Breaking Fast

Last Friday I spent my evening doing something quite unexpected. I was invited to a Ramadan fast breaking feast. I am not Muslim and after my pancake breakfast, and chicken and rice lunch it would be ludicrous to even suggest that I fasted, but I was invited none the less. My neighbor Dina is Eritrean, but grew up in the U.A.E and now lives in New York so the food was an international blend of pasta dishes, mango chicken, hummus, salads, potatoes, breads etc. It was a real feast and the most interesting part is that she made almost everything herself and she made it all without tasting a thing. The rules of Ramadan dictate that for thirty days practitioners cannot eat or drink anything from dawn until sunset. Despite the handicap, the food was great and an abundant dessert followed. I feel so many of us know so little about the Muslim faith, but sitting in a room chatting with friends while eating tortellini is something we can all understand.

To learn more about Ramadan go to: http://islam.about.com/od/ramadan/tp/ramadan-hub.htm

Alcohol is off limits during Ramadan so we quenched our thirst with a drink made from hibiscus flowers soaked in water and sweetened with sugar.

Deep Fried Guinea Pig Debate

There is a scene that continues to enter my mind. It’s a picture of my childhood pet Millie, on her back, with each of her four little feet clenched into post mortem, post fry-o-later fists. Her skin is as crisp as a roasted duck and she lies peaceful in a bed of lettuce. Imagine this little vision popping into your head as you scramble for a seat on the subway or apply toothpaste to your brush at night and you understand what I’ve been going through. In ten days I’m going to Peru, I’m a food writer, and in Peru they eat the pig. The question is, do I eat the pig, too? I will not even attempt to answer this question right now. I just want someone to tell me what it tastes like.

A Chili Birthday

Friday September 12th I celebrated my twenty-eighth birthday in style by forcing my friends to join me at one of the most ridiculous restaurants in New York. I have to confess that I am a big fan of the forced fun. Give me an annual office Christmas party any day of the week, cause I love it baby.

About the size of a city bus and completely determined to fit as many people, I’m sure this restaurant has a name, but it’s best known as The Crazy Indian Place. The entire ceiling is covered with a 3” thick layer of chili pepper Christmas tree lights, about every fifteen minutes an Indian rendition of happy birthday throws the entire place into a deafening round of clapping, and it’s just fabulous.
The food is not award winning, but the joy; the joy is abundant. So what if you have to crawl over your neighbor’s lap to go to the bathroom, who cares, that in an effort to turn tables, your waiter will literally pry your fork from your hands. The lights are bright, it’s BYOB, and it’s everybody’s Birthday!

I Can't Believe It's Not Meat: Revealed

No, it is not some kind of beef jerky or weird hot dog. If you looked closely at that plastic yellow tip on the end, you might have gotten a better idea or you might not have, cause it didn’t help me much. This little rod of wonder is actually tamarind candy. Ok, problem solved check in on Friday for next week’s item. Alright, just kidding unless you live in a tropical climate like the Caribbean, you probably have no idea what tamarind is.To me it kinda looks like giant bean pods. The interior is ground into a pulp that’s used to make candy, flavor drinks and in Thailand it’s even used to clean brass. I actually really like the sour taste of tamarind, but this piece of candy seemed to be mixed with salt and chilies. Lots of flavors in the mouth, maybe a few too many.

Bodega Finds: I Can’t Believe It’s Not Meat

Coming out of the subway in my Brooklyn neighborhood is like stepping into a foreign country because most of the people living here recently emigrated from places like El Salvador, Mexico and Colombia. Which makes walking into my local corner store to pick up the odd quart of milk, feel less like an after work errand and more like a mini exchange student program. For one thing, there is so much produce. I mean in the average American 7/11 the closest your gonna get to fruit is Snapple lemonade. Here the selection runs from cactus meat to cilantro. But there are those odd things here and there that I can’t even identify and that’s where you come in; I will provide the pictures if you can provide the answers.

Below is a photo of this week’s find. Do you have any idea what this is? No, I’ll give you a hint: I found it on the counter next to the cash register. So what is it? I’ll let you know on Monday. Happy guessing.