Sorta. It’s ground buffalo. Apparently you get to call that beef. I’m not really asking questions, though, because this was pretty exciting. Ground meat opens up many routes for non-veg meals. So far that's been spotty.
I know what you’re asking: why did I just now, two months into this trip, discover that there’s ground beef at SPAR, the great Dutch grocery store I’d been to many times? Ground meat isn’t the most popular item in the store, and they don’t stock heaps of it like they do in the States. If it sells out, it sells out. Even major products run out sometimes, too, and at all stores, not just SPAR. SPAR, for example, had no skim milk, forcing me to go to Spencer’s. Last week, Spencer’s was out of skim, as well as Nutella. Both are currently out of Diet Pepsi, even in small bottles (bastards). The supply of honey at both, as well as the Big Bazaar, was spotty, with an inconsistent array of brands and sizes.
This isn’t because any of these products are esoteric here. Honey and Nutella are quite common. Skim milk isn’t the most popular, but it seems to get pretty wide consumption. Nobody drinks Diet Pepsi, but that’s just because no one stocks it. That one’s a poor example. If Pepsi and Coke would JUST GIVE IT A CHANCE.... anyway. They’re out of stock simply because it doesn’t make sense to keep huge quantities of perishable items on hand, nor does it make sense to have constant, flexible shipping to account for uncontrollable spikes in demand. In India, what makes sense is just dealing with the fact that you might have to wait for Nutella, or buy a small jar of honey, or go with regular milk.
Compare this to the US. There it’s virtually unheard of for a grocery store to be out of anything approaching a staple. It’d be weird to be sold out any particular cut of beef, or any particular size of Nutella, much less the whole shebang. I remember once when the Hyde Park Co-op had no bread, but that was because it was going bankrupt and hadn’t paid the bread supplier, sparking the comment "What is this, Russia?" from one of my friends. I think a lot of this is due to our more efficient supply chains–US suppliers can ensure a constant supply of any food, and can deliver extra when demand unexpectedly spikes. This is sort of a waste of money, but thanks to Wal-Mart we do it as efficiently as possible. The main thing, though, is that we’re willing to pay for it. With meat and produce in India, Indians just learn to deal with the fact that supply isn't as consistent, and that it changing that would result in a lot of spoiled meat and produce. In the US, we have meat coming in daily, and when the seasons prohibit a particular vegetable from being available, we just import it. What do you do if you need avocados for your Labor Day party in September? Import them from Chile! What do you do if you need raspberries in March? Import them from Guatemala!
I’m not saying the Indian system is better–far from it. This is one of those American luxuries that’s worth the cost, as opposed to daily lattes or the Chevy Suburban. I’ll adjust, no doubt, but begrudgingly. I can deal with honey shortages and avocado blackouts. It’s only when you cut off my protein and diet pop that you’re playing with fire.
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Got up at 5:30 this morning to go with Sanju and the wardens of the orphanage to Akshaya Patra’s headquarters to tour their kitchen. They cook for about 15,000 kids a day in Bangalore, and across the country their kitchens cook school lunches for over a million.
First we had to go through a security checkpoint, which we also had to do when parking at the mall, and when entering the theater to see Endhiran. They always have you pop the trunk. We may be annoyed at the US becoming a security state, but it pales in comparison to India. We arrived and met a very well dressed, barefoot, Hare Krishna, who explained their whole process to us. We took off our shoes and put on their temporary sandals and hair nets. Then we walked in.
This place was huge, and really efficient. Huge, huge vats of rice, beans, and vegetables, all arranged well. There was rice goop everywhere, as the vats lightly boiled over, but the place was very clean, clearly a priority. They don’t chop anything by hand–all of the produce is sliced by machine, even the coconuts, it appeared. They had automatic pestles to grind the spices, too. All a far cry from the backwards kitchen at the orphanage.
We have huge industrial kitchens in the States, also cooking lunches for thousands of kids. And those kitchens have the same goals–cook as much food as cheaply as possible. But we cut corners in all the wrong ways. We cheapen the food by cooking it at some factory in another state, freezing it, and shipping it in. We also cheapen it by using chemicals and additives to increase the shelf-life, and by leaving it devoid of spice and flavor. One of Sanju’s friends said that it would be just unheard of to leave out the spices from these dishes. I bet at one point Italians would’ve thought it unheard of to make pizza without oregano, or lasagna without ricotta. Didn’t stop us from doing it.
First we had to go through a security checkpoint, which we also had to do when parking at the mall, and when entering the theater to see Endhiran. They always have you pop the trunk. We may be annoyed at the US becoming a security state, but it pales in comparison to India. We arrived and met a very well dressed, barefoot, Hare Krishna, who explained their whole process to us. We took off our shoes and put on their temporary sandals and hair nets. Then we walked in.
This place was huge, and really efficient. Huge, huge vats of rice, beans, and vegetables, all arranged well. There was rice goop everywhere, as the vats lightly boiled over, but the place was very clean, clearly a priority. They don’t chop anything by hand–all of the produce is sliced by machine, even the coconuts, it appeared. They had automatic pestles to grind the spices, too. All a far cry from the backwards kitchen at the orphanage.
We have huge industrial kitchens in the States, also cooking lunches for thousands of kids. And those kitchens have the same goals–cook as much food as cheaply as possible. But we cut corners in all the wrong ways. We cheapen the food by cooking it at some factory in another state, freezing it, and shipping it in. We also cheapen it by using chemicals and additives to increase the shelf-life, and by leaving it devoid of spice and flavor. One of Sanju’s friends said that it would be just unheard of to leave out the spices from these dishes. I bet at one point Italians would’ve thought it unheard of to make pizza without oregano, or lasagna without ricotta. Didn’t stop us from doing it.
Friday, October 22, 2010
“Do You Hate Your Own Ass?”
Still no Delhi Belly, but I’ve had my first take-out Indian food, and it was pretty spicy. We spent all day Friday bouncing between various offices, having tons of meetings and signing things, and wound up ordering lunch while at the office of the lawyers. Sanju spent some time figuring out what would be both clean and acceptable to a foreigner, and decided on this dish of steamed rice patties, a bunch of green chili goo, and what was basically a doughnut that, instead of being sweet, was just flavored Indian style. There was also soup. This was an idli plate.
After Sanju explained to me that you take a bit of rice patty, spread some chili goo on it, and dip it all in the soup, literally everyone in the break room stopped and fell silent to watch me take the first bite. Which was spicy, but well within tolerance, so I disappointed anyone hoping for steam to come out of my ears (my ears if we’re lucky...). My experience downing blazin’ wings at Buffalo Wild Wings seems to have paid off, as I eventually eat the whole thing, including all of the chili goo. I fared a lot better than the guy in Outsourced who ate “the pepper stuff.” By the end, Sanju said my face was getting pretty red. But cmon. When your skin starts out so white, of course you’ll notice any redness. All of the brown people around me have a natural camouflage. No fair.
After Sanju explained to me that you take a bit of rice patty, spread some chili goo on it, and dip it all in the soup, literally everyone in the break room stopped and fell silent to watch me take the first bite. Which was spicy, but well within tolerance, so I disappointed anyone hoping for steam to come out of my ears (my ears if we’re lucky...). My experience downing blazin’ wings at Buffalo Wild Wings seems to have paid off, as I eventually eat the whole thing, including all of the chili goo. I fared a lot better than the guy in Outsourced who ate “the pepper stuff.” By the end, Sanju said my face was getting pretty red. But cmon. When your skin starts out so white, of course you’ll notice any redness. All of the brown people around me have a natural camouflage. No fair.
That Indian Head Bobble Thing
Sanju and I arrived back at her place at about 2:30am. Her roommate was out for the night, and Sanju had to get up at 5:00 to drive a Nepalese orphan to a train station. Lord knows how a Nepalese kid found his way to Bangalore, but the point is that when the maid came at 6:00, I was tasked with letting her in. You can imagine the look on the face of this maid when, instead of Sanju opening the door, it’s some White guy who speaks no Kanada. She at one point asked me some question, I think relating to the fan, but when I responded in English, all I got was the head bobble.
This maid lives in a shack next to the apartment complex, and by appearances, does pretty much everyone’s cooking and cleaning daily. Here, she sweeps and hand-mops, does laundry, and cooks basic Indian food. In the states, the idea of a cleaning lady has become a little more acceptable as of late, I guess, although I still think it’s pretty ridiculous. Personal chefs are more or less unheard of. But here all of this stuff is ubiquitous.
The result, though, is that there’s healthy, home-cooked food around here. I pulled that off, but it was never complicated food. Very rarely would I have anything baked lying around, and my pasta never had interesting pesto sauce in it. If I threw in some garlic powder, that was getting fancy. I do wonder how much we might benefit if cooking became a specialty like any other job. Right now we’re all culinary Marxists, refusing to eat alienated food except occasionally at restaurants. Maybe the Indians have this figured out–food is too important to do poorly, and few people have the time and talent to do it well. Let those few be the only ones doing it. Of course, India is helped on this front by the throngs of the impoverished, without whom this wouldn’t work. Maybe America just needs more dirt poor chefs.
This maid lives in a shack next to the apartment complex, and by appearances, does pretty much everyone’s cooking and cleaning daily. Here, she sweeps and hand-mops, does laundry, and cooks basic Indian food. In the states, the idea of a cleaning lady has become a little more acceptable as of late, I guess, although I still think it’s pretty ridiculous. Personal chefs are more or less unheard of. But here all of this stuff is ubiquitous.
The result, though, is that there’s healthy, home-cooked food around here. I pulled that off, but it was never complicated food. Very rarely would I have anything baked lying around, and my pasta never had interesting pesto sauce in it. If I threw in some garlic powder, that was getting fancy. I do wonder how much we might benefit if cooking became a specialty like any other job. Right now we’re all culinary Marxists, refusing to eat alienated food except occasionally at restaurants. Maybe the Indians have this figured out–food is too important to do poorly, and few people have the time and talent to do it well. Let those few be the only ones doing it. Of course, India is helped on this front by the throngs of the impoverished, without whom this wouldn’t work. Maybe America just needs more dirt poor chefs.
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