I didn’t think there was anything left in Southeast Asia that could shock me. I’ve spent my fair share of time in the region and the rule of thumb is that anything goes.
I’ve had elephants walk by my apartment window in Bangkok. A coconut once fell from roof of my house in Bali, out of which a snake emerged and slithered off.
Even in orderly, organized, rule abiding, deity and government (which are merged in some people’s view) fearing Singapore – I walked out of my condo building one day, spotted a giant monitor lizard by the tennis courts and helped the groundskeepers capture it. Key lesson – monitor lizards hunker down and freeze if you stare them in the eye – or at least mine did.
I’ve seen human placentas in jars for sale in Chinese medicine shops in Taiwan. One day in Bali, I witnessed a woman walking down the road with a car engine on her head. In Saigon, someone down the street from our hotel had two monkeys in a cage in front of their shop everyday. Big monkeys. I have no idea what that was about. But it made perfect sense in Southeast Asia. Why not keep two monkeys in a cage in front of your shop?
However, here in tame, touristy, fairly uneventful Nha Trang, I found myself a little taken aback.
We were handed a menu that had not just a dish, but entire sections each of crocodile, ostrich, venison, eel, frog…. and porcupine. Apparently, porcupine can be braised, stir fried, smoked, made into soup and served with noodles.
How do they make porcupine? Very carefully.
Although I’ve seen all the others, I always think crocodile is a little strange. After all, there’s nothing about a crocodile that makes me think, “Now there’s some fine eating….”
But it seems the town likes to make handbags and other accessories of crocodile and ostrich. This means, in a perverse way, we should applaud the people of Nha Trang because if they’re going to raise or hunt and kill these animals, at least they use every part of the crocodile or ostrich. That means it’s somewhat ecologically sound. They’re practically Native American saints, really….
That’s the interesting about Southeast Asia – and life, really – there are a lot of ways to look at it. The crocodile combo with fried rice and soup can be a wonderfully exotic delicacy, or something that makes the crocodile handbag in the shop down the way a little less of an extravagant waste. Or – in seven year-old parlance – just barfy.
Other delicacies in Nha Trang are a lot more popular with the Western set – and particularly my wife. As with most places on the sea, Nha Trang is famous for its seafood. Although some places tell you their seafood is fresh – even though it’s really flown in frozen from the other side of the world, Nha Trang isn’t joking.
Simply look a few miles down the cost from the beaches and coves are filled with fish farms, fishing nets and round-the-clock fishing operations. The South Central Coast region of Vietnam takes its fishing seriously.
Not only does every restaurant in town offer fresh seafood – even the ones serving porcupine – but shellfish is literally a concession on the beach. Men and women caring heaving baskets walk around the beaches all day and half the night offering fresh lobster, crab, shrimp, fish, scallops, and sea snails for as little $10-$15 for a large combo platter.
Naturally, it didn’t take long for Emily to become curious about what these people had in the large pots in their baskets. When a woman lifted the lid to reveal countless lobsters in ice and then another lid to a box filled with steaming fresh crabs, Emily’s jaw dropped in awe.
The thing is, lobster is like a Scooby Snack for my wife.
Much like the crabs themselves, Emily had to stew on this information for a day. She struggled over two issues.
First, the beach we frequent is private. The restaurant and club has a no outside food rule – which is totally fair since they have waiter service at the lounges. That’s their business.
Secondly – and I think more obviously – was shellfish being toted around a beach.
Yesterday, Emily made several visits to the crab and lobster ladies. Something about the idea of fresh lobster and crab freshly made on the beach was irresistible to her. Dying from red tide, however, was not. So, she needed to investigate the situation carefully with particular regard to the preservation methods being used on these crustacean delights.
After determining that everything was in fact, being kept buried in ice in coolers and metal pots, Emily decided that she had to have it.
That’s when I got roped into the deal. We went down to the beach after dark and visited the woman whose baskets Emily had been examining. For 300,000 Dong ($15.00), Emily ordered the large platter that included one whole lobster, three prawns, two crabs, two scallops on the half shell, and three other crustaceans we couldn’t identify that Emily didn’t eat.
The lobster lady – as I like to call her – and her cohorts had portable, round barbecues in their baskets with hot coals. Before our eyes, they sliced open lobsters, prawns and the other unidentified crustaceans, and barbecued them while squatting down on the sand. The crabs had already been steamed, so they just got a little last minute warming.
As the lady brought us this seafood feast, she squatted and cut all the meat out with scissors.
“I cut, you eat!”
During this time, we learned that she eats lobster for lunch and crab for dinner everyday. Her husband and son go out fishing at a nearby island every night. They bring home their catch and she begins selling it at 7am each day at the morning market along the beach. That’s where the locals and the restaurants get their seafood.
Then, she takes whatever’s left and begins her portable seafood barbecue concession business on the beach at 11am and works until about 8pm or whenever business stops coming.
The lobster lady does this seven days a week.
As the lobster lady and company did their barbecuing, Emily was taking pictures and saying things like, “This is amazing!”, “This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”
Meanwhile, I realized I was sketched out. It seemed to me that there were plenty of restaurants whose quality and sanitation – perhaps irrationally, because really you never know what goes on in the back of a restaurant – I would trust more.
Also, I really don’t love taking an animal apart to get to the little bit of meat inside. I know the meat I eat comes from animals and I might not enjoy chicken as much if I had to kill it and feather it – but in reality, I don’t and I greatly enjoy boneless chicken breast.
Something about digging through lobster parts, goo and guts to dig out the part that’s good eating, doesn’t work for me. I would prefer a professional in a kitchen do it. Or, perhaps not at all. I don’t really love it that much.
All that to say, Emily got to enjoy the entire platter which she voraciously consumed, and I had crepes at this great little restaurant and wine bar owned by a French guy. Vive La France.
Like the porcupine – the seafood feast from a basket-carrying seafood vendor on the beach was an experience I’ve only seen in Nha Trang. It was something new. Perhaps not shocking, but interesting. And yet another example of how Emily – especially where lobster is at stake – is a bold and daring traveler who jumps into new experiences wholeheartedly – and in some cases, open stomached.
I’m happy to report she enjoyed her meal and had no digestive complications.
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