or: Trying Unrecognisable Food

Quite often I don’t know what I’m eating.

This happens more in some countries than others. It sometimes also happens in my own kitchen though I know what the ingredients are on the way in. It’s how they transform themselves in pots and pans that can be a little disconcerting at times.

This is not about my underdeveloped cooking skills. Arguably they could be due to my tendency to experiment with the food of other countries and people than honing my own culinary skills. I have no problem with this. In fact, I think it’s great.

I would rather have the confidence and willingness to try food I don’t recognise than to be able to cook a brilliant three course meal. I’m not saying these are mutually exclusive things though that does appear to be the case for me. It also means I am able to eat my own cooking. On those occasions when I do it.

I am happy to try street food as long as I can see locals are also dining there and the food is well cooked. I am sensible in my experimentation. All because I’m adventurous with food choices doesn’t mean I take unnecessary risks.

I am fine with ordering by pointing to other diners’ dishes that look good (or even try speaking with them in a pigeon version of the local language or relying on the trusted international language of charades), ordering from pictures, plastic food models or even vending machines. I have also been known to point to a random dish on a menu that is likely to be in the section where I’d expect to see Mains or Desserts (depending what I feel like).

Sometimes I talk with the waitstaff for their recommendations and hear about vegetables and meats I’ve never heard before. This can be particularly entertaining when we don’t have a common language or even a common word. Lately though Google Translate has been taking some of the mystery away from these conversations.

In Madagascar I ate zebu which is like a kind of cow and barbecued goat, not a lot of vegetables since I was staying at a small seaside village with no crops; in Peru I ate guinea pig; in Mauritius I ate tangue (strangely enough, that is kind of like a guinea pig too and considered vermin); in Australia I’ve eaten kangaroo, crocodile and emu (as an aside, Australia is the only country where you can eat the animals on their Coat of Arms); in China I’ve tried various barbecued bugs; in Japan I’ve eaten, well, I’m still trying to figure out some of what I’ve eaten. I still maintain it is impossible to have a bad meal in Japan. I may not know what I’m eating yet it always tastes fantastic.

Some foods are an acquired taste which I can’t be bothered acquiring (I’m specifically thinking of Natto in Japan which is fermented soybeans and stinky tofu in Taiwan and parts of China. That dish is ridiculously well named and can easily be smelt a block or two from where it is being served).

There are other foods I just can’t be bothered with such as chicken feet. The first time I tried this was in Singapore with the bones removed. There is a lot of chewing for not a lot of taste. The second time was with the bones in Hong Kong. Again with the chewing and more effort to remove the bones. The sauce is good and to me, best eaten just with rice or vegetables. A lot less effort though probably not as good for your skin as what I think chicken feet are supposed to be.

I will try any dessert.

The only time I clearly remember one of my food experiments not going as well as what I’d expect was at a Vietnamese restaurant in Hong Kong.

Green Tea Creme Brûlée is not great.

I spat that one out.

 

* Thanks to Weird Al Yankovic for the title to this post.