The bursting Imam impact

A classmate in my PR class once asked me what is it like in Greece. I always took pride in answering this particular question with praising our great civilization, the warm climate, the amazing beaches along the coastline and the breathtaking scenery of the countryside. However, the girl wanted to know more and she asked me: "Do you have any McDonalds over there?"

I found the question so ridiculous that I mastered all the sarcasm I could fit in one simple reply.

"Oh yes my dear, we do. It is perfectly safe to visit Greece!"  

Aubergines Imam Baildi (photo retrieved from www.argiro.com.gr)

After putting myself in the poor girl's shoes, I realized that maybe she was not worth all that cynicism. I started wondering what my behavior would be if I was visiting a foreign country. I started imagining the case of visiting Turkey and coming across a dish called Imam Baildi. I look it up in the dictionnairy and I realize that the name stands for The Bursting Imam! The first thought that would emerge would probably be that if this dish caused a royalty's insides to burst, what would it do to my humble stomach? Judging by the name only, the chances of ordering it are minimal. On the other hand, the chances of searching for the closest pizza place would be considerably high. However, if I am bold enough to try such a dish, I would be surprised to realize that Imam Baildi is nothing more than an ordinary eggplant stuffed with earthy vegetables in tomato sauce. Legend has it that an Imam was so content with eating this particular dish that he could not take it any more, hence the bursting. Aubergine, vegetables and tomato sauce is a very common combination of ingredients in the Mediterranean Basin, so eating Imam Baildi would not be much different than eating Ratatouille for example, a popular dish in French cuisine. 

Thanks to my job as a park researcher, I had the chance to visit a considerable number and variety of recreational sites in America, from the humblest camping site to the vastly crowded Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. With research emphasis on visitor services, I was able to observe tourist behavior, considering food choices, as well as how site managers cater for visitors. The pattern was almost unanimous, as restaurants were serving the same food in every location, regardless of the place, the local tradition and the micro-environment. Burgers, hot dogs and pizza were the most popular choices of tourists. 

Mount Rushmore National Memorial

All my observations lead to more questions. Why do restauraneurs in tourist places maintain such unanimity considering their menus? Is it for being cost effective or because tourists ask for it? If tourists actually search for the same types of food in every place they visit, is it because they are affraid to try local cuisine?

The fear of food poisoning or other health issues is always a deciding factor in consuming unknown food. From an anatomic standpoint, the stomach is one of the toughest muscles in the human body, but at the same time one of the most sensitive. Just consider how irritant a stomach ache can be to understand why avoiding unfamiliar food seems like a safe plan while visiting a foreign land. Thus, fear plays an important role in choosing alimentation. A weird sounding name, a bizarre looking shape and the erratic image it creates in the brain, or a fowl taste can discourage people from trying unfamiliar food.

How unfortunate can that be, as the most delicious little secrets in every culture are hidden in bizzare foods! 

Black ivory coffee, for example, is considered the most expensive and exquisite brand of coffee, with a market value of more than 1,000 USD. Although it sounds like an exotic luxury item, would you dare to take a sip knowing that its beans are harvested out of elephant feces? Alternatively, the idea of swallowing the tequila worm might sound appetizing in the wooziness of consuming the whole tequila bottle, but would you eat it in perfect sobriety?  Locals in Mexico City and the surrounding areas though consider escamoles, the little white agave-dueling worms, a succulent delicacy, dating back to the Aztecs. Those bold ones who have tried it are pleasantly surprised by its buttery taste and its crumbly texture. And the list goes on with cases of peculiar food that tastes extraordinary.  

Despina and Panagiotis on their vaccation in Crete

It is said that one way to understand a foreign culture is to taste its cuisine. The optimal way to achieve this is to follow a local guide. My good friends Despina and Panagiotis, who recently visited me in Crete, stated "no one can unveil the delectable secrets of a culture's gastronomy better than a local"! And it is true. Without the proper intelligence even considering to try bizzare, but delicious foods might not be an option. If there is a dish that does not please the eye, but is worth tasting, only an erudite culture insider can point you to the right direction. Afterall, my experience has taught me that the most delicious secrets are well hidden in the oddest looking courses. Thus, no matter how secure you feel about that pizza slice, just keep in mind that the Imam only bursted out of satisfaction for a proudly served gem of his culture! 

Kazania

Kazan. The Turkish word for cauldron or boiler. Interesting how almost 400 years of Ottoman dominance over the Greek land has influenced language, gastronomy or traditions.

Every fall in the grape producing areas of Greece, after the big period of grape harvesting and the end of wine making, a new process begins. Pomace, which is the solid remain of grapes after the juice is pressed out, can always be reused to distil more alcohol. In Crete, the residual grapes are reworked into producing raki, the most famous Cretan liquor, in a process locally called Kazania. Raki has a strong clean taste and it is the perfect treat for guests and friends.

The process of raki production sounds like a trip on a roller coaster, where biology meets chemistry. First, there is the halt to the caves, in the form of plastic barrels. The rich in sugars pomace stays there for 40 days to ferment. 

Then it goes into a still sitting on fire. The fire is forcible enough to vaporize the liquid, but not that strong to burn the grapes and contaminate the final product with a smoky odor. As chemistry teachers told us in school, alcohol is more volatile than water, thus fire is producing alcohol vapors quickly and forces them into an horizontal pipe, the cap arm pipe. Then the  real fun begins! After the cap arm pipe, vapors meet the worm box and start a crazy spiral way down a coiled pipe and through a bath of cold water. The cold shock turns vapor into liquid again, only this time it is 100 percent alcohol. 

Pure alcohol is good for starting a fire or rub your chest in case of a cold, but drinking it might not be a good idea. Thus, at the exit alcohol has a friendly encounter with water, which turns the alcohol volume of the final product into 18 to 19 percent. 

This is what science teaches, but the process sounds much more interesting when my father is explaining it. My father is a great story teller, only he has four or five stories that he thinks are worth-telling, so he shares them with every guest we have at the house. The repetition of the same stories about his army adventures or the wild days of his youth always tires me, however there is one story that I never get bored to hear. This is the story about Kazania or the days of raki production. This story sounds so fascinating that I always wish I could be there with him. Only this year I did join him in the festivities.

If in big units alcohol production is just another normal day, in Crete this is anything but an ordinary situation. As in every other occasion, this is a time to celebrate. Through the eyes of a non-Greek, this might sound crazy.  However, there is a good syllogism behind it. Raki production leads to raki tasting, which in turn leads to raki consumption. Alcohol requires food, so while producing raki there is a lot of cooking and eating. As a matter of fact, the raki producer is responsible for catering the feast table, although the guests always bring some food to share. Food sharing bonds the participants and raki enhances their feelings. But instead of starting a fist fight, Greeks choose to dance! Hence the myth that Greeks dance in every occasion, whether it is joy or sadness, a bright or a rainy day. 

In this year's Kazania food sharing was prominent and came in the form of meat, nuts, bread, pies, grapes and potatoes roasted in the fire of the still. There I understood the value of simplicity, when the offerings of the guests came in the form of hearty pork chops instead of tiny chocolate bonbons wrapped in humongous fancy ribbons, commonly offered in "proper" occasions. In one such feast I tasted the most delicious cheese pie from a local ladies and a delightful roast potato right out of the boiler fire. Simple, clean tastes that pleased the palate and the soul.

And then singing begins in the form of mantinades, the famous Cretan songs in rhyming couplets. People recalled the big feasts of older times near the river. The steam of the boiler always gives the first mantinada, followed by a series of of rhythmic verses in the form of a dialogue. I drink a shot of raki, I sing the first verse and I pour you a shot. You drink it and you give me a mantinada back in response, all along the sound of Cretan lyre. That is the way. And the feast goes on...