Inca to India

The samosa was in the news.  Thanks to the demagogue of my adopted land visiting with the demagogue of the old country.

The visiting demagogue and his trophy wife apparently did not bother to touch the samosas that they were served. 

No, that was not the big controversy. 

The brouhaha was because it was a broccoli samosa, which led one commentator to snark that tRump is "a broccoli samosa in an aloo matar world."

Aloo is Hindi for potatoes, and matar is peas.  One big time chef grumbled on NPR: "Broccoli, as far as I know, is not a native vegetable to India. So if it were me, I would want to showcase the vegetables from India."

Ahem, has he forgotten that potatoes are not native to India?  Aloo is pukka firangi ;)

Peru is the geographic home for potatoes.

My paternal grandmother, who lived with us throughout most of my childhood--she died when I was in high school--referred to a bunch of different vegetables as "English vegetables" for a good reason: they were not native to the geography and culture, and they were foreign.  Almost always, anything foreign became "English" thanks to the Bastard Raj.

A family lore is that when her brother went to Bombay many, many decades ago, he stayed with one of the extended family members.  A special, very special, vegetable was served at lunch for him--green beans.  Yes, one of those "English vegetables" that was rare back in the village. 

We now routinely use potatoes.  Almost every single day, anywhere on this planet.  Many of my people stay away from potatoes because of the carbs and the worry over diabetes.

Extending my grandmother's framework, this combination of potatoes with other ingredients is not even English, but is international, if we go by the geographic origins:

Potato: Peru
Chili: South America
Cilantro: Mediterranean

The humble samosa that has potatoes and red chilies and cilantro is not really Indian, is it? ;)

Immigrants gave England their favorite foods. Yet, Brexit?

Way back, a long time ago, when Tony Blair was Britain's Prime Minister, his foreign secretary, Robin Cook, made a comment that was heard around the world.  Cook noted that the chicken tikka masala had become Britain's favorite food that qualified it as the national dish.  He added that it epitomized Britain's involvement with the world and how it adapts to global influences.

The colonial origins of the chicken tikka masala aside, it indeed is remarkable that Britain has been bowled over by curry.  It is a global story to which even the insular Japan is no exception.

The chicken tikka masala displaced fish-and-chips as the national dish.  Was fish and chips truly a "national" dish?

Chips are from potatoes.  Ahem, potatoes did not get to the island, which is becoming increasingly irrelevant, until very recently, well after the white man's not-so-friendly first visits to South America.

So, the chicken tikka masala is recent.  Chips are only a tad older in the English cuisine (yes, an oxymoron!)  How about the fried fish itself?

It turns out that even the fried fish is not particularly English!

Whaaaaat?  Don't tell me that the Pope is not Catholic! ;)

Apparently this fried fish concoction is from the Sephardic cuisine that Jews brought with them after they were expelled from the Iberian peninsula.

As religious violence worsened, many fled Portugal and resettled in England, bringing with them culinary treasures founded in Sephardic cuisine—including fish.
Peshkado frito (in Andalusian dialect, pescaíto frito) was one of them. The dish of white fish, typically cod or haddock, fried in a thin coat of flour, was a favorite particularly among Sephardic Jews, who fried it on Friday nights to prepare for the Sabbath, as the Mosaic laws prohibited cooking. Allegedly, the batter preserved the fish so it could be eaten cold, and without sacrificing too much flavor, the following day.

What a fascinating and complex story about a relatively simple food!

Once it was introduced, well, the rest was history.

It was a hit. Fish prepared “in the Jewish manner” was sold on the streets of London on any given day. And at the end of the week, eating fish on Friday was a part of religious observance for Jews and Catholics alike—as “fish fasting” to avoid consuming warm-blooded animals has been a part of the Catholic tradition for centuries.* Though both groups were religious minorities at the time, fried fish became a popular secular dish, too.

Here's another interesting twist to this globalization story: The writer who provides us the fish-and-chips story is Simon Majumdar.  That last name is a dead give away about the Bengali origin.  Wikipedia offers the details:

Majumdar was brought up in Rotherham near Sheffield, South Yorkshire, England^[3] by his Welsh mother and Indian father, a middle child out of four children.^[4] His father Pratip "Pat" Majumdar was born in Kolkata

Even the guy who explains the globalization story of fish-and-chips literally owes his life to globalization!  Oh, he is now an American citizen!

If only the narrow-minded, racist, xenophobic people around the world paused to think and appreciate it all!

From papa to aaloo. Locro for me.

"After we spend time at the market, we will have lunch in Otavalo before we go to Peguche" the tour guide, Ivan, outlined the plan. "You can have some of the typical Ecuadorian food."

After having grown up in a strictly vegetarian home, and even though by now I have spent more years in the US than in India, I continue to be mostly a vegetarian, with a few inroads into the animal world as food.  And, when I travel, am all the more ready to stick to the vegetarian food because my nose and tongue can't quite feel comfortable even with the familiar chicken meat that is cooked very differently from how I am used to in the US.

So, there was really only one Ecuadorian food I was keen on: locro.

There are many variations of locro, of which the one I was after was locro con queso and with avocado.  A basic potato soup with fresh cheese and avocado.

The previous day, Mario had talked to me about this soup. Actually, the conversation began with his question "there is something from Ecuador that is used a lot even in India. Do you know what I am referring to?"

I had no idea what Mario had in mind.

"Potatoes!  Potatoes are from here" Mario proclaimed.

"Not true. Potatoes are from Peru" I replied. "But, Andean, we might agree."

"Peru claims potato came from there, but we believe it is from Ecuador" was Mario's comeback.  And then he went on to describe locro as a basic food item anywhere in Ecuador.  A national dish, of sorts.

So, there was no doubt in my mind that it was locro that I was going to have for lunch.  And not that other Ecuadorian claim to fame--guinea pig.  Yes, guinea pig meat was an item in the restaurant menu.  In fact, it was even available at casual stalls all over.

I ordered the locro and a fruit juice, while Ivan and Oscar had the day's special. The only other tourist, the Chinese-Canadian, decided to try out a regional pork specialty.

While we waited for the food, the Canadian asked Ivan and Oscar, "a lot of South American women win Miss World and Miss Universe contests.  Do you also think that the most beautiful women are from the countries here?"

Oscar, who was not texting at the table, hedged--his mother is Colombian.  Ivan, as a typical tourist guide, was not too keen on providing responses that could be unfavorable to the customer.  I am a useless bloke at these topics because I think pretty girls are everywhere!  The topic died out.

Meanwhile, in the background, a local musician was playing an acoustic guitar and a pan-flute (not at the same time.)  But, he was playing to the audience--tourists--and spent some time on his version of Simon and Garfunkel's Bridge over Troubled Water.  I wished he played local melodies instead.

When the food came, I looked at Ivan and whined like a five-year old, "where is my avocado?"   Ivan translated that to the waitress and in a couple of minutes came a plate with beautifully sliced avaocado.

I added the hot sauce that every Ecuadorian restaurant has and had my first ever locro.  It was delicious.  The fruit juice was delicioso. The Canadian was having a great time with the pork and beer.  And Oscar and Ivan went after their meals with vigor.  Good times were had!

A few days after this, on my way to the airport at 4:30 in the morning, the cab driver asked me about Ecuador.

Buena vistas I replied.

"Guinea pig?" he asked.

I said no.

"But ... " and ...

I searched in my head for the few Spanish words that I know ... "Locro mucho gusto"

The cab driver gave me a wide smile.