Bazaar Bizarre

I would like to thank both Winfernal and Wolfgang for their comments in the recent Figs post. Winfernal, apparently a meat eater, shares his excellent vegetarian recipe for spaghetti carbonara with us, and a skepticism about the unhealthiness of raw eggs, amongst other things, and is well worth the read. Wolfgang poses some challenging questions. These independent comments address related topics which I will discuss in this post.

As a child, I went where my parents went, and we were often in South Africa. Major cities, Jo'burg, Cape Town, Durban, had bazaars, colorful markets that were a cross between the modern swap meet and food hall and to my memory very large and sprawling, in devoted, permanent, locations. It was the sixties and the bazaars were under segregation, divided by race. I tread lightly with the terminology here, but there was the Indian Bazaar, and the African Bazaar, which I understand is now no longer operating. Both fantastically colorful and full of the bountiful produce that that fertile country provides, they were always a fun excursion for a wide-eyed child such as myself. At the Indian market it was quite something to see 40 kinds of curry powder arranged in conical heaps ranked by heat, the hottest being Mother-in-Law curry, and each brightly and differently colored according to its spice content. My father would always stock up before our return to Britain, as in those days it was difficult to find authentic Indian curry in England. But what I remember vividly, besides being expected to bargain for Zulu chachki, was the inevitability of a sheep's head at various meat stalls, eyes-in, buzzing with flies which the vendors would swat at and fan away. The smell of spice outweighed everything to my sensitive seven year old's nose, a reminder that spices were originally used to cover the taste and smell of rotting meat and vegetables, and sometimes to preserve them from further deterioration. Although I hear sheep's head is a delicacy I would probably not partake. There is little I will not try, but there are some I revisit rarely. I am, for instance, fussy about what is combined with eggs, and potatoes too, but I can't think of anything that I am truly disgusted by, except perhaps insects or larvae, which are eaten with relish in many parts of the world. I would not eat horse, or dog, or cat, though I have eaten lion biltong (jerky), defined after the instance, in Africa. I have eaten tripe, blood sausage, frog's legs and rattlesnake, and I relish fresh sautéed sweetbreads. Lamb's kidneys are a great favorite of mine. Farmed pheasant, the only kind available to us, is boring, hung for only a couple of days it cannot compete with its weeklong-hung counterparts in Europe, rich, delicious and gamey, and perfectly healthy. I will eat any vegetable or spice, though I don't care for hot peppers in any quantity as they then tend to destroy subtler and equally important flavors in any meal.

Above all, quality suppliers are supremely important, which, apart from the grocer or butcher, includes any restaurant you might eat at. I check labels and country of origin at market and I prefer to buy fresh local produce, seasonally current. I patriotically, stay clear of meat and fish from abroad if I can, though, unless you want to hock the family jewels, it is hard to find good lamb originating any place other than Australia or New Zealand. Government checks and balances are, to my mind, overly stringent in our country, particularly with regard to dairy. Do not think for a moment that a French Brie purchased at market is anything like what they are eating in Europe. You may as well have bought it in Europe and stone blasted it to conform to our government's standards. I remember being on a farm up-coast from Durban, South Africa, where I learned to milk a cow at the age of 8. We took the bucket back to the kitchen and tasted of the butterfat and it was truly wonderful. After home pasteurization it was still superior to what passes for milk in the the domestic market, though I'm sure if you own your own cow you can do the same here. One can get very sick if milk is not pasteurized at an early point, but does one really have to nuke it if it will be naturally processed into cheese?

In parts of the world where hygiene is almost absent, I have had to eat what has been set before me, so as not to offend my hosts (who have not necessarily been the providers of the food) and risked the bodily consequences usually for professional reasons. Cleanliness in the kitchen is Rule One which includes keeping vegetables and meats apart unless your preparation is swift. I was once obliged to taste the wine at a Mediterranean vineyard belonging to a family member of a friend and was served their latest white from a filthy glass in an equally filthy kitchen. I bit the bullet with the consolation that the wine had a high alcohol content (not a fail-safe antiseptic). Mostly I dine at friends' and a gracious host will not put you on the spot if you leave a portion of your serving, though they might gripe about it after you have left. It's unusual to be served something that isn't fairly "safe" at such events. If I can't eat something I quietly leave it and hope to be invited again.

As a postscript to the Big Eden post: I saw Ratatouille this weekend at El Capitan, which was magnificent, and I highly recommend it. Despite being somewhat anti modern Disney on account of their aggressive and invasive marketing, I bit the bullet. Daniel and Helena, 4 and 2 respectively, pictured above with uncle Matt and the theater backdropped, were completely spellbound at the immense imagination that unfolded on the silver screen. This was Helena's first time in front of the big screen. I do hope our nation's mothers and fathers will eventually let their children know that feral rats were responsible for the bubonic plague and are currently the source of hantavirus which is a killer here in the southwest. But, suspend belief once again, and see the film. It is absolutely terrific.