I grew up loving raw fish and
dried squid while living in a landlocked, third world country. How? My dad made
it possible and my mama made it delicious. As a kid I learnt that food-wise
there were no boundaries, one could always find a way to eat exquisitely. As of today, I still live in South America (yet
not anymore in a landlocked country) where Asian products are smuggled through
the border with Peru; where (real) Worcestershire Sauce (we had what was
locally produced and labelled as “Salsa
Inglesa”, which personally wasn’t much different from the bottle next to it
on the supermarket shelves called “Salsa
China”) and Horseradish Sauce have entered the market only recently, and
Sriracha is only found occasionally in “ramen” shops (note: I use the quotations
because the “ramen” here is either a joke or an offense i.e., anything but close to
the traditional soulful stuff); however, this didn’t ever stop me from trying
out recipes that included these ingredients- one can always find creative
alternatives and solutions.
I recently visited a friend in
Vancouver and flushed with embarrassment as my friend saw me stuff my bags with bottles
and jars of: Sriracha sauce, pumpkin spice, old spice, vanilla extract and (oh
God) not to mention the mustard seeds. I felt so self-conscious- as if I was
caught in public with holes in my pantyhose or spinach in between my front
teeth; as if I was a school girl wearing
a dress that showed off my scabby knees.
But looking back, as I reflect upon
my “scarcity-based lifestyle” from a more mature and unemotional stance, I think
scarcity has brought the
oh-so-diverse culinary world to what it is today. Scarcity pushes us to be
creative, to stock up for the winter months, to improvise and make magic
happen- daring us to exercise our gray matter and teases our taste buds to
explore new, small, wonderful worlds that exist in-between the obvious four
walls of flavour.
Nigella Lawson is by far my
favourite writer in the food writing genre (I will refer to her quite oftenly
throughout this blog so you better get used to it starting now). Her
mellifluous way of wording and combining her outstandingly assorted vocabulary
blended with her wise but simplistic approach on eating and feeding your loved
ones, is such a joyful page-turner, but aside from all that I would call her…
the Queen of Pantries. She makes
stocking your fridge and cupboards (and obviously your pantry, if you are fortunate to have one) seem like something we all should do, as if it is proper of every
household (sort of in a Martha Stewart way but then not). Yet also, it in a
way, confirms my standpoint of the silver-lining of scarcity, see: the idea of
having a pantry starts with the scarcity mentality- that emergencies,
unexpected guests and improvised dinner events are a possibility that every home
cook should be prepared for, and this sole idea brings not only comfort and an
everyday ease in the cooking arena but a sense of confidence that you can whip up whatever menu you're visualizing.