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

[John McCollum]

I can't tell you how much I love this. I'm bringing my whole family -- wife and kids 11, 12 and 4 -- to Cambodia and Northern Thailand for almost three months this summer.

I already have my favorite breakfast spots -- a pho stand across from a Cham mosque in Phnom Penh, a streetside stall between Chiang Mai and Doi Saket, and many more -- but I can't wait to explore and meet new people and eat new and unusual things.

For someone like me who spends months each year in SE Asia, your blog is unspeakably beautiful, a siren song wooing me back to my second -- and vastly more delicious -- home.

I think I might have a blog crush.

[spondoolix]

I agree with your experienced words and hugely enjoyed the post and it's food/mood photography.
The article took me back in time to past and memorable Asian breakfasts. I savored them again for free in my imagination.

[Ling]

As much as I miss the diner breakfasts the hubby and I had every weekend when we lived in Chicago, it's extremely hard to beat the breakfast treats from this part of the world. This is one of my favourite posts from your blog ever. I've just had dinner, but I seriously could scarf a bowl of those dumplings dripping in chilli oil. And those nem kao. Gah.

[Sunny]

Brava! Even more than your other (still excellent) posts, this one really moved me.

And just to demonstrate that the breakfast thing goes both ways: this Filipino had scrapple with maple syrup in the US for breakfast, thought it was bizarre, but really enjoyed it. (And even thought it would go really well with garlic fried rice.)

[Charlotte]

I totally agree with you. Which is why I refuse to eat Western breakfasts in Asia. Eggs, toast, potatoes, bacon... So boring and uninspired. The last time we were in Shanghai, we had sheng jian bao (pan fried, doughier version of xiao long baos) almost every single day for breakfast. Then we would cross the street to the xiao long bao place for dessert... (yes, breakfast dessert)

The hotel manager was puzzled as to why we left so early in the morning and, as we left, would ask us if we had breakfast already. In fact he gave us coupons for the hotel breakfast but we never used it!

I can get eggs, bacon, potatoes, pancakes, and whatnot when I return to the US. When I am in Asia, I want the things I cannot get easily when I am home!

[Teri Y]

Thank you for this great article. It accurately describes what a traveler is. I travel to gain new experiences and to immerse myself in another culture that I otherwise would not get to experience. If not, what's the point of being a traveler? Perhaps this is the difference between one who is a traveler and one who is a tourist? A tourist may be physically traveling but may not necessarily be willing to be immersed in another culture.

[Jessie]

bravo robyn! what a great post! 'I travel not to remind myself of where I come from, but to immerse myself in where I don't' - you said it in a nutshell!

and of course i couldn't agree more - in fact weiner's article is a little contradictory i think - he says that a western breakfast abroad transports him back to his childhood family kitchen; if so, i wanna know where he's dining! because as you say, most western breakfasts abroad are complete rubbish.

sometimes i crave something bland and light for breakfast i have to admit (i'm not such a chilli fiend as you!), but so do lots of people all over the world - hence why they have soymilk, rice porridge, dumplings...oh god i'm hungry.

[John McCollum]

My family traveled to China a few years ago to adopt my daughter, and we spent some time in Guangzhou, the birthplace of Cantonese cuisine. The variety and quality of food was extraordinary, yet we ran into a number of Americans there who ate every meal at the hotel restaurant or at Lucy's, a crappy Westernized "bar and grill."

I honestly don't understand this. Why travel if you hate the culture you're visiting?

[Pete]

Robyn, I just wanted to let you know what an absolutely beautiful piece of essay you just wrote.

Sitting here in Long Beach (where I'm going to be for the next month, and with PF Chang's, yech, providing the only "exotic" touch to my daily culinary experiences), your vivid description, and David's beautiful photos, of Sichuanese dumplings & noodles are bringing a tear to my eye!

[Albert]

I really like how fired up you got over this topic, fantastic.

Noodle in the morning, can't agree with you more.

In Taipei, on a side street next to the high school I attended, a young couple sold nothing but thin, handmade noodle toss in a little fish sauce and scallion (dark vinegar and chili sauce on the table) and 福州 style fish balls in a light broth (egg flower or poach egg optional), from a small cart. I don't know what time they started, I usually get there around 6:45am, they were usually done by 10, sold out.

for two years, I ate a medium bowl of noodle, two fish balls with a poach egg every weekday. this is a very atypical breakfast for taiwan, but judging from the number of people lining up and waiting for the dozen or so chairs around the few folding tables, a fairly popular one in the neighborhood.

while I definitely eat just about anything when I am traveling (or at home, for that matter). I still think about eating noodles and fishballs for breakfast all the time (good fish balls are impossible to find in north america). so I guess I partly agree with Weiner that some home breakfast food will always occupy a spot in the heart of even avid travelers.

but as some say, you have to let stuff go in order to gain ....

[Diane]

Oh - eating breakfasts in new places is my FAVORITE part of traveling! It really gives you a window into local culture. Dinner food can be tarted up and westernized, but most cultures want the real deal for breakfast. Kanom jeen to idlis to congee to kicheree - I love it all!

Plus, it doesn't hurt that I far prefer savory, spicy foods in the AM to cereal (blecch) or toast.

[Marie]

This is fantastic writing and expresses something I've felt for a long time. Unfortunately though, I'm reading before breakfast and now can't think of one place to get jiaozi this early in the morning in Auckland to appease my craving!

[kirbie]

This post was wonderfully written. One of my favorites. I've never given much thought about the topic, but I don't think I'll ever eat an American breakfast again while traveling.

[Mila Tan]

Wonderful article, and complete agreement about how limiting our world would be if all we ate was our own culture's food for breakfast. I never understood the idea that certain foods are only eaten at breakfast anyway. Rice, noodles, bread, potatoes, meat, fish, fruit, vegetables, sweet, spicy, sour, salty (ok, maybe not bitter), it's all good any time, any day.
I must go and try those pork floss dusted donuts I just saw....

[Brian Asis]

This topic was so heartfelt and well thought that I had to read it twice :) Tradition is something that you will really treasure. Now I'm craving for breakfast my mother used to cook.

[Robyn]

Thanks everyone for reading, and for your comments.

John - lucky you, three months! Do check out the Friday am Cin Haw market in front of the mosque in Chiang Mai. There are two 'Shan donut' sellers -- searchable on this blog -- the one closer to the entrance makes the best version. And the mohinga is excellent!

Ling - I agree. Breakfasts in Asia are wonderful as well as wonderfully varied. There's really something for everyone.

Sunny - scrapple ... good for you. Would go well with garlic fried rice, something like a longaniza!

Charlotte - I'll eat eggs and toast in Asia if it's part of the local scene. When we lived in Saigon a vendor outside our house made the best fried eggs and served them with toasted baguette. But if eggs and bread aren't part of the local morning vernacular ... no way.

Teri - Right. Maybe we should be talking about 'traveler breakfasts' versus 'tourist breakfasts'.

Jessie - good point. I've never had a contrived 'Western breakfast' abroad that was any good. Oh wait -- I admit to eggs benedict at a hotel many years ago in Siem Reap when we were in a rush before heading to the airport. (And they were the best eggs benedict I ever had!)

John - it's hard for some pple to get out there, especially when it comes to food. I understand that. But sticking a toe in with breakfast is a great way to set the tone for an immersive rest of the day. You know, you gotta walk before you can run, that sort of thing.

Thanks Pete. But we are sorry to drive you to tears!

Albert - I understand. But I think you're talking more about nostalgia for a certain food (that happened to be served only at breakfast time) than about a need to reconnect with your own culture on a daily basis. I bet if you were in Taipei you'd *still* be thinking about those noodles every morning (they sound fantastic, by the way. Saw nothing like that in 3 weeks on Taiwan.)

Good point Diane. Local breakfasts are usually very, well, local. When I'm in Asia I mostly prefer savory for breakfast. But if I am back in the USA during stone fruit season I quite quickly slip back into a Cheerios-with-heaps of peaches/nectarines/berries habit.

One thing I didn't note in this piece is that learning to eat most anything for breakfast in Asia turned me into an any-leftovers-for-breakfast person back in the US. Pizza, pasta, fried rice, potatoes gratin, you name it --- I'll eat any leftovers at all in the am as my first meal.

Marie, thank you. I suppose you could keep some jiaozi in the freezer for occasions such as these....

Thanks Kirbie. American breakfasts are for travelling ... in America.

Mila - I draw the line at floss-dusted donuts.

Cheers, Brian.

[Pelin]

i want to put my hand through the screen and eat it all up:) beautiful photos...yummm.

[Christine @ Tea for Two Sisters]

This post was wonderfully written Robyn. There are so many good eats, and as you pointed out, all you have to do is try unfamiliar things. Eat where the locals eat, huh?

I'm still trying to let go and venture outside of my comfort zone. I've always been a picky eater, and if I hadn't moved out on my own for school, I doubt I'd enjoy some of the things I've tried. For myself, I can't help but make assumptions about a dish before trying it, which ruins the experience for me. I'll be taking a trip to Taiwan and Beijing in May and I hope that I'll wake up sooner rather than later. Do you have any tips?

[Jencrafted]

Truly enjoyed this post. About eating leftovers for breakfast, that's what we always do in our household. Strange, I've never given it much thoughts. Reading your recent food adventure in Chiang Mai made me crave for Thai food; that's what we had for dinner last night and the leftovers of Pad See Ew and Basil Tofu for b'fast this morning :-)

[Ann]

I totally agree with you on breakfast, especially in Vietnam. In Hoi An my friends and I shared a delicious banh mi op la on the street that was only available at the wee hours of the morning. The baguettes were heavenly -- fresh out of the oven and delivered by a man with a basket full of them on his bike. Here in Malaysia, where I live now, breakfast is hands-down my favorite meal of the day. A good bowl of curry laksa and I'm set to start my day!

[Rasa Malaysia]

I agree with you, when traveling, you want to immerse in the local culture as much as possible, and that includes breakfast and other meals of the days, if possible. Plus traveling is always about that fleeting few days, so take in whatever the place has to offer because you will go back to the routine breakfast just as soon as you leave the place.

[Katy Biggs]

Albert, was your high school near or in 建國南路?

[Katy Biggs]

I just noticed 'Top posts' - is it a new feature or I just didn't notice before? Is it by the number of hits or what? China is 'in the lead', isn't it?!

[Nate @ House of Annie]

Beautifully written article, Robyn! I cannot see why anyone would want to subject themselves to mediocre Western hotel breakfasts when something delicious awaits just out the door and around the corner.

Here's the choice I faced one Wintry Beijing morning, many moons ago: flat eggs, lifeless sausage, overcooked bacon...or roasted sweet potatoes hot from the cart on the sidewalk right outside the hotel's revolving doors...no brainer!

[Monica]

As a first -year university student deprived of my mom's home-cooked Chinese food...reading your blog is torturous. I drool every.single.time.