Food & Travel Guide to Koh Chang, Thailand – What to See, Eat & Do

We had wanted to visit Koh Chang as it was a quaint island. An island of beaches and palm trees. Of simple pleasures, like a swim after breakfast or a plate of fresh morning glory stir-fried with chillies. It is an island far from Bangkok. Five hours by car and another 30 minutes by boat. It is nothing like the spectacular scenes of Phuket or Krabi. But Koh Chang grows on you.

THE ISLAND

The island is mostly jungles. A road goes all around the island but none that cuts through Koh Chang National Park. In the southeast near Memorial Beach is a fishing village where we have handmade crab cakes and fried barracuda – all fresh from the sea – at Salakphet. In the west where civilisation prevails, there is a touch more hustle and bustle. Outside Happy Restaurant, duck and chicken are cooked on a spit-roast, their aroma beckoning guests in. Carts of grapes, persimmons, bananas and watermelons are placed on the road for sale. In the evenings, a handful of street vendors are grilling squid and lemongrass seabass.

On a sunny day, we are whisked away to the national park to see clownfish and swim in an uninhabited beach. By dinnertime, we find ourselves at an unnamed road marked by the flashy pink coloured menus that serve as the stalls’ signboards. There is an imaginary boundary separating each stall and we end up at Thai Food Sor Chuanshim having grilled pork neck, chicken wings and morning glory.

KAI BAE BEACH

The sun is our cue to go to the beach near our hotel. In the winter months of November to February, the sun is remarkably congenial at Kai Bae Beach. There is a regular breeze that makes the sea and sand welcoming. With the shade of palm trees that fringe the beach, we can easily slip onto a beach towel with a coconut on the side and go for the occasional swim. Others are dozing off under a book or building sandcastles. When sunset comes, Roy goes out to the tidal pools to look for hermit crabs scuttling in between the sand holes. There really isn’t much to do at the beach, and that’s pure bliss.

GOOD LUCK SEAFOOD

There are two things that keeps drawing us to this place. One: the food. Two: Koy. Roy calls him the maître d. He’s the one to go to when you need a seat, a drink, another plate of chicken wings. Anything you need, Koy makes it happen. The first time we went to Good Luck, Koy told us, “Hope to see you here at dinner!” And he did. We had grilled squid, chicken wings, morning glory and prawns with glass noodles. We went back again and again (glass noodles with crabs the second time), each time topping the previous meal. On the night before we left the island, we order the seabass baked in salt. The fish, moist and well-cooked from the salt crust, is dipped into the most perfect chilli sauce. I can’t think of a better meal in Thailand.

AWA HOTEL

On the day we are heading back to Bangkok, the sun is shining at its brightest. A light breeze ruffles the sun-tinted fronds of the palm trees as we indulge in a breakfast of watermelon, pancakes and waffles at AWA Hotel. As we are driven to the pier, we gaze at the dreamy kodak-coloured scenes that pass us by through the window and we wish we had stayed in Koh Chang just a little longer.

Food & Travel Guide to Paris, France – What to See, Eat & Do

France

Our first night in Paris was a whirlwind. Roy was finding his way past a million cars to the 9th arrondissement where we dropped off our luggages at our hotel and ran to our dinner reservation at Bellanger. We arrived feeling flustered and was led into the brasserie which looked like an intimate bar of fashionable people drinking wine to the tunes of a Saint Laurent playlist. Our waiter was a tall, charming man who served us a delicious tray of saucisse, grilled flank steak and leeks with mustard vinaigrette. The entire time, waiters who looked like they had just finished shooting a Jacquemus ad were bringing food to the tables. When it was time for dessert, we ordered the Paris Brest. Our waiter flashed us the most charming smile and said approvingly, “Best dessert ever guys.”

Everything feels like a blur now but I can still remember this beautiful night in Paris.

PARISIAN CLASSICS

Paris is a place of old cuisine. Places like Bistrot Paul Bert have stood the test of time, so old that even the French get preferential tables and classics like sole meuniere and steak au poivre are still served. In the 10th arrondissement, the creperie La Droguerie makes the most traditional of French crepe – ham, cheese and egg.

We were looking for a very old French dish – frog legs à la persillade – when we found Roger La Grenouille in the 11th arrondissement. Frog legs are an old world classic. Something that is rarely seen these days, even in the South of France. We only came for the things that the French do best – roasted bone marrow, duck confit, tarte tartin and of course, frog legs. During our dinner, an American couple brought in a framed drawing as rainwater trailed their umbrellas. They were not here for dinner, just to return a drawing to the restaurant. There was a commotion and then a bottle of champagne was popped. They were here during the early days of the restaurant when everyone was wearing frog hats. They got the artwork then and wanted to return it now. “It was around 30 years ago. It was a wild time,” they told us as they sipped from their glasses. “Champagne for you too!” A man from the restaurant, whom we could only presume was an important person in the restaurant’s legacy, insisted. As we drank our champagne, we saw him drinking his with tears in his eyes. It was a touching moment for a restaurant to be remembered for such a long time.

THE FRENCH CHICKEN

The French chicken. An undeniable classic. We had ours at Brasserie Martin. Roy loves the thigh and I love the breast. I always argue that when done right, the breast will be moist. To each their own. I love chicken roasted the simple way. The French way. Only salt and pepper. Maybe a little lemon or herbs but nothing more. The rest is technique, something I only leave to the professionals. The timing, the temperature, the rotisserie. At the end of it, I can truly say that the no one does a roast chicken better than the French.

SHOPPING

We started our day with a lunch of escargots, duck confit, beef bourguignon and french toast at Le Petit Bouillon Pharamond. It was a long queue but the waiter gave us a table outside where thin well-dressed ladies with cigarettes preside. The day was supposed to be just about food. Parisian food. But Paris was also fashion. After a few shirts at Café Coton (Roy of course), we shopped for cookware at E. Dehillerin and chocolates at François Pralus. Then came the time for our pre-dinner snack – a coffee, croissant and kouign-amann at Bo & Mie.

PAIN D’ANTOINE

I never thought I could like something more than a pain au chocolat in Paris. It was a simple pastry at Farine & O that resembles a pain au chocolat. It was a pain d’antoine – orange zest in the flaky pastry and strips of hard chocolate on the outside. Chefs of Paris do not only replicate recipes of a hundred years ago. They change. They innovate. They are France’s capital. Chocolate and orange are a match made in heaven.

BRASSERIE BELLANGER

A few days later, we find ourselves back at Bellanger. Me having a cabbage roll and Roy, the croque madame (he only likes the madame, not monsieur). Bellanger, together with their other restaurants Martin, Dubillot, Charlie, Des Prés and Grouvie, call themselves La Nouvelle Garde. The new guard. The classics, but embellished. There is always something trendy on the menu. Marrow gratin on oysters. French blood sausage fried and dipped in applesauce. Caviar on potato dauphine. All served on polished porcelain or silverware. This is what Paris does best: fashion.

Food & Travel Guide to the Gili Islands, Lombok – What to See, Eat & Do

Indonesia

Entering the southern port of Gili Trawangan is like stepping into a bazaar. Beachgoers cycle past even more beachgoers in their flip flops, their faces flushed pink from the sun. Musicians are playing reggae music to people lounging on beanbags, their feet stretched out on the sand. The music mingles with the smoke floating from the squids and tuna being grilled at restaurants decorated with seashell ornaments. We are being driven to the north by a horse trotting on the ground that changes from sand to deep red earth again and again to no particular rhythm. Closer to the north, the sounds of civilisation dissipate, replaced by cicadas and crowing chickens. Finally we pull up in front of our hotel and the ocean comes into full view. We kick off our sandals and sink into the water, almost forgetting that it’s time for dinner.

FOOD

In a way, the food on Gili Trawangan reflects the people who had come, loved and stayed. One day, we are having tagliatelle with tuna and homemade gnocchi at My House. On another, we are having skewered seafood slathered in tomato sauce at Warung Jaman Now. At the Caribbean Casa Vintage Beach, we are having cassava wedges when we find out that “The dumplings are sold out.” As we are having jerk chicken and fish stew, the waiters carry more plates to our table that is already overflowing with food. Did they misunderstand our orders? To our astonished eyes, they burst out laughing and chuckle, “Joke, it’s a joke.” We join in the laughter when we realise the meaning of it all. Island life can be pleasantly unserious.

BOAT TRIP

An early morning wake up call leads to a boat ride around the three islands with Babas and Sukry from Gili Bahari Cruise. We can’t resist plunging into the clear water for a swim before emerging for grilled bananas drizzled with tahini on toasts. It didn’t take long for us to reach Gili Meno where the ocean is met by the softest, whitest sand. I like beaches like this. It’s just bliss rolling around in the spotless sand and sea. On the way back, Babas picks up a conch from the water. After examining it, he says, “We have to throw it back. It’s too small.” It’s no wonder that the turtles love the sparkling waters of the Gilis.

SUMI SATE

It was a rainy day when we found ourselves at Sumi Sate. A makeshift stall that had pots of boiling bakso soup and sates cooking on charcoal. That day, even the rain could not dampen the charcoal fire that was sizzling the rows of chicken and beef skewered on bamboo sticks. We could never forget this meal, the best – in our opinion – of the island. For me, it was the sate dipped in the smooth-as-butter peanut sauce. As for Roy, the bakso won his heart.

NERO NORTH

Our mornings are spent at the beach in front of Nero North swimming with the turtles as they breakfast on coral reefs. We do our best to idle our time away on the beach, having a glass of papaya juice or two. By the time we get up from the water, we are ready for our own breakfast of mee goreng and poached eggs on spinach toasts which lasts until the afternoon sun makes it too glaring to head to the beach. I can’t think of a better way to spend a morning at the Gilis.