Thursday, December 23, 2010

Simply my Second Entry

Another chilly morning albeit on a later train here is my try at my second blog.

I have made repeated references to my Stay in the UK in the previous blog and its connection to a path of self revelation of sorts.

I look back at those days fondly; it’s when I began to take key interest in observing people from different back grounds and from different parts of the world. Observing their attitude towards food, basically their food habits to put it simply.
About this time I was confronted with a simple but vital need to provide for my own meals, couldn’t just come home to 3 square meals (had to prepare them myself or have to depend on friends). I am not the greatest fan of pre-cooked so called heat n' eat foods so that was ruled out too. This situation I was in could not have come at a better time for me as about this time, my natural observant self had me particularly interested in observing people's food habits. Our diversity as a race has a lot to offer in terms of learning especially with food, how we go about preparing it and enjoying it with a special kind of fulfillment/satisfaction that we feel deep inside, which cannot be compared to many a act of self satisfaction.
This rich diversity of people and their food habits was what I was exposed to and which I observed and what I came to believe in, that it shows to some extent who we are.

Some of the most interesting people to meet indeed are Greeks. They are loud, they enjoy their drinks (do try the Tsikoudia: chi-ku-tee-ya more stronger version of Raki originating from Crete) and according to me love their Mediterranean food. Then there is the Baklava which they fiercely defend as their own creation as will the Turks and for that matter anyone inhabiting the Middle-East. The Baklava that I was treated to one cold evening somewhere in the Isles looked more like a small flat samosa (Indian stuffed usually savory prepaperation) each sealed with a single clove. It was every bit homemade, unlike the commercial preparations which we are accustomed to. Also not to mention it was every bit delicious, those of you who have had the Baklava n cud do with a little less sweet would have enjoyed this which I did. Also co-incidentally I had a small portion of it at a Turkish joint somewhere in north London that was much sweeter n richer. Somehow I could not get to like it as much. My curious observant self then went about finding out more about its origin. Did not have to go too far this girl who had got it with her spilt the beans so to say. I was correct it was made in a non-descript home in Athens with a lot of love am sure about that as the quantity and quality of it took some time and effort. The love of a doting father (learnt that it was made by her dad) perhaps the very human feeling of wanting to be happy. To want to spread it by means of the Baklava that made its journey from Athens to the Isles so special and so tasty.       

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