In Thailand, on the other hand, it is ubiquitous.

A couple of years ago, when I visited Bangkok, I found the local fare to be out of this world. Whether in a nice restaurant or a hole-in-the-wall café, the food was beyond anything my taste buds had ever encountered. The American version paled in comparison.

As I traveled north to Laos and the small city of Luang Prabang, I found the food every bit as good - if not better.

This, I thought, was amazing because there is little refrigeration in much of Southeast Asia. All the food has to be brought to the table within a few days of harvest.

In Luang Prabang, farmers bring crops and pigs and chickens to market in long, narrow

boats on the Mekong River.

Elsewhere in Southeast Asia it comes on scooters, bicycles and in big baskets on long poles balanced across the shoulders of tiny women.

There are millions upon millions of people in Southeast Asia and they are all eating fresh food. How do they do it?

Meanwhile, Americans are munching on industrialized substances that are frozen and shipped hundreds, if not thousands, of miles and then prepared in microwaves.

More recently, on a trip to Turkey, I had no expectation of what food I would eat. I know of not one Turkish restaurant in Utah. I figured on shish kebabs.

What I found upon landing in Istanbul blew my mind - or should I say, tongue? The food was absolutely incredible. Tomatoes, like you pick in your backyard, were served at breakfast, lunch and dinner. The melons were simply wonderful. And freshly-baked bread accompanied every meal.

And the kebab gave me the same feeling I got while eating fish salad at a café on stilts overlooking the Mekong River. It was so good that it seemed to release endorphins. Who needed beer?

Of course, the Asians and Turks are like alchemists when it comes to spices. They've been mixing spices we haven't even heard of for centuries.

But the underlying ingredient is freshness. It's hard to louse up fresh food that comes from a small farm or garden. I've never been what you'd call a "foodie," chasing down exotic dishes at hip restaurants. On the other hand, it's a thrill to know that in Hanoi or Fethiya when you sidle into an eatery - whether in a back alley in Vietnam or the Mediterranean waterfront in Turkey - you're going to set your chops into flavor-filled food at very reasonable prices.

That, alone, is worth the airfare.

The contrast upon returning home is stark. Americans' idea of food has been dumbed down to the extent that we line up for fast food laden with fat and calories but with little taste. And a trip to the local grocer can be downright depressing - the food looks good, but some diabolical force has stolen the flavor.

When it comes to food, American farmers seem to have traded taste for other qualities, like shipping ability. Take out-of-season tomatoes - please.

There are bright spots, of course. There is the farmers market, where for two or three months a year - in Utah - you can get fruits and vegetables that taste like fruits and vegetables. There's that Thai or Indian restaurant, when you need an emergency food break. And there are those occasional sweet dreams of coconut fish and sticky rice on the banks of the Mekong.

Christopher Smart can be contacted at csmart@sltrib. com or 801-257-8795. Send comments about this story to livingeditor@sltrib.com.

Khua maak kheua gap moo (fried eggplant with pork)

8 ounces pork loin

3 large green onions

1 slender Asian eggplant

2 to 3 garlic cloves

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon sugar

2 1/2 tablespoons oil, divided

2 tablespoons oyster sauce*

Cut pork loin into thin strips 2 inches long. Cut green onions into 1/2 inch lengths. Cut eggplant into 1inch lengths; then cut them in half lengthwise. Crush garlic.

In a wok over mediumhigh heat, warm 2 tablespoons of oil. Stirfry eggplant until softened and golden. Place on a dish and set aside.

Add remaining 1/2 tablespoon of oil to wok. Place garlic in wok and when it barely turns golden add pork. Stirfry until cooked.

Add salt and sugar. Stir and add oyster sauce and onion. Add cooked eggplant and stir until onions soften. Serve with rice. (In Laos, it is served with sticky rice.)

* Oyster sauce can be found in Asian markets.

Source: From Three Elephants Café, Luang Prabang, Laos