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Branston pickle.

It feels weird - wrong, almost - to write my first post in a (hopefully) series on food about something so quintessentially British as Branston pickle. I don't think I'm being particularly snobby to say that British food leaves a lot to be desired. Admittedly, my palate is heavily slanted towards Asian cuisine, particularly hot and spicy dishes. And as I've tried to assess my feelings on this crazy island that is my adopted home, I continually return to a fixation on the (poor) quality of the food here. "Scotland's great," I say, "but I want to live somewhere cheaper, where I can learn another language, and where the food doesn't suck." And I say this often.

I was in Bath a few months ago, saying this exact thing to someone who I barely knew, in one of those vague "So how did you end up here and what are you doing next" conversations I always seem to get into. He seemed shocked that I didn't like British food; I was equally shocked by his claim that he really liked the food here. I was tempted to ask if he's ever tried any non-British food, so strong was my disbelief that anyone could defend such a bland, almost comically funny National cuisine.

As a vegetarian, my explorations into British food are really that of an observer. The Scottish specialties feel almost like novelties for the tourists - haggis, of course (though I used to enjoy the vegetarian version before I tired it); tatties and neeps (though I'm not sure what they are); malarterial insanity like deep fried pizzas (which are sadly disappointing). Black pudding is perhaps the most nauseating food I've ever seen; I imagine it as a loose sac of bloodclots and scabs, battered and deep-fried.

But after two years of living here (and my soul feels like it's been here far, far longer) I fear some elements of British food are starting to creep into my diet. Part of this comes from my supermarket curiosity. With my American upbringing, I've slowly come to appreciate some aspects of the British food-packaging experience - for example, macaroni and cheese in a can kills the dried powdered shit I grew up on. But I still refuse to eat pre-made, shrinkwrapped pancakes.

Branston pickle is something that feels as British to me as Marmite - and though I've enjoyed it on the countless Ploughman's cheese sandwiches I consumed over the years (generally purchased from train stations or news agents as the only vegetarian options for a non-egg eater like myself) - I only recently invested 94p in a jar for myself.

There is something strangely addictive about it. Maybe it's the texture - a gelatinous blob with small chunks of mystery vegetable, it is exactly what I imagine afterbirth to look like. But the taste is very sweet and very pickled at the same time. I love pickled vegetables - the brinier the better - but this is a different flavor. And it's perfect with cheese, as it says on the label. It's also perfect with pork and egg and a million things that I don't eat. I fear that my own use of it, primarily as a layer between a slice of cheese and toast, lacks imagination.

If only Sir Richard Branston had made his billions by peddling his family's sweet pickle recipe! There is a classic simplicity to the packaging - an honesty, maybe - in this age of ridiculous product names. (The British trend is to include the source of the ingredients in the name of the product, so we're no longer buying a cupcake, we're buying a Sheffield Cake with North Cumbria Lemon Icing. In a Hemel Hempstead Cup, probably). The Branston pickle is one of those brand names that becomes synonomous with the product itself - even if it was a knockoff generic brand, I think it would still be referred to colloquially as Branston pickle, much like "hoover" has become an improper noun in British English.

The jar, similar to the one pictured above, lasted about ten days. I've already moved on to my second jar, this one of the "Small Chunk" variety (for easier spreading!). I don't know if there's anything else uniquely British that I enjoy this much. I like the special English mustard, but I think I prefer yellow American salad mustard for it's pungent bite is closer to mayonaise than wasabi. The next step for me, I realise, is to learn to love Marmite. I only tried it once, and was repelled - and I have a tolerance for food that most people find disgusting. After this I can embrace my inner Britishness, I guess. In the meantime I should try spreading Branston pickle on top of a battered pizza and see if it helps to absorb the shock.

Food experiments

I love sambal oelek - at this point, it far outweighs even my love of sriracha - and have been stirring a spoonful into some thick, Greek yogurt... making a chili yogurt sauce that can be even spicier by adding chopped chili peppers (or green onions, if you're not feeling the heat). Last night i steamed some small new potatoes and spinach and slathered it in this yogurt sauce, making it into a strange mayo-free potato salad. Also the sauce works well on sandwiches, or as a dip for potato crisps.

As much as I enjoy fried halloumi from middle-Eastern sandwich shops, I only recently tried to make it myself. £2 buys a block from the Indian grocer, which is easily sliced and fried in minutes. How can anything this rich and delicious be legal? I wonder if I ate halloumi every day -- would I die? A few pieces, fried to perfection, works great in a wrap with the above-mentioned chili-yogurt sauce and maybe something green. I even threw in jalapeno-stuffed olives and it worked pretty well.

Seeing BentoBlog in the newspaper reminded me of how brilliant Japanese food can be - clean, quick, incredibly healthy and so aesthetically appealing as well! Of course, a vegetarian diet is a bit more challenging but it can be done - and it's something I want to investigate more. I have been getting into the habit of making some sushi rice when I get home from work, then sticking in the fridge to cool - and when I'm hungry a few hours later, stuffing some inari skins or making quick onigiri (stuffed with umeboshi). Maybe I should invest in some plastic bento boxes to go all-out when I pack lunch at work.

Thumbs up to Tesco

Living across from a Tesco, I've sampled many of their in-house products. Generally they range between "awful" and "slightly better than OK", but I'm going to give props to two in particular, both from their pricier "Finest" line: the whipped soft cheese with peppercorns, and the rocket and pesto salsa. Both are so good it's hard to believe they are the 'generic' product. (Although the true generic products disappeared from supermarket shelves long before I started shopping on my own - but that's a topic for another time).

3 days in Berlin

In the endless debates about the best falafel on earth, I can now clearly cast my vote for Café Meyman, in Freidrichshain, Berlin. I had a falafel and haloumi sandwich. I rank this among the five best meals I have ever eaten. This little imbiss makes their own flatbread right there when you order and slathers the whole deal with a special mango sauce. And all for only €2.50. Really, this was a revolutionary experience for me. I went twice. The second time wasn't as good as the first because apparently the woman who made it the second time doesn't do it quite as good as the guy who made it the first time, but the second time it was the second best falafel I've ever had. Maybe you purists will rail against me for classifiying a haloumi and falafel sandwich as falafel. My partner just rocked the haloumi, but I wanted the whole deal. I'm getting a food boner now just thinking about it.

Other highlights of Berlin: Dolores, a cal-Mex burrito place that is nothing special if found in an American city but for a burrito deprived expat like myself it's a treat. They even imported Anchor Steam for that true SF experience and it was pretty excellent too. I also enjoyed some vietnamese food, though not as much as I had hoped - the spring rolls were delish though. I'm trying to think if I had any memorable food that wasn't rolled in a cylindrical shape, but I can't remember.

Besides food, yeah, I could mention the other stuff we did, like the abandoned cold war spy station we explored and recorded in, but I don't want to come off like some sort of art-dude when really the trip was focused on eating, talking about food when not eating, and thinking about food while dreaming.

The next level of Asian grocery

I have written in these pages before about my experiences with Asian grocery in Glasgow. Originally I started with the Chinatown grocery next to Cowcaddens underground station, which was decent enough and had a few products I need, but lacked others and charged an insane £6.99 for a bag of vegetable dumplings.

Then I discovered the less accessible but superior Mathew's Foods on Garscube Road - this seemed like a revelation, for the selection was better, with more fresh produce. THEN came Chang's, or whatever the one near my work is called - the third grocery I have discovered, and the cheapest to date.

Today I visited SeeWoo, and I believe my travels are complete. This is by far the largest selection of Asian groceries I have encountered, not just in Glasgow, but anywhere.

And how picturesque of a situation - from the end of my street I can cycle along the canal, which curls parallel to Maryhill Road, past the Partick Thistle grounds, then over a little cobblestone bridge near which a few houseboats are docked. From there it's just a block to SeeWoo, with the whole trip only about fifteen minutes from my house via bike, barely on the actual roads at all.

T & I went a bit crazy there - spending £50 on such necessities and novelties as miso paste, jerk seasoning, toasted sesame seeds, vegetarian satay-style fake meat, Chinese vinegar, peanut-flavored dessert dumpings, spices, black sesame mochi, fake meat in a can, ramen ramen and more ramen, fried shallots, sambal oelek, tom yum paste, pickled black beans, tofu of varies types and styles, roasted coconut juice, ceramic noodle bowls, those little bamboo steamers, kim chi ... and there's a ton of stuff we put back in some sort of self-control.

The prices weren't as good as the place near my job - I will still go there for frozen dumplings/gyoza and produce - but the selection was incredible, and there was a big dragon and drumming for Chinese New Year right in the middle of our visit (though were in the back and didn't actually see it). The entire store (which is about twice the size of my local Tesco) was filled with white people looking at the products with confusionm and asking each other "What the hell do you do with this?". In short, it's heaven.

I discovered Matthew's.

I haven't posted on here in ages; that should be a testament to how busy I am. I don't know if anyone reads this anyway besides 2 or 3 people on occasion. Maybe some of you come across it on the aggregated teamforce blog. That's okay; I'm not complaining.

Anyway, I have been living in the darkness for as long as I've been living in Glasgow. I was under the impression that Chinatown grocery was the only asian supermarket around. Last week I had to go pick up a a package at the CityLink shipping depot which was in this weird industrial area off Garscube Road. I saw Matthew's asian wholesaler, which was unfortunately closed, but made a note to go back. Which I did this afternoon.

This blows away the other Chinese supermarket; the freezer section is enormous, it's much cleaner, and the prices are significantly lower. If I decide to alter my dietary lifestyle, I now know a place in town to get frozen pig uteri. They don't have vegetarian frozen dumplings besides those puffy ball kind I don't like, so I will still have to go to the old place to get my £6 bags of gyoza. But otherwise, this place is awesome. It's of course not as good as any of the Asian supermarkets in American cities I've lived in, but for Glasgow I'm very satisfied. (Still no yasai fume furikake though).

Mexican

And since I'm on the subject, let me complain about how there isn't any Mexican food here. Not to be all cry-baby, "This country doesn't have all the same stuff that my country has, waaaa waaa" but considering the popularity of late-night post-bar takeaway food, Mexican would make a lot of sense. On every block there are establishments that sell fried shit all night long, and also make shitty pizzas, bad "curries" (I use the word in quotes because that's what they call Indianesque food here) and kebabs, whatever they are. If they also made burritos and tacos, I think they would do good business. As far as alcohol-soaking food goes, Mexican is up there with the best. Instead you have a choice of fucking Black Pudding (which I think is mostly made up of blood, yes, deep-fried blood) or Battered Deep-Fried Pizzas (to be fair I only know of one place that sells these, and I actually tried one, and it was my first glimpse of what death will be like) but you can't get a taco. I know there aren't Mexican people for 6,000 miles but so the fuck what? I thought we lived in a global economy that broke down barriers and stuff.

Bhel puri

One of the problems with living in the UK is the lack of real Indian food. I mean, there are Indian places on every corner, and I can buy mataar paneer from the gas station. But British Indian food is very weird - there are all of these weird sauces that were probably invented in Manchester or something, and I don't know what any of them are. I mean, what the fuck is Dopiaza? Rogan Josh? It's like a whole new learning experience, this stuff - beginning all over in figuring out what this stuff actually is.

There is one South Indian restauraunt in Scotland - it just opened about a month ago, and I haven't been yet because dosas cost £9.95 which is just a little bit steep ($18?!?!) for something I'm used to paying between 50 cents and $6 for. I'm sure I will visit eventually, like maybe if I get a job one day. I also haven't found a good Indian grocery store yet - they all are combined Iranian/halal meat places, and it's just a little weird going to buy Indian groceries with a butcher shop built in. What is really driving me crazy is my inability to find Bhel Puri mix anywhere. I've tried six or seven different shops, but none of them carry it. One place had the pathetically inferior Pani Puri mix, but didn't know where I could get Bhel. Taco Bhel? I found a place online that sells it for £3.49 per box, plus shipping - so I could get 4 boxes for about US$30, which I may wind up doing out of desperation.

I'm also really craving those bottles of japanese rice seasoning - the Yasai Fume Furikake. The Chinatown grocery doesn't carry any Fumikake and I really miss it. I have also found places online to order that from, but I really hate having to order groceries over the Internet.

Oh yeah, I've decided to start posting here again. I think I was inspired by the Warmer Milks tour blog, oddly enough.

qdoba

I find the word "qdoba" immensely satisfying. I love the q, d, and b ; letters, which in the proper font, are symmetrical. I am thus disappointed at how this burrito chian uses a curvy, flowery font that downplays the similarities. A very straight, rigid sans-serif font would be much better, maybe even something basic like Helvetica. Also, their burritos aren't that good. The one by my house is far better than the one in Pittsburgh though. I just don't like how the tortilla always sticks to my teeth. The 3 Queso Dip is bullshit too. This post was inspired by the post on moog squirrel about the death of Veracruz/Madonnam/Polloy Rey. Whatever happened to Jonathan anyway? Maybe he moved to NYC and became Jonathan Safran Foer.