In Praise of Unfamiliar Breakfasts

Garlic cloves, chili sauce, and vinegar. Yes, at breakfast.

A few weeks ago I read something that got my ire up: this article for travel site WorldHum , in which travel writer and author Eric Weiner argues for sticking with what you know for breakfast when on the road.

For the traveler, breakfast grounds us in our home culture so we can work up the gumption to explore a new one. It also reminds us that however adventurous our spirit, however global our citizenship, we’re still products of a particular culture. At least once a day, preferably at the start of the day, we need to reconnect with that culture.

It's a great piece of writing. But I couldn't disagree more.

Let's start with the last bit. I travel not to remind myself of where I come from, but to immerse myself in where I don't; the last thing I want to do when on the road is to actively 'reconnect' with my own culture on a daily basis. Besides, for me the simple act of being abroad is in itself an ever-present reminder of where I come from. I never feel so 'American' as when I'm not in America.

As for the foodish aspect of Weiner's article -- it is true that, for many otherwise food-focused travelers, breakfast is the 'Last Frontier'. But getting past that is one of the best things you can do for yourself as a traveler.

Why?

Well, it's a bit like street food. Avoid it, it and you're closing yourself off from not only from a whole class of flavors and dishes but also opportunities for unique experiences and encounters. By the same token, no matter where in the world you are, breakfasting locally will expand your culinary horizons and afford an entree to bits of local life that are lived only in the wee hours.

This was brought home to me in Hoi An almost a year and a half ago, as Dave and Iwalked to the morning market. We passed a traveler's cafe just outside the old town, where four young tourists drank Nescafe (the tell-tale jar sat on their table) and ate toast made with floppy bread from a packaged pre-cut loaf . In a land of fantastic local coffee and bread they were, essentially, eating and drinking garbage. Not only that, they were missing Vietnam's morning-only self.

Dave and I walked on, stopping by our favorite fruit shake stall for a small plastic bag of kumquat 'marmalade' (meant to be eaten with shaved ice I think, but we surmised it might have other uses as well) and then continuing on to a touristy waterfront cafe that until 8am serves Viet-style iced coffee to locals at low tables out front. Dave ordered cafe sua da while I bought a baguette, split in half and warmed on a grill, from a mobile vendor steps away. We drank our coffee and ate our toasted baguette halves with the marmalade squeezed from the bag -- all with a bird's-eye view of the lively comings and goings to and from the market.

I'm not unsympathetic to the impulse to take the easy route when it comes to food, especially first thing in the morning. But we breakfasted on coffee and toast, just as those young travelers had -- yet ours was so much tastier (not to mention cheaper), and came with a slice of Hoi An's a.m. culture (the nature of that street leading to the market changes quite drastically between 7-8am and 9:30 or 10, when guided tour groups begin showing up).

Perfect boiled dumplings with plenty of chili oil. For breakfast.

Some of you reading this might be thinking, 'Easy for you to say. You eat everything.'

It's true, I do eat almost everything. Moreover, I'll eat almost anything at any time of the day. Which makes eating whatever for breakfast, wherever I am, easy. But it hasn't always been so.

When Dave and I lived in Chengdu I was an adherent to the Western breakfast. Every morning Dave left extra early, to pick up a couple of garlicky pork and Chinese chive-stuffed steamed buns before class; I stayed in our apartment, eating instant oatmeal that I'd brought from the U.S. Some days I cycled into town, to the Jinjiang Hotel, for their 'Western breakfast': awful, fluffy bread toasted and served with stone-cold fried eggs and really, really bad coffee.

What can I say? I was 22 years old, not yet grown into my now rather food-obsessed skin. All I know is that now I wish I could have all those mornings -- and all those uneaten steamed buns -- back.

My breakfast breakthrough came 6 years later when we returned to Sichuan for a holiday. In Leshan to see the world's largest buddha statue, we arrived at the dock early only to find that the 7am boat had become the 7:30am boat. Dave went in search of breakfast and I tagged along with no intention of eating.

He ordered boiled jiaozi. Big as coin purses they were, and emitting a Chinese chive reek that might have turned my stomach. But as I watched Dave eat, lips leaking a drop of chili oil and blissfully happy, something gave. He offered his chopsticks and I accepted. As soon as the first dumpling hit my mouth I was ravenous. I ordered my own bowl.

I think of that morning in Leshan as my watershed. From then on anything has been fair game for breakfast. I never afterwards pined for toast and jam or went hungry until lunchtime for the lack of it. That breakfast gifted me another opportunity, every single day, to sample local specialties. I would never again miss out on dishes, or the often memorable -- and irreplaceable -- experience of being part of the local breakfast scrum because of an insistence on sticking to the breakfasts I grew up with.

So -- yesterday at Luang Prabang's morning market we sat shoulder-to-shoulder with a gaggle of local women and tucked into nem kao, then moved down the block for a fantastic bowl of soup noodles made with ragu-like spicy pork mince and our pick of veggie add-ins. To my knowledge neither of these dishes are sold here outside of breakfast hours.

In a village on Java our morning hungries led us to a lone mobile cart, where we watched children tromp to school and women carry goods to market while warming our hands and stomachs with perhaps the most delicious rice porridge I've ever eaten. We exchanged some conversation with locals, and ate well. The latter took on extra importance when we found that evening how limited (and of limited appeal) post-breakfast dining options were.

In Saigon a grilled pork and rice breakfast gave us a ringside seat as a neighborhood woke on a weekend morning. In George Town a dish of noodles topped with gloppy five spice-infused sauce and thick slices of crackly-skinned pork belly gave us a reason to investigate a storied coffee shop we'd walked by a hundred times.

 

Breakfast noodles, with mutton and mutton parts.

If not for my openness to noodles first thing in the morning we might have left Langzhong, an ancient river town in northeastern Sichuan, without ever realizing that many of its residents are Hui.

Though there are a couple of Muslim bakeries in the old city there appear to be no restaurants (at least not that we could find). There are, however, a whole row of Muslim noodle shops on the street leading to the market. Open only in the morning, they all serve the same thing: za mian ('mixed' noodles), made with mutton and mutton parts.

Quality varies among the shops; the most atmospheric also serves the most delicious version of za mian, with a rich meaty broth and very substantial pasta. It's also run by a woman -- the only shop in the bunch -- with a big voice (she can really bark orders) and a friendly smile. (Note the glass jar next to the wall -- it holds meizi jiu, a not-too-sweet fruit wine with more than a bit of alcoholic punch.)

When I travel I aim for the tastiest morning meal rather than one that will remind me of home. So in Chengdu, when I spotted an 8am crowd at a tiny shop in Xiao Jia He district I made sure to return the next day.

I found wonderfully fresh doujiang (soy milk), crispy fried crullers with barely a lick of grease, porky steamed buns, and a characterful crowd.

 

We ate in close, steamy quarters against a backdrop of bellowed orders, chatter around mouths full of dough, the clang of metal ladle against doujiang pot. In other words, we ate immersed in China -- as much a great experience as a delicious one.

I was quadruply thankful for my tendency to eat outside the breakfast box on our last day in the city.

I'm a jiaozi (boiled dumpling) lover, and we tried many during our 3 weeks in Sichuan. But none quite measured up to the best we ate at least 4 times a week in 1985, or even to my liberating bowlful in Leshan.

It was 10am, we were strolling down one last narrow lane, and we had to get back to our hotel to pack. And there she was: a lone vendor, stuffing and crimping wontons and dumplings. Her set-up -- a folding table and chair piled with dumplings, a single table surrounded by stools for customers, one pot boiling over a charcoal fire -- told me all I needed to know: this was going to be the jiaozi I'd been looking for.

 

And it was. It really and truly was, with skins thick enough to boast a chew but with enough elasticity to keep from gumming up in the boiling water, a porky filling heavy on Chinese chives, and a sauce made with fragrant sweetened soy with a hint of anise.

 

Her homemade pao cai, tart and garlicky and made with slices of fresh mustard tuber, was icing on the cake.

And if I still turned my nose up at anything other than my own country's breakfast food for breakfast, I'd have missed it all.

Comments

[Tracey@Tangled Noodle]

I read this wonderful post shortly after finishing my daily a.m. bowl of yogurt and granola. Routine is wonderful at home, when I have to stay focused on assignments and deadlines, but on holiday, the schedule is happily tossed. Those days are about experience without so many constraints, whether it comes from a clock or from my own habits.

A breakfast during our recent vacation in the Philippines: my husband filled his bowl not with cold cereal as usual, but with steaming arroz caldo garnished with salted egg, chicharon and crispy garlic, and a side bangus (mikfish) or longanisa. I, on the other hand, focused on the bibingka - a steamed rice cake, topped with salted egg, slathered in butter and sprinkled with freshly grated coconut. My 8 year old nephew ate sushi, marveling all the while to his mom about being able to do so!

Many destinations have become quite adept at recreating the 'comforts of home', but such holidays are brief enough already. I'll be home soon enough to have yogurt and granola - in the meantime, please pass the dumplings!

[Lesley]

Just stumbled on this via ZesterDaily's Twitter feed. Beautiful photos, and you're so right! Just came back from a month in India, and among my absolute favorite things there were the savory breakfasts: potato parathas smeared with butter and yogurt, and spicy, gingery upma. God. It was fabulous! I can't imagine how much I would've missed if I would've stuck with omelets and corn flakes the whole time.

[J2Kfm]

What a good post. This is right on the spot. I tend to have whatever the locals have, unless breakfast is provided by the hotel/guessthouse for sometimes toast and coffee would just do.

But nothing beats GREAT street food. Loved those shots of yours.

[Albert]

Robyn, your point very well taken.

Katy, yes, I went to 建中. The noodle stand was on a side street perpendicular to 南海路 (can't recall the name or number of the street) that borders the side of the campus. I ate there last time I was in Taipei, ~5 years ago, it is no longer a cart, but now a store front. Still run by the same couple and serving the same noodles and fish ball soup.

[Lina]

I love this post! I much prefer rice, noodles or congee for breakfast than toast or cornflakes.

[lara dunston]

Brilliant post! We couldn't agree with you more! Trying local breakfasts and adjusting to the local custom is one of the most fun parts of culinary travel for us.

See our 'Weekend Eggs' series we're undertaking as part of our Grantourismo project this year http://grantourismotravels.com/category/weekend-eggs/

Essentially, it's about identifying the quintessential local breakfast in a place - after trying many of them during the course of our 2 weeks there - then asking locals for recipes and creating our own dish based on local inspiration. Sometimes these will be the classic recipes and other times they'll be our version.

We chose eggs because most cultures have some kind of eggs in their breakfast, but we appreciate that say in Thailand it might be more of an all-day dish like Pad Thai - which actually uses eggs in it anyway!

[Ashlee]

This is a great argument for trying local food. Especially considering the often dodgy Western-style breakfasts you get around Asia anyway (at least in cheap guesthouses in Indonesia)... sweet bread for toast, fluorescent pink jams... kinda ick. I'll take banana pancakes or bubur ayam over that anyday, despite the similar sugar content in the pancakes...

I just wish I was one of those people up early enough or organized enough to regularly eat breakfast... I'm one of those naughty people who often skips the most important meal of the day... ooops. But this has got me thinking of doing more food exploring in the mornings...

[James in Beijing]

I always found that the true travelers--and foodies--are the ones who eat for breakfast whatever the locals are eating. I have had some amazing dishes at breakfast on my travels, and one of my favorite breakfasts now is Chinese jianbing or shengjian bao.

[Kristina]

Fabulous! I'm with you; eat whatever you want no matter the time of day.
When I travel I mix it up and listen to my gut, literally. Sometimes that means street food or noodles, and sometimes that's yogurt and toast. It all depends on how I feel that day.
Those dumplings look AMAZING!

[dena]

Yes!! often the best meal of the day is breakfast, soup with market locals, porridge in an alleyway... hotel western breakfast seems somehow sad and quite awful-
an aside to PETE (3-13 post) Long Beach CA, if that is where you are, is right next to Westminster, home of the largest population of Vietnamese people in the US... and some are also in LB... look on line for and endless list of VN restaurants in LB and "little Saigon" - you may be happy!!

[Su-Lin]

While I'm totally unable to wake up and stomach breakfast on most days at home, I pretty much jump out of bed full of excitement when on holidays and love to explore the eating options around me. I clicked through to that article you linked to at the top of your post and I just don't get that guy at all. It sounds like you've definitely made up for the years of missed breakfast opportunities too!

[fm]

but... what about vegetarians? almost everything featured here is meat-infused somehow. for me, that's part of the difficulty. love the idea of the baguette in Hoi An though! regardless, i know and appreciate where you are coming from, since I am south-east asian :)

[Marc]

I'm missing garlic fried rice, fried eggs and fried tapa (a thin, cured, sun-dried, preferably venison/deer meat) from the Philippines. Served with a dipping sauce of fish sauce, vinegar chopped garlic and fresh chili and slices of fresh tomatoes and achara (pickled papaya strings). Or if venison is too much in the morning, how about fried milkfish marinated first in garlic and vinegar?

With a cup of thick, hot tsokolate eh you've had there before.

[Trevor (Guoxuan) Wang]

I really enjoyed reading your blog because I am Chinese and growing up eating all of the foods that you mentioned. The list is my personal favourite and they are frequently the Chinese foods that my parents or myself cook often for breakfast. I also love Sichuan food, which is my favourite branch among the 8 branches of Chinese cuisine since it is the spiciest and tastiest for me. I always love adding lots of chili sauce for my dumplings and my family cannot understand why I am the only one who loves hot food. Actually, before I went abroad to study, my last breakfast and dinner were with my dad. We had some steamed buns with hot sauce in a hutong in Beijing for breakfast, and spicy boiled fish, a most famous Sichuan dish for dinner. All of those familiar and beautiful memories accompany me when I study at University of Toronto. The one thing that I miss the most is deep fried crispy cruller because it is very hard to find it abroad and it is always so funny when my uncle and cousin went back to China, the first food they wanted to eat so badly was crispy cruller. In our Chinese tradition, a proverb says that "The key moment of the day is in the morning" and a good start of the day is eating strong faloured or greasy foods so that you do not feel hungry easily until it is lunch time again.