Momo: My new favorite food

MOMO! How could I possibly forget that mouthwatering food of gods!? Just thinking about it makes my stomach growl and my lips smack in delight. Often times I have dreams of lying on a cloud surrounded by endless supply of momo. OK, ok, that's a little bit out there, but the point is:

I LOVE MOMOS.

Say whaaaaat? You don’t know what momo is? Apparently there is this land where they take pasta dough, roll it out thin, fill it with perfectly spiced meat or veggies, and then close it up like neat little packets. And then they steam it! And it comes out to be this amazing steaming hot, spicy and juicy concoction that is then dipped in equally wonderful sauces and eaten in one bite.

Here’s a little less amateurish description of this amazing and very popular Nepali snack. The dough for momos is quite simple and is made of water and flour, possibly with a tiny bit of salt, and sometimes a bit of yeast. It’s rolled out thin and cut into circles that are then filled with a variety of different fillings. Meat ones could be made from minced pork, chicken, goat, or buffalo, garlic, ginger and a bunch of other spices. Veggie version is usually made of potatoes or cabbage.

Anyways, to make momo shape, circles are closed into half-moon dumplings, or little round packages. Nepali people are very skilled at making the edge all nice and decorative. Very impressive. Momos are then steamed over a boiling pot of water or stock, and served with chili sauce.

When in Nepal, or a Nepali restaurant, absolutely and without hesitation order yourself a plate of momos. And Happy momoing!

My Bangladeshi cultural dilema

It takes a bit until you get used to the Dhaka’s busy streets scattered with random piles of waste being picked at by people, dogs and crow. It takes a bit to get used to the smells in the heat of the summer. Within such an environment, one can find it difficult to relax and enjoy the food.

The fact is that Bangladeshis believe that eating with the hand is a more natural, purer way to consume food. Metallic silverware taints the taste. I can buy the argument, even though I can't entirely ditch the fork and knife. I had my encounters with Ethiopian food in the U.S., but here I find myself in a big cultural dilemma. In Bangladesh, as a Muslim country, it is imperative to eat with the right hand, never the left, since the left hand is used when one goes to the restroom.

My issue? I have always been a lefty and growing up they had to put my left hand in cast in cast in order for me to learn writing with my right. When I eat here with my hands, I either make a complete mess by trying to use my right or I am violating all Bangladeshi rules of etiquette by using my left one.

My life revolves around food

This statement is just nothing more then a confession. No, I do not yet need to enroll in an Overeaters Anonymous group therapy. 

In the office, I am always invited to eat mangoes and other seasonal fruits. Lunch is always a big deal and it has to be discussed in great detail. If you are invited by somebody at a restaurant or their house, regardless of the huge plate of rice, vegetable and meat you consume, you are bound to disappoint with how little you have eaten. In the afternoon, you swap stories about what you had for lunch and have another snack of two. Later on, you discuss what's going to be for dinner.

It took me a bit to realize that in this country any meal that doesn't include rice is considered a ‘snack’ - even if it looks like a standard meal itself in other countries. Every social event involves food in one capacity or another. If you go to someone’s house, you will always be fed. Even if you don't, the thick mixture of milk, sugar and tea leaves that is called 'cha' gives you the calorie-equivalent of a meal by itself.

The obsession with food extends beyond social settings to office life. I have realized that asking if someone has eaten is also a sign of politeness, as is piling someone else’s plate with food. Work is regularly interrupted by various seasonal snacks to share: huge, sticky jackfruit to plunge fingers into, plates of fresh mango or pineapple. And those questions of ‘have you eaten?’ in the post-lunchtime continue, with more detailed discussions of exactly how many ‘items’ we have all taken on that particular day.

I have Bangladeshi friends posting awesome pictures of the food they had for dinner on their Facebook pages. New restaurants that are just opening up are discussed at length along with menus and buffet prices.

Social life, work life, weekend life. It's true: my Bangladeshi life revolves around food.

Ramadan, Opa-Bangladeshi style

This is my very first Ramadan spent in a Muslim country. Hard not to get excited. I did spend time alongside with some Muslim coworkers, but my "experience" has been limited to inquiring about customs and rituals. I have never lived the experience.

This time is different. The capital seems to get a different feel as Ramadan rolls around. First anomaly, Bangladeshi style? Big businesses create an artificial crisis and prices rise before the arrival of Ramadan every single year. Forget about being pious, this is the time to make money! In other parts of the Muslim world, prices drop on this occasion. Not in the Desh. Sugar, cooking oil, even vegetables prices are hitting all times high. Food adulteration is also reaching its peak during this season. I am also being told that incidents of criminal nature will increase, because the bad guys need to profiteer as well.

And there is the iftar! Oh, the iftar, the meal that breaks the fast. The prophet used to do it with a glass of water and two dates. But here this is taken to a different level. Let me just say that I never heard of a meal that consists of a pre-plated iftar (meal) followed by a full course buffet. Anywhere you turn these days it is about iftar. Ramadan in Bangladesh should be rephrased as the month of free-style eating. But, I will have to come back to the subject, because I will plenty of opportunities to be part of it.

Just a quick observation though:

A month dedicated to fasting and abstinence is being turned into a month of food festival here. To me, this goes against the very purpose of fasting, which  is to remind you of the sufferings of the poor and to practice self control  

Anyway, I guess is easier to observe from the outside, so this year I decide to give it a shot and try to observe the Holy month of Ramadan. Will see how it goes!

Fighting food adulteration, one cow at the time

You learn quickly in Dhaka that you can't really trust anybody when it comes to food. Everybody messes with it no matter how low or high they are on the chain. They mix inferior quality with the standard one, ripen fruit prematurely or prolong their shelf live by treating them with toxic chemicals. This is in my opinion the most serious curse this country is facing. It is self inflicted and man-made, but so far they have not been able to address.

Until now, very little has been done to address the issue. Last week though, we finally got the "Safe Food" law approved. The law imposes harsh punishments like jail time of seven years' imprisonment for the first time offence or double that for a repeat.

Now, allow me to be skeptical about the implementation of this law. After all,  the country is not particularly known for implementation of its own laws. I am still to see anybody being stopped by the police for a traffic incident and I have been here for 6 months already.

So, what am I left with until the law is strictly reinforced? Well, fighting food adulteration by going back to the basic (as in the source). Here is the cow (or should I say bull?) that will give me some peace of mind when it comes to the source of protein for the family.

Viewer discretion is strongly advised!!!

 

An Yankee island in Dhaka- The American club

As I have been writing, Dhaka is not the easiest place to live. There are all sorts of reasons to it, but bottom line with the lack of green spaces, Dhaka badly needs a refuge. And it’s called the American Club. 

There are all sorts of expat clubs. The Brits have one. And so do the Germans. The Nordics bundled themselves together and set aside differences between Danish, Finns and Swedes and formed a Nordic club. Canadians have one too, aye?

But for now, I’ll just stick with MY club, the American one. When we first arrived here, we thought we died and gone to heaven. I had never belonged to a private club before in my life. Rows upon rows of blooming flowers. Green grass in the otherwise brown and dry climate, stretching over a city of dust and rubble. Ladies in two piece swimming suites in country where they are fresh meat on the street if they do not cover themselves, even in the raging-hot summer temperatures.

The American Club: a place where an American can be an American. It has tennis courts, a gym, and a pool. And, more importantly, their menu includes hamburgers and fries, macaroni and cheese, a weekly barbecue, and seasonal pumpkin pie. Nachos, tacos, Cheetos and Doritos  It does not get more American then this. And don't forget the drinks, the alcohol! In a country where alcohol was not permitted, the club has Happy Hours. And that’s right – all prices are in dollars, so you know how much money you are spending.
For my fellow Americans, the Club is a refuge in times of deepest, darkest depression – and rightly so. It is the only place to feel normal – sort of (because the mosquitoes and bad air, sadly, did not park themselves outside the Club’s door). It is the only place to serve the kind of food that is so bad for you and your health, but tastes so yummy. You might not imagine they would be so hard to come by on the mean streets of Dhaka, but of course you would be wrong. 

Laying in the sun by the pool on a Saturday afternoon reading a book on my Kindle with a beer in the other hand, it suddenly made sense to me why mom's dishes tasted so good even when they were burned.

A hundred chickens on your head

I thought I had seen my share of crazy things in my live. That is until I saw a hundred live chickens on somebody's head in Bangladesh!

We see the chicken man on the road at least once a week in Dhaka. Last time, we did not have a camera with us, but my iphone can take some decent pictures, so I immediately used it. Next time I plan on following him to see what restaurant he is going to. I will at least know the chicken will be really fresh there.

Boss/Madam, Baksheesh!

There is nothing harder on your morale here in Bangladesh then the daily sight   of beggars on the streets. Most of them wait in traffic for their moment. Women with babies, small kids, elderly men and women come knocking on the car window during a lengthy traffic jam asking for money, usually by making a feeding gesture with their hands towards their mouth - universal sign for hunger. While there is no denying that these people are money poor, we have advised not to give money as it further encourages them to beg. Apparently there are orphan beggar kids who are forced to give their daily takings to their "pimp". Even babies get borrowed to support begging as it looks more dramatic and is more likely to make westerners feel compassion and guilt, thus increasing a chance of donation.

Beggars are found in the villages, in towns and cities. Mainly they gather on Friday near the mosques in the towns, bus stand, railway stations, in front of markets, and in the traffic signals. Most of the beggars are unable bodied. Some are blind or are missing an arm or a leg. At the bus stand, market place and in the traffic signals old beggars and beggar children stretch their hands for taka (money).

Bangladesh is a Muslim society and there are Islamic values that encourage the people to give alms to the beggars. “If a beggar comes to beg on horse back he should not be avoided.” The Muslims offer their food grains to the beggars at first before eating the new food of the new seasons. They offer money or rice to the beggars for the purpose of gaining good benefit of business. The Muslims also offer new fruits of new trees to the beggars. After the death of any relative the Muslims entertain beggars to get blessings from Allah.

 There is a 2005 study that estimated that at the time there were 700,000 beggars in the country. I would not be surprised to find out that the number has doubled in the last six years.

This creates many ethical problems. You want to help people who really need it but you don't want to perpetuate a system of oppression such as that run by the overlords. It is truly disheartening. We've been here three months now and it does not get any easier to deal with.

Dude, who poisoned my food?

Adulteration of food with toxic chemicals has reached an epic proportions in Bangladesh. It has been called the ‘silent killer’.

It is almost impossible to find a sector which is free of adulteration. From raw vegetable and fruits to milk and milk products to fish, meat and processed food–every food item is contaminated. Every day I read in the newspapers about a newer method of adulterating foods. Carbide, formalin, textile colours, artificial sweeteners, DDT, urea etc. are used rampantly.

Chemical agents like calcium carbide are randomly being used for ripening different kinds of fruits like banana, mango, papaya, tomato and pineapple and also to keep them fresh.

Most of the red chilli powder used in the market is adulterated - in most cases the spices are mixed with brick dust. Fine sawdust is also often mixed with cumin and other ground spices. Honey is also frequently adulterated, as sugar syrup is often mixed with honey to enhance the sweetness.

Pure butter oil and ghee are also very rare in the market as dishonest traders use a host of ingredients such as animal fat, palm oil, potato mash, and vegetable oil to produce fake butter oil. They even mix soap ingredients like steirian oil with ghee, to increase the proportions.

Condensed milk produced by Bangladeshi manufacturers contains little or no milk and is in fact condensed vegetable fat. Sweetmeat makers unaware of existence of food colouring use only
industrial dyes in their products. Dough makers put sulphuric acid in hot milk to make it thicken quickly.

The chemical fertiliser urea is used in the rice to make it whiter and formaldehyde (used to preserve dead-bodies) is used in fish, meats and fruits to keep them fresh-looking.

In the long run, these chemicals in food adversely affect vital organs such as the liver and kidney resulting in organ failure and/or cancer and thus, untimely loss of life.

Ironically, people are aware of the hazards of taking foods adulterated with toxic chemicals, but this knowledge is not translated into practice. They are still buying and consuming these adulterated foods because of several factors: absence or unavailability of non-adulterated food, appearance, costs, cultural factors, food habits etc.Occasionally, the authorities will be suddenly in an active mode, and conduct mobile courts to penalize sellers/producers for selling contaminated products/foods. Then, there will be a lull for a few days and after few weeks, business becomes as usual.

The strategy that I came up with is simple, yet far from being bulletproof:

If the flies do not like it, then I won't like it either. If I do not see anything being attracted by the "fresh" meat/fruit/vegetable, there is probably a reason for it.