My favorite? The Lay's Hokkaido Grilled Crab. These don't play in Peoria.

One of the more inexplicable implements in Taiwan is the ubiquitous plastic dessert fork. Chopsticks are not a difficult set of tools to master, but eating a piece of cake with this fork is a talent few have yet to conquer. No matter which bakery you purchase a cake from, you are given a question-mark birthday candle, some small paper plates, and several of these tiny forks joined in a row. You bend them back and forth to snap one off, and you have it: this tiny, clear plastic fork not much longer than a toothpick, with only two tines about three millemeters apart. You take this short tool, slice off a bit of cake with it and, knuckles covered with frosting, you attempt to coax the cake onto the tines. Mouth open in anticipation, you crouch forward, and shakily try to guide the balanced bite to your waiting orifice. Of course it falls. You close your mouth in minor defeat, look down again at the fallen morsel on your plate and try again, as do all your celebratory compatriots around the table, chatting, drinking tea or coffee, and attempting to eat their piece of cake, following the same frustrating procedure. But no one gets up and goes to the cupboard to get normal-sized plastic forks. You never will. You will forever and always eat cake with these useless forks, because, well, that's the Taiwanese way.

Hello All - back in Taipei after seven days in Indonesia, on the island of Bali. So very green, tropical, and magical. Most of the magic of the place was in Ubud, a lively, busy town in the lower central part of the island. So many very kind, smiling people, holding their hands together prayer-like in greeting, saying "hello!" in a song, and flashing their perfectly white teeth. You walk carefully down the street, avoiding stepping on the tiny offerings set out - small squares of banana leaf with a tiny bit of rice, a flower, a cookie - all so beautifully arranged. Women walk by with tall offerings of fruit on their heads, on the way to the temple, traffic halts for a gathering ceremony, dogs walk lazily across the street, chickens run out underfoot - Bali has its own pace. Even the green, green flora, the dark lichen that covers stone statues with animated faces, the rains that come unbidden, suddenly and loudly, all add to the magical feel of the place.

I have hundreds of photos, which I've narrowed down to about thirty - click here to enjoy them.