“No meat, sorry.” The woman says with an apologetic shrug, pointing at the chicken sitting in an old sticky rice basket in a corner of the kitchen. The bird that would have made a delicious addition to your lunch bobs its head nervously and takes a peck at one of its chicks.
“This, okay?” She holds up a hunk of cabbage with beak-sized pieces missing from the edges.
You turn around and see that the French group sitting at the other worn wooden table are all eating either cabbage fried rice or cabbage fried noodles. Feeling rather like the decision was made for you, you opt for chef’s special (cabbage) and take a seat, nudging a large puppy out of your way.
The little restaurant-cum-menagerie sits at the base of one of Vang Vieng’s…
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