Black glutinous rice with fresh coconut
This book is dedicated to the memory of Khun Akorn
My thanks to:
The Intercontinental Hotel, Bangkok
Pakistan International Airways
The directors and staff of the Burasari Hotel, Phuket
My long-suffering editor Barbara Dixon
My wife Tess (thank God she knows how to use a laptop!)
With thanks to Nirun Jirapermpoon
and the Siam Royal Orchid restaurant 367 Uxbridge Road, London W3 for their help with translation
Introduction
On this early Bangkok morning, the waiter brings me a bowl of plump, duck red Thai curry. I am drinking apple juice, it is six o’clock in the morning and yet the Intercontinental Hotel, where I am staying for free, is buzzing. Multilingual businessmen are eating with one hand while the other clamps their mobile phones to their ears. If you suffer from a hangover or jetlag, there is nothing better than this exquisite spicy food I am eating. My very good friends at Pakistan International Airways kindly flew me to Bangkok, but by the global scenic route (of course, I am not complaining because the flight was free – thank you, PIA) and, I must say, the in-flight Pakistani food is delicious. The reason I am wrecked at breakfast time like a wet sack of rice is because I flew from Heathrow to Lahore, from Lahore to Islamabad, from Islamabad to Hong Kong and Hong Kong to Bangkok and did not sleep a wink.
My driver, Pata, is waiting to take me away on this Sunday morning to the huge market where I will have another breakfast, this time of succulent, ripe mango and creamy sticky rice. A hawker, standing behind his mobile kitchen, built on an elaborate tricycle, laughs with charming disbelief when I request crushed, dried chillies to be sprinkled on my mango. That, washed down with the milk from a freshly decapitated coconut, has brought me and the morning back to life. For four hours I walk up and down the crowded stalls, while my photographer is taking pictures.
A superb meal aboard Pakistan International Airways.
Naheed Tabassum, a charming member of the crew.
My good friend Mr John Nielsen of the Intercontinental Hotel, Bangkok.
Street food at Chatuchak Market, Bangkok.
Grilling sticky rice and shrimp in banana leaves at Chatuchak Market.
Luscious tropical fruit at the market.
Coconut juice is very refreshing in the heat of Bangkok.
It is the rainy season and the humidity and temperature are insupportable. However, the charm of Thailand is washing over me like soft rain and it is funny to think that fifteen or sixteen years ago I was sitting in a hotel eating breakfast, but that time in Newcastle. We were about to film a BBC programme called ‘Far Flung Floyd’ and were due to go to Thailand. The general manager of the Gosforth Park Hotel told me I would enjoy meeting Thai hotelier Khun Akorn and his wife Chompanut. I asked him how he knew more about my life and my work than I. Enigmatically he said, ‘Wait and see’ and lit a cigar and swept out of the room.
I must point out that at that time, Akorn owned the largest hotel chain in Thailand, an empire that stretched from virtually the borders of Burma to the enchanting island of Samui. Akorn is sadly no longer with us, but because of him, and indeed his wife and his staff, every door in the country was opened to us during our filming. In his philosophical and altruistic way, Akorn wanted no commercial credit for what he did. He didn’t want his hotel logos to appear on camera, he just wanted to assist us to show that Thailand is a magical destination. I frequently stayed with Akorn on Samui and, over a bottle of Black Label, we would talk of food and wine and Buddhism, while he puffed on an aromatic cigar as the waves lapped onto the nearby beach. I dedicate this book to him and his family.
These grilled sticky rice in banana leaf rolls are jolly good.
The wonderful beaches of the island of Phuket, getting back to normal after the Tsunami.
So, here I am again, and now we’ve travelled to Phuket, where I’m having breakfast once again. Believe you me, breakfast is a very important meal in my life, because you never know the events that may unfold throughout the rest of the day. I am sharing my breakfast with Mr and Mrs Minah. They are sitting in the hanging basket of orchids just above my head by the pool, chirping happily here in the charming Burasari Hotel, where we are staying. From time to time, they hop onto the table for a few grains of rice or another sugar cube. I am eating boiled rice soup and pieces of roast pork, lashed with chillies, chopped spring onions and fresh coriander. It is hot, but I am feeling good.
A chance to chill out in Phuket – Pearl Island is in the background.
Believe it or not, I’m drinking tea.
These fish are so spanking fresh.
After breakfast, our hosts at the hotel, the managing director, a charming lady