Tobaski Feast Day (Eid Al Adha): A cultural sharing

One of my Peace Corps friends emailed me a couple days ago. He reminded me that today is Tobaski. That’s what this Muslim holiday is called in The Gambia. Perhaps you’ve heard it called Eid Al Adha–or just Eid. This is the day when Muslims celebrate when God told Abraham not to sacrifice Ismail (Issac)but a sheep instead.

Today every married male is supposed to kill a sheep if he can afford one, if not , than a goat, and if not that –a chicken. The food is cooked to be shared. A portion is to be given to poor people, meaning those without. A portion is shared with friends and family who stop by for a visit and a portion is kept for the family who bought the sheep. Most is given away. When the sheep is killed there is a blessing said to Allah (God).

The build up to this day is enormous. People get new outfits made, clean house, buy a sheep–if they can afford one, and gather coins to give out to children. One reason why the holiday feels so joyous is because the harvest is done, people have money, the mosquitos have largely disappeared and it’s not so hot during the day. It’s hot. Just not so hot.

During my first Tobaski in The Gambia, I must have traveled somewhere because I don’t have any recollection of what I did– By my second Tobaski, I stayed in my village to join in with my best friend, Fatou’s family celebration. I had a Grand Buba made (a traditional women’s outfit that used so much fabric I had a pair of pants and a shirt made out of it later) and gathered coins. I let my friend talk me into visiting various families and accepting money. Since I was a single woman, I was still eligible to receive money.

Okay, you can bet I balked at this one. The idea of taking money from the people whose lives I was there to help seemed not right. But my friend talked me into it saying that people would feel good if I participated. They’d be thrilled. They were thrilled and I had a blast. On this particular day I felt like I belonged–and the sheep tasted great.

About the money, I think in the end it amounted to about $1.20. I tried to give it to my friend, but she wouldn’t take it, so later on I bought something for us to share. The photo is of women in their finest. This isn’t my village, but it sure looks like it could be. Those trees in the background look like they are mango trees. This is not the time of year when they are ripe, though.

This is America, please order in English

Since 2005, a Philadelphia based cheese-steak bistro owner has been defending a signpost in his shop that said: “This is America, please order in English.” Not surprisingly, he was taken to court on grounds of discrimination, equating it to derogatory signs like “Whites Only”. No ruling has been given yet.

I wrote a post earlier about how surprising I found it that people barely speak English in a big, cosmopolitan capital city like Madrid. It triggered a debate over whether it’s necessary for big cities (where English isn’t the first language) to have basic knowledge of English, or not.

I think it is relative. In non-English speaking metropolises, as long as the tourists put in some effort, lack of basic English may not be an important day-to-day communication hindrance, but it is definitely a disadvantage in the larger scope of things. For example: Madrid is bidding to host the 2016 Olympics — surely the knowledge of English would play an important role there. How is China tackling that issue for next year’s games? Anyway, I digress.

What do you do in an English-speaking country when your customers don’t speak English? Do you put up a sign like our friend did? Hmmm, I don’t think so — it’s quite an insult. The sign reminded me of when the English ruled India and the “No Indians or Dogs” sign was not uncommon. Couldn’t they just be offered picture menus where they could point out what they wanted? Or what about bilingual menus?

There is an online poll on the article asking whether people approve this sign post. At this moment, of the 115,732 people who voted, 92% of them approve. Call me overly sensitive but I’m kinda shocked to see the response.

What do you think? Are signs like that acceptable?

%Poll-7601%

Is that damn pizza done yet?

When I was researching New Zealand’s Hermitage hotel a few weeks back for Lonely Planet, I had no idea of the weird no-brain stuff happening behind its flash doors. Maybe it was the altitude and mountain air – the Hermitage is right beside Mt Cook, New Zealand’s highest peak – but a recent guest had a bit of culinary trouble in her room.

Hotel staff were called when an American guest in her mid 40s complained she couldn’t get her frozen ham and pineapple pizza out of the microwave. Turns out she’d jammed the doughy treat in the lockable room safe, hit a few random numbers she thought stood for 3 minutes on high, and waited for her meaty, cheesy snack to emerge.

Is the appropriate response laughter or sympathy in such a case?

Scary.

Thanks to feeb on Flickr for the pic of a pop tart retrieval process.

Big in Japan: Sake tasting notes

I really love sake (?????????, nihonshu).

If you think about it, variety is indeed the spice of the life, especially in the bar. In the modern era of microbrews, alcopops and flavored vodkas, we are all secretly becoming closet gourmands.

Of course, all of these self-aggrandizing styles can’t match the sheer variety of flavors and styles of the sweet, delicious nectar that is sake.

Think sake is just rice wine? Don’t believe me that no two bottles of sake are created equally? Allow me to educate you on the high culinary art that is sake.

Much like wine is divided into red, white and varying shades in between, sake runs the spectrum from sweet and rounded with fruity overtones to dry and crisp with a powerful bite.

Of course, true wine connoisseurs can distinguish the variety of grape, just as true sake connoisseurs understand the different brewing styles.

Although there are literally dozens of sake brewing methods, this basic list will help you get started:

Yamahai (???) One of the most traditional methods of brewing sake, the mash is allowed to sour, which gives the final product a more intense flavor.

For more tasting notes on the sweet, delicious nectar that is sake, click on and keep reading!

Sokujō (速醸) Referred to as modern sake, lactic acid is added to the mash to speed up the production time, and subsequently yields a crisp and clean drink.

Muroka (無濾過) ‘Unfiltered’ sake is spared the charcoal filtering process, which creates a slightly cloudy brew that is extremely bold and complex in flavor.

Doburoku (濁酒) This classic unfiltered style is reminiscent of traditional homemade sake, and can come in a variety of flavors depending on the individual brewing methods.

Nigorizake (濁り酒) One of the most unusual types of sake, this unfiltered sake contains a large amount of rice sediment, and must be shaken before it can be served. The texture of nigorizake is extremely smooth and creamy, while the flavor is surprisingly sweet and rounded.

Namazake (生酒) ‘Fresh sake,’ which may can be made by any of the processes described above, is not pasteurized and best served chilled.

Kuroshu (黒酒) Something of an acquired taste, this Chinese-style sake uses unpolished (brown rice) to create a rough and ready brew that quickly overpower the palette.

Taruzake (樽酒) Absolutely delicious but difficult to find, this premium sake is aged in cedar casks, which imparts a unique spiciness to the final product.

Koshu (古酒) Although sake is meant to be drank immediately, a few varieties can be aged, resulting in a honey-flavored brew that is as rich in taste as it is in price.

Now that you know lingo, don’t be afraid to experiment with whatever varieties of sake are available at your local liquor store or Japanese restaurant.

Truth be told, the best Japanese sakes are sadly rarely exported to North America, though every once in awhile it’s possible to find the real staff.

Happy drinking, or as they say here in Japan, kampai (かんぱ, cheers!)

Spanish ham, sweet Spanish ham

For those of you pork-eaters in the US who have never tried made-in-Spain Jamon (ham) Ibérico, now that you can avail of it in again locally, jump on the opportunity because you don’t know what you have been missing.

Although produced in the US since 2005, it’s import from Spain had been prohibited by the USDA because Spain’s slaughter houses did not adhere to it’s safety regulations, and presumably because of the pig-borne viral swine virus that was prominent in Europe years ago. Last week, the ban was lifted and now authentic Ibérico can be bought in the US at a cost of US$50-$100 a pound, depending on the type.

This ham is the Spanish delicacy I can’t get enough of. A general fan of sausages, cold ham and bacon, since I have been introduced to cured Spanish ham, it has happily replaced my desire for any other pork production. I will eat it anytime, anyhow, anywhere — sometimes even preferring it to dessert (*gasp*). I am a regular customer at Madrid’s Ham Museums where you can nip in for a cold beer and a plate of ham that fits your budget.
Jamon Ibérico is made from the Iberian pig that is bred in Southwestern Spain and Southeastern Portugal, for a period of 14-36 months. Good ham in general is also called “Jamon de Pata Negra” (ham of the pig with black feet), the most expensive is the acorn fed Jamon de Bellota that in Spain costs atleast US$720 for an entire leg.

Yes, extremely expensive, so most of the time I have to resort to a ham of lesser quality and appreciate its remote similarity to Jamon Ibérico, but now and again it is something I generously pay for.

I would say eating ham in Spain is like eating noodles in China, households rarely go without it. Also, eating and gifting high-quality ham is a sign of status in Spain; for Christmas (for example), it is not uncommon for the Spanish to gift each other legs of ham.

Knowing how to buy ham and then how to cut it is an art in itself that I am still clueless about, but am determined to understand at some point very soon.