Back to LA on a Fuel of Bacon

I’ve been so busy here, working, meeting and sleeping that I haven’t had as much time to post about the amazing art I’m seeing as I had thought, or even a tiny portion of the food I’m eating.  So I guess that will have to wait for LA spacetime.  But one last bite before I ascend to the skies.

I’ve spent a lot of my time here photographing and documenting “different things”, things that are other and special to this place.  But there’s universality here, as in every place, and I find that in the international presence of the Danger Dog.  There is a global belief that bacon is good, and that wrapping bacon around things makes them better.  Any country with a Danger Dog is a country where I feel at home, can find place of understanding with the locals, where I immediately know that there is a societal belief that pleasure is good, and that language is about much more than words.

When I leave a place, I’m often obsessed with “last meal”.  What if this is the last time I ever visit, should despite my intentions, the currents of life take me far away, or should my life end before I return to see my friends again, what would I want my last food memory to be.  Sometimes it is a shared meal, but usually, in the age of the airplane, it is something eaten alone and while conducting some ordinary business, like getting to the airport on time, or waiting.  Last time I was in Thailand, I chose between a styrofoam and plastic container of durian and the Danger Dog on a stick, and I chose the Danger Dog, because, well, it’s something familiar, that’s different enough in each place for me to feel at home and away at the same time, which is the flavour of Danger Dog to me, home/away.  The beginning of the in between of the airplane.

Mmmm… Taste of danger.  This dog tasted of hot dog, without the “dry flavour” of Thai bacon and sausage.  Like a softer hot dog gift wrapped in a slightly salty layer of fat, with grease on the outside, and bursting moisture within.  The mustard here is thin, but slightly spicy, like a thin brown mustard, slight hint of German influence in Asia.  Price for joy? $2 on the street in Insadong.

See you in LA.