I traveled to so many places when I worked on cruise ships. At nearly every place, I stopped and checked out the local wet markets.
In the Philippines I saw fresh sausage links hanging from a hook, mango, jackfruit, guanabana, small red onions, fish flapping around, and butchers ready to slice and dice pork — or living chickens — to spec. I saw rats from time to time — I think it’s reasonable to expect that in an open market.
I become absorbed with the smells, how I imagine some things to taste, and frenetic energy of people moving around and vendors advertising their produce.
You can tell a lot about a people by their markets. Home cooks with a discerning eye peeling over each piece of fruit; noticing the smallest detail. It matters.
The home cook purchases their ingredients. Ventures home. While walking or taking a local bus they imagine a future where people are seated around a humble table. They are smiling. What they are eating tastes like a memory — something safe, comfortable, and full of love.
Food is what we live for — a hope built on a memory full of safety, comfort, and love.
HT to Mueed for such an inspiring conversation about Pakistini food today.
