... Continued from previous post
The River Prawns is what everyone comes for at @baanrabiangnam_rivertreehouse
And they're such pros at it, the prawns come out succulent and a little smokey every single time. So I'm told and now believe. Digging out the bright sunkiss-coloured congealed head juice is all but mandatory, so save that for last. The real deal here though, apart from the picturesque view and signature prawns, there's so much more to this homely riverside experience than one might expect.

Just days prior to the dine - in lockdown, serendipity was on side as we took a rare opportunity to head, just beyond the urban sprawl limit to Nonthanburi. @baanrabiangnam_rivertreehouse
Was the obvious choice, nestled by the Chaophraya River, the multi-storey eatery is built almost entirely of wood, including the chair (bring a seat cushion if you wish to settle-in) and terraces, which makes for the perfect spot for boat and fish watching. During this period there were little diners so we were half expecting that the menu would by downsized and less than fresh as usual, turns out we were only half right. Although some of first choices were unavailable, I believe I've never had a fresher soft shell crab in my life. The batter so delicately crisp as to compliment the tenderness of the crab shell and flesh and that raw Mango dipping sauce! Bloody hell, that's a meal in itself. This dish in some ways almost outshone their signature grilled River Prawn.... (next post)
#BangkokFoodies #baanrabiangnam

【《金融時報》深度長訪】

今年做過數百外媒訪問，若要說最能反映我思緒和想法的訪問，必然是《金融時報》的這一個，沒有之一。

在排山倒海的訪問裡，這位記者能在短短個半小時裡，刻畫得如此傳神，值得睇。

Joshua Wong plonks himself down on a plastic stool across from me. He is there for barely 10 seconds before he leaps up to greet two former high school classmates in the lunchtime tea house melee. He says hi and bye and then bounds back. Once again I am facing the young man in a black Chinese collared shirt and tan shorts who is proving such a headache for the authorities in Beijing.

So far, it’s been a fairly standard week for Wong. On a break from a globe-trotting, pro-democracy lobbying tour, he was grabbed off the streets of Hong Kong and bundled into a minivan. After being arrested, he appeared on the front pages of the world’s newspapers and was labelled a “traitor” by China’s foreign ministry.

He is very apologetic about being late for lunch.

Little about Wong, the face of Hong Kong’s democracy movement, can be described as ordinary: neither his Nobel Peace Prize nomination, nor his three stints in prison. Five years ago, his face was plastered on the cover of Time magazine; in 2017, he was the subject of a hit Netflix documentary, Joshua: Teenager vs Superpower. And he’s only 23.

We’re sitting inside a Cantonese teahouse in the narrow back streets near Hong Kong’s parliament, where he works for a pro-democracy lawmaker. It’s one of the most socially diverse parts of the city and has been at the heart of five months of unrest, which has turned into a battle for Hong Kong’s future. A few weekends earlier I covered clashes nearby as protesters threw Molotov cocktails at police, who fired back tear gas. Drunk expats looked on, as tourists rushed by dragging suitcases.

The lunch crowd pours into the fast-food joint, milling around as staff set up collapsible tables on the pavement. Construction workers sit side-by-side with men sweating in suits, chopsticks in one hand, phones in the other. I scan the menu: instant noodles with fried egg and luncheon meat, deep fried pork chops, beef brisket with radish. Wong barely glances at it before selecting the hometown fried rice and milk tea, a Hong Kong speciality with British colonial roots, made with black tea and evaporated or condensed milk.

“I always order this,” he beams, “I love this place, it’s the only Cantonese teahouse in the area that does cheap, high-quality milk tea.” I take my cue and settle for the veggie and egg fried rice and a lemon iced tea as the man sitting on the next table reaches over to shake Wong’s hand. Another pats him on the shoulder as he brushes by to pay the bill.

Wong has been a recognisable face in this city since he was 14, when he fought against a proposal from the Hong Kong government to introduce a national education curriculum that would teach that Chinese Communist party rule was “superior” to western-style democracy. The government eventually backed down after more than 100,000 people took to the streets. Two years later, Wong rose to global prominence when he became the poster boy for the Umbrella Movement, in which tens of thousands of students occupied central Hong Kong for 79 days to demand genuine universal suffrage.

That movement ended in failure. Many of its leaders were sent to jail, among them Wong. But the seeds of activism were planted in the generation of Hong Kongers who are now back on the streets, fighting for democracy against the world’s most powerful authoritarian state. The latest turmoil was sparked by a controversial extradition bill but has evolved into demands for true suffrage and a showdown with Beijing over the future of Hong Kong. The unrest in the former British colony, which was handed over to China in 1997, represents the biggest uprising on Chinese soil since the 1989 pro-democracy movement in Beijing. Its climax, of course, was the Tiananmen Square massacre, when hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people were killed.

“We learnt a lot of lessons from the Umbrella Movement: how to deal with conflict between the more moderate and progressive camps, how to be more organic, how to be less hesitant,” says Wong. “Five years ago the pro-democracy camp was far more cautious about seeking international support because they were afraid of pissing off Beijing.”

Wong doesn’t appear to be afraid of irking China. Over the past few months, he has lobbied on behalf of the Hong Kong protesters to governments around the world. In the US, he testified before Congress and urged lawmakers to pass an act in support of the Hong Kong protesters — subsequently approved by the House of Representatives with strong bipartisan support. In Germany, he made headlines when he suggested two baby pandas in the Berlin Zoo be named “Democracy” and “Freedom.” He has been previously barred from entering Malaysia and Thailand due to pressure from Beijing, and a Singaporean social worker was recently convicted and fined for organising an event at which Wong spoke via Skype.

The food arrives almost immediately. I struggle to tell our orders apart. Two mouthfuls into my egg and cabbage fried rice, I regret not ordering the instant noodles with luncheon meat.

In August, a Hong Kong newspaper controlled by the Chinese Communist party published a photo of Julie Eadeh, an American diplomat, meeting pro-democracy student leaders including Wong. The headline accused “foreign forces” of igniting a revolution in Hong Kong. “Beijing says I was trained by the CIA and the US marines and I am a CIA agent. [I find it] quite boring because they have made up these kinds of rumours for seven years [now],” he says, ignoring his incessantly pinging phone.

Another thing that bores him? The media. Although Wong’s messaging is always on point, his appraisal of journalists in response to my questions is piercing and cheeky. “In 15-minute interviews I know journalists just need soundbites that I’ve repeated lots of times before. So I’ll say things like ‘I have no hope [as regards] the regime but I have hope towards the people.’ Then the journalists will say ‘oh that’s so impressive!’ And I’ll say ‘yes, I’m a poet.’ ”

And what about this choice of restaurant? “Well, I knew I couldn’t pick a five-star hotel, even though the Financial Times is paying and I know you can afford it,” he says grinning. “It’s better to do this kind of interview in a Hong Kong-style restaurant. This is the place that I conducted my first interview after I left prison.” Wong has spent around 120 days in prison in total, including on charges of unlawful assembly.

“My fellow prisoners would tell me about how they joined the Umbrella Movement and how they agreed with our beliefs. I think prisoners are more aware of the importance of human rights,” he says, adding that even the prison wardens would share with him how they had joined protests.

“Even the triad members in prison support democracy. They complain how the tax on cigarettes is extremely high and the tax on red wine is extremely low; it just shows how the upper-class elite lives here,” he says, as a waiter strains to hear our conversation. Wong was most recently released from jail in June, the day after the largest protests in the history of Hong Kong, when an estimated 2m people — more than a quarter of the territory’s 7.5m population — took to the streets.

Raised in a deeply religious family, he used to travel to mainland China every two years with his family and church literally to spread the gospel. As with many Hong Kong Chinese who trace their roots to the mainland, he doesn’t know where his ancestral village is. His lasting memory of his trips across the border is of dirty toilets, he tells me, mid-bite. He turned to activism when he realised praying didn’t help much.

“The gift from God is to have independence of mind and critical thinking; to have our own will and to make our own personal judgments. I don’t link my religious beliefs with my political judgments. Even Carrie Lam is Catholic,” he trails off, in a reference to Hong Kong’s leader. Lam has the lowest approval rating of any chief executive in the history of the city, thanks to her botched handling of the crisis.

I ask whether Wong’s father, who is also involved in social activism, has been a big influence. Wrong question.

“The western media loves to frame Joshua Wong joining the fight because of reading the books of Nelson Mandela or Martin Luther King or because of how my parents raised me. In reality, I joined street activism not because of anyone book I read. Why do journalists always assume anyone who strives for a better society has a role model?” He glances down at his pinging phone and draws a breath, before continuing. “Can you really describe my dad as an activist? I support LGBTQ rights,” he says, with a fist pump. His father, Roger Wong, is a well-known anti-gay rights campaigner in Hong Kong.

I notice he has put down his spoon, with half a plate of fried rice untouched. I decide it would be a good idea to redirect our conversation by bonding over phone addictions. Wong, renowned for his laser focus and determination, replies to my emails and messages at all hours and has been described by his friends as “a robot.”

He scrolls through his Gmail, his inbox filled with unread emails, showing me how he categorises interview requests with country tags. His life is almost solely dedicated to activism. “My friends and I used to go to watch movies and play laser tag but now of course we don’t have time to play any more: we face real bullets every weekend.”

The protests — which have seen more than 3,300 people arrested — have been largely leaderless. “Do you ever question your relevance to the movement?” I venture, mid-spoonful of congealed fried rice.

“Never,” he replies with his mouth full. “We have a lot of facilitators in this movement and I’m one of them . . . it’s just like Wikipedia. You don’t know who the contributors are behind a Wikipedia page but you know there’s a lot of collaboration and crowdsourcing. Instead of just having a top-down command, we now have a bottom-up command hub which has allowed the movement to last far longer than Umbrella.

“With greater power comes greater responsibility, so the question is how, through my role, can I express the voices of the frontliners, of the street activism? For example, I defended the action of storming into the Legislative Council on July 1. I know I didn’t storm in myself . . . ” His phone pings twice. Finally he succumbs.

After tapping away for about 30 seconds, Wong launches back into our conversation, sounding genuinely sorry that he wasn’t there on the night when protesters destroyed symbols of the Chinese Communist party and briefly occupied the chamber.

“My job is to be the middleman to express, evaluate and reveal what is going on in the Hong Kong protests when the movement is about being faceless,” he says, adding that his Twitter storm of 29 tweets explaining the July 1 occupation reached at least four million people. I admit that I am overcome with exhaustion just scanning his Twitter account, which has more than 400,000 followers. “Well, that thread was actually written by Jeffrey Ngo from Demosisto,” he say, referring to the political activism group that he heads.

A network of Hong Kong activists studying abroad helps fuel his relentless public persona on social media and in the opinion pages of international newspapers. Within a week of his most recent arrest, he had published op-eds in The Economist, The New York Times, Quartz and the Apple Daily.

I wonder out loud if he ever feels overwhelmed at taking on the Chinese Communist party, a task daunting even for some of the world’s most formidable governments and companies. He peers at me over his wire-framed glasses. “It’s our responsibility; if we don’t do it, who will? At least we are not in Xinjiang or Tibet; we are in Hong Kong,” he says, referring to two regions on Chinese soil on the frontline of Beijing’s drive to develop a high-tech surveillance state. In Xinjiang, at least one million people are being held in internment camps. “Even though we’re directly under the rule of Beijing, we have a layer of protection because we’re recognised as a global city so [Beijing] is more hesitant to act.”

I hear the sound of the wok firing up in the kitchen and ask him the question on everyone’s minds in Hong Kong: what happens next? Like many people who are closely following the extraordinary situation in Hong Kong, he is hesitant to make firm predictions.

“Lots of think-tanks around the world say ‘Oh, we’re China experts. We’re born in western countries but we know how to read Chinese so we’re familiar with Chinese politics.’ They predicted the Communist party would collapse after the Tiananmen Square massacre and they’ve kept predicting this over the past three decades but hey, now it’s 2019 and we’re still under the rule of Beijing, ha ha,” he grins.

While we are prophesying, does Wong ever think he might become chief executive one day? “No local journalist in Hong Kong would really ask this question,” he admonishes. As our lunch has progressed, he has become bolder in dissecting my interview technique. The territory’s chief executive is currently selected by a group of 1,200, mostly Beijing loyalists, and he doubts the Chinese Communist party would ever allow him to run. A few weeks after we meet he announces his candidacy in the upcoming district council elections. He was eventually the only candidate disqualified from running — an order that, after our lunch, he tweeted had come from Beijing and was “clearly politically driven”.

We turn to the more ordinary stuff of 23-year-olds’ lives, as Wong slurps the remainder of his milk tea. “Before being jailed, the thing I was most worried about was that I wouldn’t be able to watch Avengers: Endgame,” he says.

“Luckily, it came out around early May so I watched it two weeks before I was locked up in prison.” He has already quoted Spider-Man twice during our lunch. I am unsurprised when Wong picks him as his favourite character.

“I think he’s more . . . ” He pauses, one of the few times in the interview. “Compared to having an unlimited superpower or unlimited power or unlimited talent just like Superman, I think Spider-Man is more human.” With that, our friendly neighbourhood activist dashes off to his next interview.

The freshest dishes in my humble opinion came from these little food stalls at the vintage and second hand market. One stall, one dish usually calls for the utmost freshness given its a single specialty focus. Our cool @khiritravel guide ventured out as we munched on the most incredible freshly made summer rolls to bring us other dishes like this amazing salad of lotus stem and young papaya, peanuts, shredded carrots and different parts of the pork, even ear! We also tried freshly mixed juices, one that reminded me of wheatgrass but with much less gag-reflex. Clearly a healthy drink. Then came a very surprising dessert. Orange, spongy and elastic with congealed coconut cream atop, we were dubious to taste but in fact it was simply stunning. I can't even describe the flavours, sugar cane with some floral notes, much more complex than most of the street food dessert I've tried in Bangkok. Wanna do the same or something like this? Get @khiritravel to take you around, they customise according to your desires and will certainly take you to "secret" places beyond the tourist zones if that's what you wish!
#BangkokFoodies #HochiminhFoodies #FoodiesOfficialAsia #KhiriTravel @ Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

柴魚汁 Bonito Flakes Fish Sauce

材料：
柴魚片 10公克
水500cc
Dried bonito flakes (katsuobushi) 10 grams
500cc of water

作法：
1.取一湯鍋，加水煮滾後轉小火。
2.在作法1中加入柴魚片，待柴魚片濕透後即關火，浸泡約2分鐘後，再過濾掉柴魚片即可。
1. Heat a pot of water then turn down to low heat after it boils.
2. Put the Bonito fish flakes into the pot from step 1 and turn the heat off. Let the flakes soak for 2 minutes then strain the Bonito flakes back out.

酪梨鮮蝦蛋捲Avocado Shrimp Omelet

材料：
雞蛋 3顆
大草蝦 4尾
酪梨 100公克
3 eggs
4 large shrimp
Avocado 100 grams

調味料：
味醂 15㏄
柴魚汁 40cc
鹽 1/4茶匙
15cc of mirin rice wine
40cc bonito flakes fish sauce
Salt 1/4 teaspoon

作法：
1. 將蛋打散，加入所有調味料均勻調和成蛋液。蝦仁去腸泥燙熟剝殼。酪梨去皮去籽切長條
2. 煎蛋鍋底抹油加熱，倒入適量作法1的蛋液使其均勻佈滿鍋底，用小火慢煎，有氣泡鼓起時用竹筷戳破以防厚蛋有空隙產生。
3. 煎至略凝固時，放入鮮蝦。將前端蛋皮往後對折，推至方鍋前緣。
4. 再倒入適量作法1的蛋液，並用筷子撐起鍋邊蛋捲，讓新加入的蛋汁流入下方確實佈滿整個鍋底，煎至半熟時，鋪上酪梨。再將蛋皮摺起煎熟即可。
1. Scramble the eggs, add all seasonings and whisk evenly into the egg mixture.
Peel the shrimp, removing the visceral waste line. Peel and remove the seed from the avocado and cut into lengthwise strips.
2. Grease the bottom of a heated omelet pan. Pour in a suitable amount of egg mixture to cover the bottom and slowly fry over low heat bursting any bubbles that may form with a chopstick.
3. Fry until slightly congealed then put in the shrimp and fold the egg layer over. Push to the leading edge of the pan.
4. Pour in more egg mixture from step 1 while holding the folded egg upwards with chopsticks and rolling it around so that it covers the bottom of the pan. Fry until partially cooked then cover with avocado slices, fold it over and finish by cooking the folded omelet until it is done.

海苔肉鬆蛋捲Dried Seaweed and Shredded Pork Omelet

材料：
雞蛋 3顆
肉鬆  50公克
海苔 1片
3 eggs
Shredded pork 50 grams
1 sheet of dried seaweed

調味料：
味醂 15㏄
柴魚汁 40cc
鹽 1/4茶匙
15cc mirin rice wine
40cc bonito flakes fish sauce
Salt 1/4 teaspoon

作法：
1. 將蛋打散，加入所有調味料均勻調和成蛋液。海苔對切成兩片。
2. 煎蛋鍋底抹油加熱，倒入適量作法1的蛋液使其均勻佈滿鍋底，用小火慢煎，有氣泡鼓起時用竹筷戳破以防厚蛋有空隙產生。
3. 煎至略凝固時，鋪上一片海苔。將前端蛋皮往後對折，推至方鍋前緣。
4. 再倒入適量作法1的蛋液，並用筷子撐起鍋邊蛋捲，讓新加入的蛋汁流入下方確實佈滿整個鍋底，煎至半熟時，鋪上肉鬆。再將蛋皮摺起。
5.再倒入適量的蛋液，鋪上一片海苔。再將蛋皮摺起煎熟即可。
1. Scramble the eggs and evenly whisk all the seasonings into the egg mixture.
2. Grease the bottom of a heated omelet pan. Pour in a suitable amount of egg mixture to cover the bottom and slowly fry over low heat bursting any bubbles that may form with a chopstick.
3. Fry until slightly solidified then lay in a piece of dried seaweed. Fold the egg over and push it to the leading edge of the pan.
4. Pour in more egg mixture from step 1 while holding the folded egg upwards with chopsticks and roll it around so that it covers the bottom of the pan. Fry until partially cooked then cover with shredded pork, fold it over and push it to the leading edge of the pan.
5. Pour in enough egg mixture to cover the pan bottom, lay in the asparagus pieces, fold the egg over when it has partially solidified and cook the omelet until it is done. That's it.

培根蘆筍蛋捲Bacon Asparagus Omelet

材料：
雞蛋 3顆
培根 2片
蘆筍 100公克
3 eggs
Bacon 2 slices
Asparagus 100 grams

調味料：
味醂 15㏄
柴魚汁 40cc
鹽 1/4茶匙
15cc mirin rice wine
40cc bonito flakes fish sauce
Salt 1/4 teaspoon

作法：
1. 將蛋打散，加入所有調味料均勻調和成蛋液。培根煎熟。蘆筍燙熟。
2. 煎蛋鍋底抹油加熱，倒入適量作法1的蛋液使其均勻佈滿鍋底，用小火慢煎，有氣泡鼓起時用竹筷戳破以防厚蛋有空隙產生。
3. 煎至略凝固時，放入蘆筍。將前端蛋皮往後對折，推至方鍋前緣。
4. 再倒入適量作法1的蛋液，並用筷子撐起鍋邊蛋捲，讓新加入的蛋汁流入下方確實佈滿整個鍋底，煎至半熟時，鋪上培根。再將蛋皮摺起煎熟即可。
1. Scramble the eggs and evenly whisk all the seasonings into the egg mixture.
2. Grease the bottom of a heated omelet pan. Pour in a suitable amount of egg mixture to cover the bottom and slowly fry over low heat bursting any bubbles that may form with a chopstick.
3. Fry until slightly solidified then put in the asparagus pieces. Fold the egg over and push it to the leading edge of the pan.
4. Pour in more egg mixture from step 1 while holding the folded egg upwards with chopsticks and roll it around so that it covers the bottom of the pan. Fry until partially cooked then lay in the bacon slices, fold it over and finish by cooking the folded omelet until it is done.

蔥香蟳味棒蛋捲

材料：
雞蛋 3顆
蟹味棒 4條
蔥花 30公克

調味料：
味醂 15㏄
柴魚汁 40cc
鹽 1/4茶匙

作法：
1. 將蛋打散，加入所有調味料均勻調和成蛋液。
2. 煎蛋鍋底抹油加熱，倒入適量作法1的蛋液使其均勻佈滿鍋底，用小火慢煎，有氣泡鼓起時用竹筷戳破以防厚蛋有空隙產生。
3. 煎至略凝固時，放入蟹味棒。將前端蛋皮往後對折，推至方鍋前緣。
4. 再倒入適量作法1的蛋液，並用筷子撐起鍋邊蛋捲，讓新倒入的蛋汁流入下方確實佈滿整個鍋底，煎至半熟時，鋪上蔥花。再將蛋皮摺起煎熟即可。

Bún riêu is a Vietnamese meat rice vermicelli soup. There are several varieties of bún riêu, including bún riêu cua, bún riêu cá, and bún riêu ốc.

Bún riêu cua is served with tomato broth and topped with freshwater crab . In this dish, various freshwater paddy crabs are used, including the brown paddy crab found in rice paddies in Vietnam. The crabs are cleaned by being placed in clean water to remove dirt and sand. The crabs are pounded with the shell on into a fine paste. This paste is strained and the crab liquid is a base for the soup along with tomato. The crab residue is used as the basis for crab cakes. Other ingredients for this dish include tamarind paste, fried tofu, mẻ or giấm bổng (kinds of rice vinegar), Garcinia multiflora Champ., annatto seeds (hạt điều màu) to redden the broth, huyết (congealed pig's blood), split water spinach stems, shredded banana flower, rau kinh giới (Elsholtzia ciliata), spearmint, perilla, bean sprouts and chả chay (vegetarian sausage). This dish is rich in nutrition: calcium from the ground crab shells, iron from the congealed pig's blood, and vitamins and fiber from the vegetables.

Bún bò Huế or bún bò is a popular Vietnamese soup containing rice vermicelli (bún) and beef (bò). Huế is a city in central Vietnam associated with the cooking style of the former royal court. The dish is greatly admired for its balance of spicy, sour, salty and sweet flavors and the predominant flavor is that of lemon grass. Compared to phở or bún riêu, the noodles are thicker and more cylindrical.

Bún bò originated in Huế, a former capital of Vietnam. Outside the city of Huế and some parts of Central Vietnam, it is called bún bò Huế to denote its origin. Within Huế and surrounding cities, it is known simply as bún bò. The broth is prepared by simmering beef bones and beef shank with lemongrass and then seasoned with fermented shrimp sauce and sugar for taste. Very spicy chili oil is added later during the cooking process.

Bún bò usually includes thin slices of marinated and boiled beef shank, chunks of oxtail, and pig's knuckles. It can also include cubes of congealed pig blood, which has a color between dark brown and maroon, and a texture resembling firm tofu.

Bún bò is commonly served with lime wedges, cilantro sprigs, diced green onions, raw sliced onions, chili sauce, thinly sliced banana blossom, red cabbage, mint, basil, perilla, persicaria odorata or Vietnamese coriander (rau răm), saw tooth herb (ngò gai) and sometimes mung bean sprouts. Thinly sliced purple cabbage is acceptable substitute when banana blossoms are not available. Purple cabbage most resembles banana blossom in texture, though not in taste. Fish sauce and shrimp sauce is added to the soup according to taste. Ingredients might be varied by regions due to their availability.