebrating their fresh, flavorful cuisine.

What have I been consuming? Relatives of my husband’s step-father have rolled out the red carpet, chilling and cracking open home-grown coconuts to drink and cooking elaborate meals for us to eat. Pork and/or vegetable stir fries, vegetarian spring rolls, chicken congee, banana salad and basil-chicken salad are among the many delicacies. These invariably are accompanied by steamed rice, soy sauce and a simple dressing made from salt, ground black pepper and lemon juice.

What I enjoy most, though, is all of the exotic fruit in Vietnam. Sometimes it’s a banana, mango or longan fruit plucked from a backyard tree. Other times it’s slices of cinnamon and ginger-laced jackfruit or a tartly sweet mangosteen bought at a market. Pineapples, papayas, pomelos and lychees likewise hit the spot on these hot, humid days.

Although I’ve been in Vietnam less than a week, already I’m addicted to market shopping. Found in every city and town, the cho, or market, serves as a one-stop shopping spot for the locals and for me. Forget Western-style grocery stores, which you won’t find anyhow. If you need a new shirt, frying pan, necklace, pound of onions or fresh shrimp, just drop by the local market.

In Ho Chi Minh City I’ve spent hours at the Ben Thanh Market. Built by the French in 1914, this enclosed shopping mall was originally called Les Halles Central. If you’re familiar with Paris or French history, you might recognize the name for Paris also had a Les Halles or “central market halls.” With over 100 vendors in place Ben Thanh is unquestionably the main market hall for HCMC.

What have I found at Ben Thanh? Chopsticks. Chinese-style dresses. Quirky t-shirts. Men’s polos. Silk purses and cellphone holders. Coffee, tea and spices. And that’s just the some of the dried goods, textiles and general merchandise. If so inclined, I could pick up dragon or durian fruit, blue potatoes and even livestock. Highly unlikely that I’d crave a whole, live chicken but, if I developed some strange hankering for one, I could get it here.

Similar to Western shopping malls, markets offer cooked as well as fresh food. When hungry, I can grab a stool at one of the many makeshift cafes and enjoy a bowl of pho (noodle soup) or plate of stir-fried veggies. I can also just buy a bunch of bananas or dried fruit and snack as I browse.

I’d say that all Vietnamese markets are the same but that wouldn’t be true. Traveling south through the Mekong Delta, I experienced a vastly different marketplace in Can Tho. Situated on the Mekong and Can Tho Rivers, this large city is home to a series of floating markets. Vendors literally drop anchor in the Can Tho River and sell their wares from their boats. To see what each vendor has to offer, glance up at the pole on the front of the boat. Dangling from it will be squash, tomatoes, sugar cane and the like. Whatever their speciality is, it will be displayed prominently on this post.

To browse the floating markets, I hopped on a water taxi in Can Tho and puttered downstream to the Cai Rang market. Once there, the taxi cruised around the large boats, stopping whenever I or other passengers wanted to buy something. Smaller vessels paddled up to us and plied us with watermelons, pineapples, cold sodas and beer. Who knew that grocery shopping could be so fascinating?

For lodging in Ho Chi Mihn City, consider the upscale Legend Hotel or mid-range Bong Sen Hotel. Both are within walking distance to Ben Thanh Market.

To pick up a water taxi for the floating markets, head to the Ninh Kiều pier in Can Tho. This is where the majority of boats for the markets are located. The cost should be about $3/hour.

Among all the places that I’ve visited Portugal may become one of my favorites. Along with an abundance of pleasant weather, charming people, beautiful sites, relaxed atmosphere and efficient infrastructure, the Iberian country boasted of some of the freshest cuisine that I’ve found.

In Lisbon Sean and I roamed the cobblestone streets, nibbling on warm pasteis de natas, the custard cream tarts discussed in a previous entry. While bakeries have become a rarity in the States, in Lisbon they appeared on virtually every street corner. In addition to the luscious de natas these shops offered such delicacies as egg-topped Easter loaves, powdered sugar-dusted coconut puffs, almond cookies, honey cakes, crusty breads and small cups of strong coffee or uma bica. Needless to say, he and I both suffered from a major case of bakery envy.

Since we spent much of our time along the coast, we often dined on simply prepared, local seafood such as tuna, mullet, clams, barnacles and bass. Sardines popped up not only in restaurants but also along the beaches, where they were split, placed on wire racks and dried in the sun. While dried sardines didn’t strike my fancy, I did appreciate having them grilled and served alongside a salad of chopped tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers or sauteed greens.

A dried fish that did intrigue me was bacalhau or dried, salted cod. A national favorite, bacalhau must be soaked in water for several days so that it plumps up and loses some of its intense saltiness. Not that this fish won’t seem salty to the uninitiated. Still, most will find it delicious.

In the northern coastal city of Porto Sean and I indulged in the drink for which Portugal and Porto are famous, port wine. Fortified with brandy, this sweet, rich red wine brought a pleasant conclusion to our evening meals. It was dessert with a soothing after effect.

As elsewhere in Portugal, we weren’t far from our food and beverage sources in Porto. Made in the Douro Valley, port wine is blended and aged directly across from Porto, in the lodges of Vila Nova de Gaia. These riverside lodges sample and sell their world-famous ports seven days per week. Needless to say, our visit to Porto included a stroll to and through the lodges.

The Portuguese specialties didn’t end here. Lively yet inexpensive wines, flavorful goat’s and ewe’s milk cheeses, vibrant soups, hearty breads and succulent salt-baked fish all enhanced our time in this lovely land. Great food. Great trip. I cannot wait to return and see — and eat — more of Portugal.

Want an American craft beer such as Ommegang‘s Three Philosophers or Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA? How about an Italian Peroni, English Young’s Double Chocolate Stout or a Belgian Maredsous, Leffe Blonde or Chimay? I could enjoy them all and many more at the lively Old Monk and The Ginger Man.

Drinking all these heady lagers and ales made me think, unsurprisingly, about food and how infrequently I use beer when cooking. Sure, every now and then I pull together a tasty Guinness- or Victory Lager-based cheese fondue. Still, I’ve not spent enough time tinkering in the kitchen and seeing what other recipes can benefit from a bottle of good beer.

Thanks to adventurous friends and restaurants, I do know the pleasures of shellfish cooked in this liquid. Mussels, clams and shrimp all perk up when steamed or sauteed in beer. Pair them with an IPA and molasses barbecue sauce and you’ve got a lip-smacking, finger-licking meal.

Fish not your favorite? Braise pork, sausage, beef or chicken in a pilsner. Use stout as the stock for an incredibly rich chili or beef or vegetable stew. Bake bread from an ale-based batter or cake from a porter-chocolate mix. If all else fails, fire up the barbecue and grill some succulent beer can chicken. The options are endless.

Likewise limitless are the number of books devoted to this subject. When searching for a quality beer cookbook, avoid those with recipes that don’t differentiate between varieties — i.e. “12 ounces of beer” versus “12 ounces of stout, pale ale . . ..” Contrary to the generic instructions, the brew that you choose will greatly influence how your dish tastes.

Until I have more time to experiment and test other beer-infused offerings, I’ll pass along a tried and true recipe for cheese fondue. Needless to say, it goes well with an iced cold beer or two.

VICTORY LAGER CHEESE FONDUE
Serves 2 to 3

3 apples, peeled, cored and cut into slices
juice of a lemon
8 ounces Victory Lager or any well-balanced, German-style lager
2 cups Grueyere cheese, shredded
2 cups Emmental cheese, shredded
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
dash ground white pepper
1 baguette, cut into cubes

Special equipment: Fondue pot and fondue forks or long, wooden or bamboo skewers

Place the apple slices in a bowl and sprinkle the lemon juice over them to stop them from browning.

Pour the beer into a fondue pot and bring the liquid to a simmer over moderate heat. Gradually add the cheese to the pot and stir so that the cheese melts evenly. Cook for 5 to 10 minutes until cheese is completely melted and the liquid is creamy. Add the nutmeg and pepper and stir to combine.

Place the bread cubes in a separate bowl. Serve them, along with the apple slices, for dipping.

As a fan of Indian food, I was bowled over by the delectability of Northern Indian cooking.  Fresh, flavorful produce, heady spices and sweet, locally grown rice all played starring roles in this region’s cuisine. Likewise chicken, lamb, and fish made frequent appearances in non-vegetarian dishes while legumes and nuts dominated the vegetarian fare.  Almost every street cart and restaurant menu featured flat breads such as unleavened chapathi and leavened naan and filled pastries such as the crisp, conical samosa.

Foods that I consistently encountered at home turned out to be staples of Northern Indian diets, too.  Pureed mint-coriander, chopped mango and piquant sweet pickle chutneys appeared at the start of every meal.  Coupled with the chutneys were crunchy, wafer-like papadums, another regular from my U.S. Indian dining experiences.  Even the national dish of Britain, chicken tikka masala, occasionally popped up on menus.  Originating in the UK, this imported entree emphasized such traditional ingredients as garam masala, turmeric, yogurt, ginger, coriander, tomatoes and, of course, chicken.

Along with the usual items were the slightly unusual.  One such curious dish was tandoori aloo.  This vegetarian delight consisted of skinned and hollowed out potatoes stuffed with a combination of mashed potatoes, raisins, cashews, coriander and green chilies.  Once filled, the potatoes were sealed, skewered and roasted in a tandoori oven.  A bar snack that particularly piqued my interest was the puffed lotus seed or makhana.  Puffed just like popcorn, these substantial, salty nubs proved the perfect partners for a cold Kingfisher lager or chilled glass of chardonnay from the India’s own Sula vineyards.

My favorite dish inevitably had “dal” somewhere in its name.  From the famed Bukhara restaurant in New Delhi came the eponymous “Dal Bukhara.”   Consisting of a rich blend of black lentils, tomatoes, ginger and garlic, this fragrant dish was simmered over a charcoal fire and then dressed with a dollop of cream and unsalted butter.  At Niros in Jaipur Dal Peshawari contained whole yellow lentils, chopped onions, tomatoes and fresh coriander.  Served with a side of fluffy basmati rice, Dal Peshawari made my night.  In Agra at the Bellevue and its sister restaurant Esphahan I had the best dal dinner of the trip, Dal Tadka.  Similar to the dal at Niros, Dal Tadka included yellow lentils, tomatoes, onions and fresh coriander.  Chopped ginger, green and red chilies, cumin, tumeric, lemon juice and chili powder gave this dal a dash of excitement and complexity not found in the other dishes.

Back at home I struggle to find food as enticing as what I ate in Northern India.   Here the dals seem watery, the naan leathery and the chutneys stale.   With little hope of recapturing that culinary magic in an American-based restaurant, I’ll steer clear of those disappointing experiences for a little while.  Instead I’ll try to master my all time favorite meal, dal tadka.

DAL TADKA – Courtesy of Narayan Rao, executive chef at The Oberoi Amarvilas in Agra, India

Serves 2

1/2 cup yellow lentils

1 1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/4 teaspoon cumin seeds

1/4 teaspoon black mustard seeds (my addition)

3 tablespoons onion, chopped

1 teaspoon ginger, chopped

1 teaspoon green chili pepper, chopped

1 plum tomato, chopped

1/8 to 1/2 teaspoon red chili powder

handful fresh coriander, chopped

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 whole red chili, optional

In a sauce pan bring the yellow lentils, turmeric, salt and 3 cups of water to a boil.  Skim the foam off the top, cover the pan with a lid and simmer over medium-low for roughly 1 hour.  When finished, the lentils will be soft and broken down.  Remove the pan from the heat and set aside.

In a medium sauté pan heat the oil.  Add the cumin seeds, black mustard seeds, chopped onion, ginger, and green chilies.   Saute until the onion browns and then add the tomato and sauté it for 1 minute.  Add the red chili powder and boiled lentils to the cooked onion-tomato (masala) mixture.  Check and adjust the seasonings as needed.  Finish the dish with chopped coriander, fresh lemon juice and optional whole red chili.  Serve with a side of basmati rice.

After two weeks in India Sean and I craved a break from the terrifying traffic, 100+ degree heat and constant crush of peddlers, beggars and people on the streets.   We found respite not at an ashram, on the beach or even in the Himalayas.  Instead we ended up decompressing in a completely different country, Malaysia.

A brief work assignment had brought us to the ultra modern and immaculate capital Kuala Lumpur.  Although I had been a little skeptical about the destination — I had hoped to make it not to Southeast Asia but to Nepal on this journey — this city of two million quickly won my heart.  With law-abiding drivers, 90-degree weather and subdued pedestrians KL provided us with both a figurative and literal breath of fresh air.

On our first day in Kuala Lumpur we wandered over to the verdant Perdana Lake Garden.  Talk about a refreshing stroll!  Number of Malaysians who accosted us on our 15-minute walk to the public park?  Zero!  Number of times that we jumped out of the path of deranged drivers barreling down the wrong side of the road into oncoming traffic?  Once again, nil!

Inside the tranquil garden we followed a well-marked, paved path to the KL Bird Park.  The world’s largest free flight, walk-in aviary, the KL Bird Park housed over 5,000 birds and 50 different species.  Ninety percent were indigenous to Malaysia.  From the multi-colored lories and parrots to the milky white storks and pink flamingos all were spectacular to see.

High points of the KL Bird Park?  Taking photos of the petite but plump conures, prancing peacocks and surreal hornbills.  Watching Sean feed the bold lories.  Watching a staff person feed fish to the yellow-billed storks.  Sitting down at a cafe table and eating ice cream bars in the quiet and pristine park.  What a pleasant and relaxing afternoon!

More bustling but no less pleasurable was the night market on Petaling Street.  To reach this open air market, we took the subway to Chinatown and walked one block to the crowded, pedestrian-only area.  There we found endless aisles of produce vendors, coffee roasters, shoe and clothing salesmen, tchotchke shops and Southeast Asian restaurants.  Anything that you could possibly want, including exotic fruits, knock-off Fendi purses and miniature replicas of the Petronas Twin Towers, you could buy at the night market.

We couldn’t visit Kuala Lumpur without seeing the city’s most famous site, the Petronas Twin Towers.  Until the Tapei 101 usurped them, the 88-story Petronas Towers were the tallest skyscrapers in the world.  Although they’ve lost that title, they still remain the tallest twin towers in existence.

Our first glimpse of them came courtesy of the KL Tower, the world’s 4th tallest communications tower.  From the KL Tower’s observation deck we could take in all of Kuala Lumper, including the nearby Petronas Twin Towers.  Our next peek was from a cab during a storm.  Tired of all the teasers, we finally took the subway to KLCC (Kuala Lumpur City Center) and went into the Towers.  As visitors can only travel to the skybridge on the 41st floor and as the Skybridge had reached its limit of visitors for the day, we stuck to the 6-level Suria KLCC shopping mall.  Air conditioning, cafes, high-end stores – the Suria KLCC in the Twin Towers had it all.

Other great sites and aspects of KL?  The Menara Kuala Lumpur or KL Tower was a neat spot.  Situated high on a hill, it appeared taller the the Petronas Towers although, in reality,  it’s not.  Likewise, we relished the light, delicious cuisine, the iced beverages, clean and efficient railway system and slower pace of Malaysia.  Granted, it’s not perfect — take a look at the headlines about the caning of a female, Muslim tourist or the country’s political woes — but for us a few peaceful days in Kuala Lumpur was exactly what we needed.

]]> http://kathylhunt.com/blog/2009/08/27/too-brief-a-trip-to-malaysia/feed/ 0 http://kathylhunt.com/blog/2009/08/20/the-sites-of-jaipur/ http://kathylhunt.com/blog/2009/08/20/the-sites-of-jaipur/#comments Thu, 20 Aug 2009 05:42:46 +0000 Kitchen Kat http://www.kathylhunt.com/blog/?p=383

Jaipur.  The city of 1,001 sites.   Because Sean and I ended up here in the middle of August, when temperatures topped 100+, we tried not to cram too much sightseeing into one day.  Even so, we managed to hit all the must-see spots and not keel over from sunstroke.  (Lugging around bottled water and wearing light clothing did help but not that much.)

Below are a few of our favorite historical sites in Jaipur.   All are on the “tourist trail” so be prepared for the multitude of male guides waiting at the entrance gates.  In some instances having a guide will benefit you but often you will learn just as much by reading the signs posted around the various objects.

Jantar Mahar – Constructed in 1728 by Jai Singh, this outdoor observatory possesses a vast assortment of over-sized astronomical instruments and the world’s largest sundial.  Named Brihat Samrat Yantra or “the King of the Instruments,” the sundial is truly a regal sight.

Amber Fort – This 11th century fortified palace lies 11 kilometers northeast of Jaipur.  Situated on a rocky mountainside, Amber (pronounced “Amer”) has magnificent apartments, courtyards, public halls and a small temple.   Definitely a top tourist attraction.

Jaigarh Fort – One of three forts outside of Jaipur, this 18th century fort has the unique distinction of never being captured.  Beyond this unusual aspect Jaigarh boasts of water reservoirs, residential areas, the world’s largest wheeled canon and spectacular views of the Amber Fort and Jaipur below.

Nahargarh Fort – Built in 1734 by Jai Singh, the Nahargarh or “Tiger” Fort displays a lovely assortment of painted apartments and a labyrinth of corridors leading to and from them.  It also provides good, albeit hazy, views of Jaipur.

Galta – Known as “The Monkey Temple,” this collection of 250-year-old temples is nestled in the rocky cliff on the outskirts of Jaipur.  Two large tanks of spring-fed water draw both the devout and roughly 5,000 monkeys to this site.  At Galta they worship, cleanse themselves and, in the case of the monkeys, splash about and beg for snacks.

City Palace – Another Jai Singh creation, City Palace consists of courtyards, gardens, public halls and other buildings exhibiting a successful blend of Mughal and Rajasthani architecture.  Today, as in the past, the raj (or king) of Jaipur resides here.

Birla Lakshmi Narayan Temple – Erected by a wealthy industrial, this marble Hindu temple sits at the foot of the Moti Dungri Fort.  The intricate carvings and stained glass windows depict events in Hindu scripture.  Beautiful!

Popularly known as the “Pink City,” Jaipur is the capital of India’s sprawling, northwestern state of Rajasthan.  Last week Sean and I spent four days here, exploring the wealth of stunning sites while wilting in the hot sun.  With a population of over five million this busy city offers a little something for every taste — historical sites, bazaars, temples, art, wildlife, Bollywood movies and the ever-present flavorful cuisine.

We found Jaipur to be equally enchanting and exasperating.  The prevalence of cheeky monkeys, loping elephants, camels, kingfisher birds, colorful markets, historic forts, delectable food and beautiful vistas made us fall in love with the region again and again.  Yet, the intense heat (when factoring in the heat index, it’s around 115 degrees Fahrenheit) and overabundance of homicidal drivers, pushy vendors and aggressive beggars left both of us aggravated and spent.

Setting aside the annoyances, I’ll share some of the day-to-day pleasures of our time in this mesmerizing, 17th century metropolis. Think of it as a daily things-to-do list should you ever find yourself in Jaipur.

Feeding the pigeons of the East – It will come as no huge surprise to read that we love animals and that I, in particular, have a soft spot for soulful-eyed, furry creatures.  Thus, you can imagine our mutual delight whenever we spotted and interacted with the ridiculous number of monkeys in this city.  Red-faced macaques were the most common but we also bumped into quite a few easy going, black-faced langur monkeys.  So, so cool!

Learning about other religions – While Hinduism is the predominant religion in India, the devout also co-exist with such faiths as Islam, Jainism, Sikhism, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism and Christianity.  While in Jaipur, we had the privilege of visiting several tranquil temples and of learning a bit about what the followers of Hinduism and Sikhism believe.  Talk about enriching experiences!

Finding a breathtaking sight/site at literally every corner – I’ll write more about this in another entry but I will say that tooling around Jaipur became a non-stop, jaw-dropping event.  Everywhere we looked, we found something new and astonishing to see.

Shopping at the bazaars – You know the stereotype:  women love to shop.  Well, I defy that stereotype by being a browser.  Sadly, I couldn’t do ‘my thing’ and just look around Jaipur’s bazaars.  If I slowed down near a stall or was so daring as to pause or even stop, I’d be crushed by boys and men selling trinkets, women telling me to buy them food and the vendors themselves.  However, when I knew what I wanted — a copper serving dish — and found a vendor willing to sell one at a fair price, the bustling bazaar seemed pretty darned good to me.

Eating delightful Indian food – Imagine that.  Great Indian food in India.  Over the course of our stay we indulged in zesty curries, delicate dals, crisp garlic naan, fluffy Basmati rice and so many otherworldly soups.  Jaipur was an Indian-food-lover’s heaven.  Unfortunately, as we were obsessed with avoiding “Delhi belly,” we steered clear of the street food stalls and stuck with restaurant meals.  I’d like to think that we still had a true taste of India.  At least I hope that we did.

Not being killed in traffic – I know.  It sounds as though I’m ending this on a snotty, ugly American note.  However, not being clipped, scraped or hit full-on by the non-stop, careening cars and trucks was a constant concern.  Consider the fact that in the first hour spent with our cross-country driver JP, he smacked the side of a moving semi, bounced off the truck and then pulled off the guy’s front bumper before screeching to a stop.  Thankfully, we weren’t hurt — not even by the angry mob that clustered around our car — but we did get a quick, early lesson in how terrifying traffic here is.

Imagine a pristine, holy city situated on a clear lake.  Imagine that tranquil spot filled with serene followers gathered together to worship and pray at one of 400 temples.  Imagine how relaxing, pretty and peaceful such a place would be.   Go on.  Keep imagining for the sacred Hindu city of Pushkar is nothing like what you’d expect it to be.

After a jaw-clenching, 3-hour drive from Jaipur we arrived in the dusty, trash-strewn town of Pushkar, population 15,000.  Here the streets are paved not with gold or even macadam but with tourists and peddlers.  The beautiful lake?  Thanks to a dry monsoon season, it is muddy and filled with garbage.

Upon our arrival we quickly caught on to the overall tone of Pushkar.  Visiting a temple?  Buy some marigolds or puffed rice to throw as an offering.  Looking for a trinket to sum up your pilgrimage to this hallowed land?  Buy my wool pashmina, semi-precious stone bracelet, brass Ganesha, leather sandals or mirrored pillowcase.   Just feeling generous?  Then buy me a chapati for lunch.

Although surprising to see in such a spiritual site, the constant commerce on the streets did not rile us.  Rather, it was the blatant shake-down for money by Pushkar’s  brahman priests that left me, in particular, feeling snarky.

Against our polite protestations Sean and I were unwittingly pushed into receiving blessings from two brahman priests.  Each of us paired off with a priest, we sat on opposite ends of the same marble steps and listened while the two young men presented highly different versions of their religion.  Sean’s priest offered prayers to Sean’s ancestors and tributes to those loved ones recently deceased.  My priest discussed how Pushkar’s temples were the result of generous donations from the “English” like me; although I had stated that we were from NY, he repeatedly referred to me as a “Londoner.”

While Sean thought positive thoughts about his family and the planet, I echoed my assigned priest in chants of “Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, Ganesha, I pray to you to give me good job, good fortune, good money so that I can give money to the temple . . ..”   When the priest asked me to chant how much money I was donating — all Londoners give between 3000 to 5000 rupees (roughly $60 to $100) — I explained that I did not know the amount for I had no money on me.

I do not lie to holy men, extorting ones or not.  I had handed my cash to Sean for safekeeping before arriving in Pushkar.   This information did not, however, go over well with my priest.

Rather than play out the ugliness, let’s go back to imagination land.  Let’s imagine that you’ve invited two visiting friends of another faith to attend Catholic mass.  At the end of mass your friends spend a few minutes chatting with Father O’Leary.  After several minutes Father O’Leary turns to your friends and says, “You are both rich.  You must each give me $50 for the privilege of speaking with me about Catholicism.  You cannot give me less than that or else God will curse you for eternity.  Give me the money now and you can go with good will.  $50 each.”

Yes, folks.  I was threatened with bad karma for not donating at least $50 to this priest.  Who knows?  Perhaps this is why, two days later, I came down with Delhi belly.  Then again, maybe not.

Sean likewise was pressed for a generous donation.  He also gave far less than what was demanded.  At least, though, he had a more authentic blessing than I.  As for a customary cursing, well, I trumped him on that one.  Hence, my snarkiness about our time in Pushkar.

I realize that those who have experienced a more heartfelt and sincere time in Pushkar will disagree and perhaps even be outraged by my story.  To them, I offer my apologies.  Unfortunately, we experienced the commercialized side of this sacred city, one that did not leave a very positive impression.