From the wise old age of nine, my dad was on the go.  To see what life was like beyond a one-bedroom house of 12, he cruised the West Side streets of Chicago on his bike, running bets hidden in produce deliveries to blue-haired ladies, for a bookie-fronting-as-neighborhood-grocer.  Later, he took his first job that promised “just a little” travel, and over the years found himself in Japan, Kuwait, Brazil, Italy, Taiwan, South Africa, Denmark, Israel, Indonesia and more than a few other places.  He didn’t just conduct business in a corporate office and leave.  He slept in tree houses, accepted invitations into family homes, made friends and learned the culture.  And with the culture, came the food.

There were snake guts, big game meats, live shrimp, dead shrimp, poisonous puffers, and in my opinion, way too many things that could have killed him.  My dad brought these stories home to our kitchen table, but thankfully, not too many of the recipes.  Any good meal needs a good story, though, so here I’ll share my dad’s (and my) favorites of both.