October 2013

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A very Thai massage

Monday, October 7, 2013 in Chiang Mai, Thailand

I’ve moved on to Chiang Mai and am staying at the Rarinjinda Wellness Spa Resort where I’ve arranged to have a two-hour Thai massage this afternoon. This will be my third massage in Thailand. The first one, in Bangkok, was performed by a woman named Apple who, when we began, handed me a pair of disposable thongs and then stood there to make sure I put them on correctly. It was the best massage I’ve ever had in my life.

The second massage came from Moo (which means pig in Thai), a young man of small stature who, nonetheless, pounded me like an NFL linebacker. I was black and blue for two days. It was the worst massage I’ve ever had.

I have no idea what to expect this afternoon. Particularly since I’ve never had a two-hour massage before. What is there to work on for that long? I’m fearful to even imagine.

In a bookstore in Chiang Mai I came across a book titled Very Thai that I’d heard is not only entertaining but very informational. The author, Philip Cornwel-Smith (who is obviously not Thai), writes about pop culture in Thailand. Like “Why so many ladyboys?” and “What made society women’s hair so huge?” He also has an illuminating chapter on Thai massage from which I will just quote.

“Thailand has two massage cultures: clothed and unclothed. Don’t confuse the two. Enter a parlour signed nuad (massage) expecting nuad paen born (literally ‘ancient massage’) and you get, ahem, ‘young’ massage. This might involve ancient techniques, but more likely oil, towels, soap and a happy ending.”

“Though top-end spas uphold stringent etiquette, in less classy parlours the entrepreneurial urge may sometimes cross the professional line. As can happen worldwide, propositions get whispered in either direction, or hands may slip…Two American women complained to a Thai magazine of being felt up by health club masseurs, unaware that the four-star hotel is a discreet haunt of posh Thais seeking a tickle. Even some blind masseurs angling for a bigger tip have been known to press the wrong point accidentally-on-purpose. Though if rebuffed, their credible excuse smothers any offence.”

Having read this, I called down to the spa before my appointment and asked if, during my treatment, I’d be clothed or unclothed.

“No clothes,” said the cheerful girl on the other end. “But not worry. Masseuse is blind.”

Perhaps I’ll just profer the tip at the beginning of the treatment so we don’t have any “accidentally-on-purpose” misunderstandings.

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How to make a Flintlocke cocktail

Saturday, October 5, 2013 in cocktails

Yesterday I got an email from a reader, Mike McClure, telling me about a cocktail I’d never heard of called The Flintlocke. I asked Mike if I could post his letter (and attached recipe) and he said, “Please do! It would be great to see the Flintlocke make a comeback!” So here it is. The original recipe (as well as Mike’s adaptations) follows.

I really enjoyed your ‘I’ll Take Manhattan’ magazine article from several years back; and have shared it with many of my friends. (as well as the link to your web site: “My Father’s Thanksgiving Manhattan”)

If you ever wonder if your articles connect with your readers; I’d like to share with you the following.

I enjoyed the article for two reasons:

·        You really helped me improve my Manhattans. (i.e.: Orange bitters vs. Angostura; Rye vs. Bourbon; etc.) BTW, Like you, I’m  a big Maker’s Mark fan.  Recently though I’ve been able to find really great Ryes.  My favorite is George Dinkel’s Rye. (Total Wines price ~$22).

·        The second reason is the nostalgic tie to your father.  In our family, we have a similar story. 

For our family, the drink is called the Flintlocke.  Legend has it that back in the 1960′s; a bartender at the Colonial Inn in Concord Massachusetts entered and won a national drink contest sponsored by Laird’s (Maker of Apple Jack and Early Times bourbon).   His drink was the Flintlocke.  It’s similar to a Manhattan: (Bourbon, Apple Jack but also includes Crème de Cacao, lemon juice and Grenadine) Proportions have to be accurate or it will taste like bad cough syrup or worse.  For the next couple of decades, the Inn featured the drink.

In the late sixties, my father, while dining there, spotted a ‘table-tent’ card on the table featuring this drink.  He enjoyed the drink and brought home the card. 

Over the next few years, he perfected the mixing of the drink.  I remember when my parents were having cocktail parties, Dad would make up a batch and share the recipe with their friends. (Think Christopher Walken in the opening scene of “Blast from the Past”) At future get-togethers, the friends would all compare notes with him on their own mastery of the drink.

As my siblings and I reached the drinking age (I’m now 59), we carried on the tradition and have shared this with our friends and extended families.  In the mid-eighties, one friend made a trip back to the Colonial Inn; only to find the drink still being featured…with the same table-tent placard.

Sometime in the ’90s, the restaurant stopped featuring the drink.  In 2011, my wife and I made a trip  back to New England and the Inn.  In making our hotel & dinner reservation, I spoke to Dave the restaurant manager and asked if they still had the drink.  He said ‘Yes.’  I then shared with him this story of my dad and that table-tent card.  Dave asked if I still had that card; and he admitted that none of his current bartenders really knew how to master the drink and the old-time patrons have been complaining.  So I sent him a photocopy of the card as well as my notes/tips on how to make it (see attached).  While we were at the Inn, one of bartenders (John) made a pretty good one. (Of course, not as good as my dad’s.)

Like you, this has become our holiday seasonal drink of choice.  As the family gathers at Thanksgiving and Christmas, we always make up a batch of Flintlockes; and continue to share the recipe.

Our father passed away in December, 2000.  In his final days, the family gathered around his bed.  We had one more Flintlocke with him while eating his favorite Christmas cookies (Old fashion German Sand Tarts).  To this day, we sacrilegiously referred to it as “the body and blood of our Father”; Amen.

So, again, thank you for your article.  Glad to know other folks have similar traditions and memories of their parents.

–Mike McClure

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The Happy Room at the White Temple

Friday, October 4, 2013 in Chiang Rai, Thailand

The Swiss chalet-style Happy Room at the White Temple in Chiang Rai. Photo by David Lansing.

Standing in front of a magnificent golden structure on the grounds of the White Temple in Chiang Rai, puzzling over its purpose, I saw a Thai tourist guide, a rather comely young woman, nod towards the guilded structure and ask the middle-aged American businessman she was guiding, in a whisper, if he would like to go in the “Happy Room.”

Oh, my.

I’d heard of “happy endings” at Thai massage parlors (although, alas, I’d yet to experience one). Did the White Temple have a particular house of assignation, a place where for a few extra Bhat one gained not only merits towards Enlightment but also a quick and erotic personal Nirvana?

I told Ketsara what I’d overheard (the American had, indeed, decided to take advantage of the Happy Room and was in there with the guide right now doing only Buddha-knows-what!), raising my eyebrows in disapproval.

Ketsara giggled. “You know what is Happy Room?” she said.

I told her I could only imagine.

“Happy Room in Thailand is bathroom. That what we say—‘You want to use happy room?’”

My erotically-charged imaginings dampened, I asked Ketsara why the temple would choose to make their public restrooms so grandiose, pointing out that, to my mind, the structure looked like a gaudy Thai chalet built on the slopes of St. Moritz by a Thai drug lord.

“He say,”—he being the artist Chalermchai Kositpipat—“he say toilets are gold to remind us that beauty in mind of one looking but can be seen in all objects, even toilet.”

Whatever. Personally, I like my interpretation of a Happy Room better.

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Thailand’s greatest artist?

Thursday, October 3, 2013 in Chiang Rai, Thailand | 1 comment

 

Is Chalermchai Kositpipat Thailand’s greatest artist? He thinks so.

A little bit more about the White Temple (Wat Rong Khun) and the Thai artist, Chalermchai Kositpipat, who designed it: the guy is crazy.

This year he did an interview with a Thai publication called BK in which, while calling him “Arguably Thailand’s greatest artist of our time,” he proclaims on the one hand that he has stripped away his entire ego and is left with only mercy, followed by the revelation that “I’m fucking perfect. I’m good at art, management, PR and presentations. There is no defect in me.”

Oh, and he’s very humble.

Other revelations in this interview: “I always hit my targets faster than I plan to. I aimed to win the grand prize when I was in my fifth year of study—I got it in my fourth year. I planned to own my first house within five years—I got it in three. I planned to own a Mercedes in 10 years—I had it in seven. I planned to make B10 million in 15 years—I got it in 11.”

Obviously his true Buddha nature shines through.

Kositpipat claims that the purpose of the White Temple is to shine a light on Thai Buddhism and the greatness of Buddha. But let’s face it, the artist, who also created and produces a whacky Thai reality show called “Ton Silapa,” in which young artists compete in a sort of visual “American Idol” format to become Thailand’s “next great artist,”is just a huckster. But you know what? The Thai people may know Kositpipat is a huckster but they like him (and his White Temple) anyway. And that’s just fine.

What would Buddha think of the White Temple and its creator? Probably not much. Photo by David Lansing.

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Chiang Rai’s White Temple and the Gaudi of Thailand

Wednesday, October 2, 2013 in Chiang Rai, Thailand

The amusement park-like White Temple in Chiang Rai, Thailand. Photos by David Lansing.

Yesterday we’re at the Black House (Baan Dam) in Chiang Rai. Today we’re at the White Temple (Wat Rong Khun), which is just as bizarre. No, it’s more bizarre.

Here’s the story: In the late 90s, a controversial Thai artist, Chalermchai Kositpipat, went to the head monk of a down-on-its-heels temple in his hometown of Chiang Rai and said, “Let me redo the temple. I’ll pay for everything. The only thing is, some people won’t like it. But it will become famous, I promise you, and thousands of people will come here every year.”

So the old monk said, Why not?

True to his word, Kositpipat has turned the White Temple, or Wat Rong Khun, in to one of the most visited temples in Northern Thailand and, in so doing, is now known as The Gaudi of Thailand.

Frankly, I don’t see so much of Barcelona’s Sagrada Familia in the White Temple as I do a Salvadore Dali or even William Blake. The White Temple is a sculptural allegory. The stark whiteness stands for the purity of Buddhism, the blinding mirrored glass for Buddha’s enlightenment. A bridge over a river of pain separates hell (with thousands of clay hands trying to drag you down) from heaven (the temple itself).

Inside are murals that, in addition to showing traditional Buddhist images, show the great battle between good and evil as being fought by Superman, Batman, Bin Laden, McDonald’s, and even George Bush.

Did I say the temple was bizarre?

You either like this sort of thing or you don’t. Frankly, I didn’t. To me, it reduces the ancient knowledge of Buddhism into a comic book with Star Wars’ heroes fighting beside Buddha to save your soul. I don’t think it’s irreligious—just silly.

Hands from hell reach out to you as you cross the bridge to the White Temple. Photo by David Lansing.

 

Demons near the entrance depict the sinful addiction of alcohol to reaching the temple. Photo by David Lansing.

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