Planes, trains, or automobiles: local delicacies make memorable mobile meals

As a food and travel writer, I log a lot of air and land miles, but I can count on one hand how many airline meals I’ve eaten. Even as a kid-admittedly the most irritatingly picky eater on the planet-I refused to choke down in-flight chicken the texture of sawdust, or boiled-to-death pasta and vegetables. My parents, at their wit’s end, finally gave up. Ordering pizza the night before a plane trip became a ritual, because I’d eat the leftovers once airborne (after scraping off the sauce, but I digress).

In some ways, things have changed. I will now eat anything, often to the detriment of my health, for the purposes of work, or a good story. Dog, insects, horse; I don’t get all the fuss over the Donner Party. I will not, however, eat airline, train, heat-and-serve gas station, or ferry fare, unless I’m being paid to do so. I’m not trying to be a food snob. I just find institutional food repugnant, because it usually takes like ass. Don’t even get me started on the nutritional aspects. And in my defense, I have a serious weakness for Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. No, I skip mass transit meals because one of the greatest joys of travel is trying new foods.

I prefer to use my captive travel time to savor local produce and products purchased from farmer’s markets, food halls, street food vendors, or take-away joints. It’s generally the best, as well as cheapest, way to eat on the go, and it’s a great way to experience the food culture of a country or region, even if you’ve never left the United States.
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When I’m in Honolulu, I pick up the fat, juicy, char siu pork-stuffed manapua (steamed dumplings) from Libby Manapua (conveniently located en route to the airport). I’m not alone; the little shop’s pink cardboard cake boxes are a frequent site on inter-island and Mainland-bound flights.

In Naples, I’ve brought calzone and the makings for an impromptu insalata Caprese on the train, and done the same with majouba from Marseilles. On flights I’ve scarfed down Argentinean empanadas, Singaporean sticky rice stuffed with pork, and this soy custardy thing studded with slippery bits of florescent tapioca from Bangkok. I also load up on interesting snack foods: Peruvian cancha, fried fava beans in Ecuador, Mexican tamales, Vietnamese roasted chestnuts, and mochi from Asian groceries in Australia. And under no circumstances should you depart Miami without cuban pork sandwiches from Palacios de los Jugos, in Little Havana.

My favorite mobile meal, however, was a picnic I assembled for a 15-hour train ride from Provence to Madrid. I was staying in the village of Cassis, which is famed for its bustling farmers market. En route to the train station, I hit the market, picking up a couple of different crottins (small rounds of goat cheese), bread, pâté, sausage, and a handful of plump, crimson cherries. A bottle of Bandol rosè from the nearby village of the same name also helped to pass the time.

If you live somewhere known for its local ingredients or dishes, it’s just as easy to assemble a memorable meal to take en route to your destination. One of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received was when a chef friend dropped off a pre-flight bag lunch for me to take on a flight. In it were some of his favorite things from the Berkeley farmer’s market: a loaf of crusty, country-style levain, a round of chevre, and a fat, juicy peach. I arrived at my destination sated and happy. That’s the experience that made me stop making do with meals of soggy, lukewarm sandwiches from home, or Power Bars (although I always have plenty stashed in my day pack for emergency snacks).

A few tips on portable meals:

If you don’t travel light or are on a road trip, keep a small Tupperware container to hold fruit, to prevent it from bruising, or a single-serving-size insulated or neoprene bag to keep perishables cool.

If you backpack, as I do, you can still get away with carrying a few essentials: pocketknife (unless you’re carry-on only), and a wine opener. Carabiners are good to clip on your daypack, as they aid in holding purchases.

If you’ve purchased meat (even if it’s cured), dairy products, honey, or produce, be prepared to consume it en route- you won’t be able to take if off the plane or over borders. At least, not legally. This can also apply on domestic flights, usually in regard to produce.

Do be considerate of your seatmates. If you’re traveling Stateside, or in places where fragrant/heavily spiced cuisine isn’t the norm, skip it. Because hell on earth is being stuck on a plane next to someone eating a warm tuna sandwich. Also, it’s good form, as well as a cultural imperative in some countries, to offer your neighbors a little snack.

Most cultures have foods, such as a variation on dumplings, that are ideal for transit. In Asia and India, food hawkers often sell food on the train or in stations. These may be some of the best, most authentic eats you’ll find, but be forewarned that few things ruin a long train or bus ride like foodborne illness. Only buy fresh, hot food from busy vendors, bring bottled water, and carry a box of Imodium (seriously). Happy travels!

Chile-Citrus Olives

The whole point of travel picnics is to make do when you can’t cook, but I make these olives to take on road trips. They also make nice cocktail snacks or a casual accompaniment to a cheese plate. They’re typical of the type of prepared food you’ll find in many Mediterranean and Middle Eastern markets.
serves 4

10 oz. dry cured or green olives, or combination of the two, such as Moroccan or Picholine
3 or 4 strips of orange peel (not zest- use a vegetable peeler to cut wide strips, avoiding any pith)
2 cloves garlic, gently crushed
2 pinches red chile flakes
1 to 2 T. extra virgin olive oil

Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan over medium low heat, adding more olive oil if too dry. Warm until heated through, then remove from heat, transfer to small bowl, and allow to sit one hour, so flavors develop.

Ten things to do when it rains on your vacation

Barbra Streisand gets it. Rain is the enemy.

I mean, yes, rain is important to our environment and makes all the beautiful things you see on a vacation possible, but when you only have a few days in paradise, rain can really spoil things. If you’ve ever found yourself in a situation where your dream day of biking or skydiving is canceled due to a torrential downpour, you get it. If you’ve ever come back from a week on an island without a tan … it’s just so sad, isn’t it?

Hurricane season in the Caribbean is upon us (June to November), and while that’s not likely to mean actual hurricanes, it does usually mean you’ll get some rain on your budget tropical excursions. Here are ten ideas to make your rained-in vacation days a little less disappointing. The important thing is to have fun and enjoy yourself anyway.

Ten things to do when it rains on your vacation:

1. Write postcards.

This is an excellent activity for the type-A among us. Writing postcards is potentially something you were going to do anyway, so doing it while it’s raining is actually a very clever use of time. Just try not to be too sad when you look at the front of the postcard and see that sun shining like a jerk.

2. Museums.

So, maybe you weren’t really planning to go a museum, but rain is a good excuse to go get yourself cultured up. If you were planning to visit a museum, this should be a no-brainer. Rain means “do your indoor activities today.” It’s like a message from the universe. A soggy, awful message, but a message nonetheless.

3. Library or lobby bar.

Many hotels and resorts have a library or lobby bar where guests instinctually gather when it rains. Strike up a conversation, make some new friends, have a margarita at 10 AM. Why not? It’s raining. All bets are off.

4. Sleep.

10 AM margaritas frequently lead to naps, and that’s okay. In fact, if you open your eyes in the morning and see rain from your hotel bed, why not sleep an extra hour or so — maybe it will be over when you get up. After all, vacation is about relaxing and rejuvenating, and catching up on all that sleep you missed this year is imperative. Imperative!

5. Games.

On a rainy day, get down to the gift shop early before they run out of decks of cards. Your hotel’s front desk may also have board games you can borrow, and if your hotel has a casino, there are a bunch of games to play there, too (albeit expensive ones). Don’t even try the game room; it will be overrun. Make up your own goofy games if you’re feeling especially restless. Sad photo ops in the rain can be a hilarious pastime.

6. Eat.

Rainy days are a perfect opportunity to dig into the local cuisine. Head into town in a rental car and try out some authentic eating establishments and grocery stores. You may be surprised at the strange food you find — and you might make one of your most lasting memories of the whole trip.

7. In-room movies.

If you’re someone who likes to get things done, why not knock a few titles off your Netflix list by curling up with the in-room movie selections? Rain can be a good excuse to watch movies you’d be embarrassed to go to or have in your home.

8. Theater.

Live theater? Quoi? Yes. Ask your hotel if there is any live theater in the vicinity and go check out a play, a concert or whatever’s playing. This can be an unexpected blessing; you may see an unforgettable performance or learn more about the local culture than you would have otherwise.

9. Spa.

See if any appointments are available at the spa. If there isn’t a spa on the property, the hotel can probably recommend a good one nearby. This may be the only option more relaxing and restorative than sleep.

10. Go out and enjoy the rain.

Can’t stay inside anymore? Then bundle yourself up (if it’s chilly) or put on your swimming suit (if it’s hot) and go play in the rain like a kid. Splash in the puddles, get messy and have fun. Don’t get in the pool if there’s lightning, and certainly don’t go out if the conditions are dangerous (like if there’s an actual hurricane going on), but playing in the rain can relieve the very angst the badly-timed stormy weather gives you.

Travel gear: How to pack a pair of shoes without a plastic bag

I’m a germaphobe who cringes at the idea of packing my shoes anywhere near my clothes. But travel requires you to get a little dirty, so I tell myself that a plastic bag has to be enough to keep the germs from contaminating the rest of my stuff.

But a funny thing happened while I was packing for a recent trip to Houston: I actually ran out of plastic bags. (Guess my effort to be green and use eco-friendly totes has finally paid off). I knew there were other packing shortcuts, but it felt wasteful to use a clean gallon-size Ziploc bag for my dirty shoes. Wrapping my shoes in something flimsy like tissue paper just wasn’t going to cut it, and the idea of putting my shoes in a New York Times plastic sleeve (that was just outside on the sidewalk) didn’t help the germaphobia.

Enter the Shoefly ($19.95), a machine-washable tote that protects your purse or suitcase from your dirty shoes. I know it sounds ridiculous, but the streets of New York City aren’t exactly clean. The bag, which has a drawstring closure, is large enough for a pair of sneakers, and it can easily stretch to fit a pair of heels. The bag’s material (a blend of polyester and Lycra) feels like velour, lending a glam touch to an otherwise pretty filthy function.

Granted, it does feel a little indulgent to justify buying a bag for your shoes when a plastic grocery bag is about as budget-friendly as you can get. But when it comes to measuring other things — the environment, perhaps? — I’m happy to run out of plastic bags. Plus, I love the idea of being able to launder the Shoefly bag when it gets dirty (both on the inside and out). If I were at all crafty (and had a sewing machine), this is the kind of thing that I’d love to make by the dozen.

All too often, travel gear is something that I pull out a few times a year but then put away until the next vacation. Luckily, the Shoefly is versatile enough for daily use, such as for changing into work shoes once I get to the office.

Where to Buy:
The Shoefly bag is currently only available online at www.shoeflybags.com for $19.95. Add $2.95 for shipping.

Women more likely to cheat on vacation than men, says new study

Blame it on the sun. According to new research from British “married dating site” IlicitEncounters, over a third of (already cheating) spouses can’t keep it in their pants while on vacation solo or with friends. In fact, six percent of the sneaky devils strayed while on holiday with their spouse. The real news, however, is that married women vacationing with friends are more likely to break their vows than men. “Sunshine is a real aphrodisiac.” says Sara Hartley, representative at IllicitEncounters.com. “We have always seen an increase in activity on the site during the summer months.”

Global warming apparently makes for booming business. IllicitEncounters was established in 2003, and expects have half a million memberships by the end of this month. Their study indicated that 63% of the 800 men and 800 women surveyed also said they would prefer to vacation with their mistress or…mister than their spouse, and that male cheaters were more likely to take their lovers on holiday than their wives. The Maldives tops the list for clandestine canoodling; the study found that the majority of its subjects chose the sultry islands over any other destination for an assignation.

Says Jenny*, 34, an IlicitEncounters member from Shropshire, “I had only been married for four years, and although things were less exciting at home, I never expected that I would cheat on holiday. A group of single friends and I went to Spain last August…on the last night, I met an ex-pat Londoner at a local bar, and we got drunk together. I just didn’t wish to deny myself the excitement; it all happened very quickly, but it was so exhilarating to feel that freedom again. I have no intention of telling my spouse; I joined the site straight afterwards and have had several extramarital affairs here at home.”

While one wishes the self-indulgent Jenny had at least hooked up with someone other than a fellow countryman, look on the bright side, guys: as long as your wife isn’t also emulating that mortifying karaoke scene from Sex and the City 2, maybe it’s not so bad.

*Name has been changed

[Photo credit: Flickr user chriswsn]

Peruvian adventure travel and agritourism on Lake Titicaca’s Isla Amantani

While I sat at the table with her young son, Ayun, I watched Imeliana Calcin stuff wood into the stove. Although she’d greeted me at the boat dock in a skirt and faded t-shirt, she’d changed as soon as we arrived at her family’s tiny adobe house. Now, clad in the intricately-embroidered white blouse and headscarf for which the women of Isla Amantani are famed, she was preparing sopa de quinoa for our lunch.

I was on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, the
unfortunately-named, highest commercially navigable lake in the world. Amantani, like neighboring Isla Taquile, is a small, natural island (not to be confused with the famous, totora reed “Floating Islands” elsewhere on the lake) populated solely by subsistence farmers like the Calcin’s.

Since the mid-eighties, agritourism has helped provide income to the islanders. Visitors stay in modest guest rooms, or share a dwelling with families, joining meals and even helping with seasonal crop harvests, if they so desire. The islanders hold frequent dances to provide visitors a chance to interact with the communities, and learn more about Amantani’s culture.

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Otherwise, there’s no other real tourism infrastructure on Amantani-no restaurants, bars, or shops, although the locals sell their embroidery at the dock. The farmstays are arranged by tour operators in the lakeside city of Puno, or through adventure travel agencies such Northern California’s Bio Bio Expeditions, the company I booked with.

The residents of Amantani and Taquile speak Quechua, the language used by various cultural groups throughout South America. The islanders, however, are more closely related to the Aymara people of the Altiplano of the Central Andes. The approximately 800 residents eke out an existence by growing quinoa, trigo (emmer wheat), corn, potatoes, and oca (a type of sweet potato); and raising sheep, chickens, pigs, alpacas, and cuy (guinea pigs, a typical indigenous dish throughout Peru). They make a mild, salty queso fresco from the milk of their cows, and sun-dry part of their potato crop to make chũno, which can be reconstituted in soups and stews for sustenance throughout the harsh winter.
I first heard about the island the previous year, while running Chilean Patagonia’s wild Futaleufu River on a Bio Bio trip.

I was really impressed by Bio Bio’s genuine regard for preserving the ecological and cultural integrity of their host countries. After learning of my interest in agritourism, Peruvian guide Piero Vellutino told me about Amantani, and suggested I visit the following summer, during the dry season. Piero-whose family is famed for their whitewater expeditions and first ascents- is National Peruvian Kayaking Champion, and an all-around badass. He and his wife, Patty, are also the Peruvian base outfitter for Bio Bio. Their company, Terra Explorer Peru, is based in Cusco, and together, the companies offer customized cultural extension trips such as cooking classes and market tours, because, Piero explains, “that’s what makes places special and distinct from one another. Water is the same everywhere.”

I booked a trip with Bio Bio to run the Apurimac River and walk the Inca Trail, then added two days on Amantani-which has excellent sea kayaking, and plenty of walking trails. Due to time constraint, I was unable to sea kayak, and instead opted to focus on food. That’s how I ended up in Imeliana’s kitchen (which also happened to be her famiy’s dining and living room, as well as bedroom). Ayun and I snacked on choclo, boiled native corn harvested that morning by his father, Esmael. When he’s not tending to his crops, Esmael can be found down by the boat dock selling blended fruit juices from a collapsible table. Entrepreneurial spirit is a necessity to support his and Imeliana’s six children, but they were genuinely sweet, gracious hosts who made me feel a part of the family.

The Calcin’s live in Colquercachi community, the largest on the tiny island. Through sign language and rudimentary Spanish on both our parts, Imeliana taught me how to prepare the soup, and described typical meals- primarily some type of grain-based soup or stew, rice and boiled potatoes, and corn. When lunch was served-brothy soup augmented with greens, potato, carrot, and onion, accompanied by fried queso fresco, and sliced cucumbers and tomatoes- several of the children straggled in from school to pick up their lunch. Imeliana portioned their meals onto aluminum plates, wrapped them in cloth, tying the ends into a handle, and sent them on their way with a dazzling smile. The meal concluded with muňa tea, a mint-like herb prized for it’s medicinal properties.

After lunch, I hiked to Pachatata, the highest point on the desolate, nine-kilometer island. I passed women harvesting potatoes in brick-red dirt fields, and men carrying sheaves of trigo upon their shoulders. At the “summit,” there is a small temple used for private rituals and feast days. Spread out beneath me in all directions lay terraced farm plots, divided by low rock walls. Far across the lake, the snow-covered Bolivian Andes were visible. Amantani is wild, and lonely, and emblematic of a way of life that-for better or for worse- has changed little in thousands of years. It’s not a luxury holiday, but it’s a rich experience that helps preserve a globally vanishing way of life.

If you visit Amantani or Taquile, it is appropriate to bring a house gift such as fresh fruit, which is difficult to find on the island, or staples such as rice, sugar, or flour. Donated clothing for the island’s children is also appreciated.

LAN offers flights from Lima to Juliaca, which shares an airport with Puno (one hour by minibus). Alternatively, you can take a coach from Arequipa or Cuzco (five and six hours, respectively). If you’re traveling alone to Puno by bus, be sure to book a trip that gets in at a reasonable hour. I ended up arriving at 4am, and the Puno bus station (or any bus station, really) isn’t somewhere you want to be, alone, at that hour.

Sopa de Quinoa
Quinoa has been cultivated in the Andes since approximately 3,000 BC. It has a mild, nutty flavor, and is a complete protein (meaning it has all the essential amino acids). Substitute it for couscous or rice in soups and salads, or as an accompaniment to meat or vegetarian dishes. This recipe is actually one I obtained from a dairy I visited in Ecuador; it differs from Imeliana’s in that it contains…dairy. But it’s so unbelievably delicious, especially when made with pasture-raised eggs, and good-quality milk, butter, and cheese, that I had to include it.

Recipe courtesy of chef Jose Maria Pumisacho, Hacienda Zuleta

Serves four

2 cups quinoa
6 cups water
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 scallions, white part only, sliced
1/3 cup heavy cream
½ cup of milk
yolks of two large eggs
½ cup of grated, semi-firm cheese that melts well, such as Gruyere
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Put water into a stockpot, and bring to a boil. Lower heat to a simmer, add quinoa, and cover the pot, stirring occasionally. Cook quinoa for approximately one- to one-and a half hours, or until the grains are soft.
While quinoa is cooking heat an eight-inch frying pan over medium heat, add butter, and when butter is melted, add onions and cook until transparent. When quinoa is ready, add onions and half of the milk to the quinoa and bring to a boil for five minutes, then reduce heat and let simmer.

While quinoa mixture is simmering, add egg yolks, the remaining milk, cream, and cheese in a blender, and process for one minute. Add this mixture to the soup right before serving, and stir it into the soup. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve immediately.