Oh, I see! moments
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Cultural Traditions: A Muslim Thanksgiving

by Meredith Mullins on November 14, 2012

Senegalese boys washing horses in preparation for cultural traditions during Tabaski

Leading a horse to water
© Meredith Mullins

Are Ewe Ready for Senegal’s Tabaski?

The boys were washing their horse in the Atlantic Ocean, off the west coast of Africa. When it’s time for cleaning, go where the water is—a philosophy in so many countries where water is a treasure.

How could I resist wading out to join in? And, in so doing, I met a new group of Senegalese friends. Their smiles were genuine and they welcomed the opportunity for a cultural exchange.

The boys were hard at work getting their white horse a little whiter and brighter, because the festival of Tabaski was coming. They were also splashing around the refreshing water and soaking in warm sun just for fun. The villagers, all fishing people, constantly turn toward the sea for livelihood, lounging, and laughter.

Tabaski and Thanksgiving—More Alike Than You May Think

The excitement was tangible as the festival of Tabaski was near.

Senegalese girls dressed up for the cultural traditions of Tabaski

Pretty, but new dresses are coming for Tabaski
© Meredith Mullins

Tabaski is the Feast of Sacrifice or the Fête du Mouton (Feast of Sheep).

It is one of the most important Muslim holidays in Senegal, a day of sacrifice, forgiveness, food, and family—in remembrance of Abraham’s near sacrifice of his son.

It is similar to U.S. Thanksgiving, but, while Americans focus on turkeys, the Senegalese cultural tradition is centered on sheep.

The family must buy (or raise) a sheep, which is then slaughtered by the man of the house for the huge meal of the day that is shared by all the family. Everyone dresses up in new clothes, and children have permission to ask adult family and friends for a small gift of money.

The Festivities in Senegal

The markets are full of sheep as the festival draws near. More than 700,000 sheep are sold for this holiday. And prices sometimes skyrocket (as much as $900 for a prize ram), making the purchase of a sheep difficult for many families.

Sometimes, families save all year to be able to buy the Tabaski sheep. Many organizations donate sheep to poorer families since it is so important in the religion to sacrifice a sheep during this festival. And, Senegalese can try their luck with supermarket scratch off tickets for a chance to win a sheep.

Boys with a sheep preparing for the cultural tradion of Tabaski in Senegal

Caring for the Treasured Sheep
© Meredith Mullins

Sheep are so important that the most popular TV show in Senegal is the American-Idol style search for the most perfect sheep in Senegal (“Khar Bii”).

Often, the sheep stays with the family for the days before the festival, while the family sharpens knives just out of earshot, in anticipation of the slaughter. (The families respect the animal, so the slaughter is done as painlessly as possible.)

Welcoming a New Cultural Tradition

I had to leave Senegal before the festivities (and the sheep slaughter, thankfully), but I was there long enough to feel the depth of their cultural traditions and the warmth of their hospitality.

The Senegalese have an enviable confidence. They look at you straight from the soul, with pride and an unpretentious, unselfconscious “here I am.” And even though life is dusty and sparse, they live the word Teranga, which means welcome in Wolof.

Oh, I see . . . Teranga!

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An OIC Vegetable Moment

by Meredith Mullins on November 8, 2012

Endive for sale in a Normandy vegetable market gives the author an "Oh, I see" moment about the endive growing cycle

Endive for sale in a Normandy vegetable market
© Meredith Mullins

Endive Indeed

How could I have eaten endive for so many years and have no idea how it looks “in the wild” or how complex its growing process is?

How could I be so uncaring about a vegetable’s life cycle or take such a crunchy treat for granted?

It took the convergence of a Saturday morning market in Normandy and a stall dedicated solely to endives to lead me to an endive ephiphany. What is that I C?

The Bizarre Life of an Endive

I recognized the finished product easily enough, as it sat on the scale waiting to be weighed and bagged, looking like plump little rolled white cigars.

But what was that off to the side in the big red tub? It was something completely alien. The endive “bud,” perched on its root throne, looked so bizarre that I had to ask the friendly endive seller if this was normal . . . or some sort of weird mutant.

Tub of endive attached to its root, creating an "Oh, I see" moment about how the vegetable grows

Endive attached to its root
© Meredith Mullins

He looked at me as if were some sort of weird mutant—as if the crusty root stalk and the scraggly feeder tendrils, with a proud crown of cream-colored tightly packed leaves was something every schoolchild would recognize.

Endive is in the same botanical family as chicory and is sometimes called witloof (white leaf). After the initial plant is grown in an open field, the roots are “harvested.” They are taken to storage, somewhere completely dark, to allow the endive bud to sprout in second growth. The dark room keeps the leaves from turning green.

Endive attached to its long root, providing an "Oh, I see" moment on its growth process

An “alien” endive?
© Meredith Mullins

A History as Long as Its Root

The edible endive was born by accident. The story goes like this:

  • A Belgian farmer was storing chicory roots in his cellar so that he could dry and roast them for coffee.
  • He was called to war and, when he returned, he found that the roots had sprouted small, white leaves.
  • Curious . . . he ate one. It was tender and crunchy.

Immediately, visions of endive salad (with tangerines and caramelized walnuts) and baked endive with ham danced in his head. OK, probably not. He was probably just craving coffee.

But, eventually, the taste of the slightly bitter endive leaf caught on and the rest is culinary history.

My Endive Epiphany

I left the market in Normandy with a memorable Oh, I see moment: I will never take another vegetable for granted. When I really stop to think, the preparation of any vegetable takes a lot of time and care. The flavor should be savored.

And when I pay 50 cents for a tasty, crunchy endive, I’ll think to myself—a two-part growing cycle that took 150 days— “50 cents is a real bargain!”

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Food Carving Puts Creative Expression on Your Plate

by Meredith Mullins on November 1, 2012

Jack-o'-lantern faces, made by food carving

Pumpkins carved into jack-o’-lanterns for Halloween
© Thinkstock

It’s OK to Play with your Food

Doorsteps, stores, and fields bask in the glow of orange at the moment. It’s pumpkin time again. Good for pie making. And good for carving.

The art of creating scary jack-o’-lanterns for Halloween has been a longstanding tradition for food carving fans. But pumpkins are just the tip of the garden. Now I see creative expression in a whole genre of  food art, and it’s evolving at a rapid pace.

Have Your Art and Eat It, Too

O yes, I C a whole new world. We make art out of wood, stone, metal, animal hair, hide, cloth, paper, canvas, water, mud, snow, and more—just about every element you can think of. So why not food?

Watermelon in the shape of a rose, made by for carving

Watermelon carving
© Thinkstock

Fruit and vegetable carving has been an art in Asia since ancient times. Now we have chocolate sculptures, biscuit cities, life-size butter figures, bok choy fish, eggplant penguins, and linguini portraits gracing our art and culinary worlds.

Pumpkin with a fish bas-relief made by food carving

Pumpkin bas-relief
© Thinkstock

Food artworks are fleeting. A natural decomposition, of course, takes place. This transience makes the work all the more beautiful.

For example, like British artist Andy Goldsworthy’s magnificent environmental sculptures, which last only as long as gravity, wind, and rain permit—time changes everything.

The Imagination Ingredient

The variety of materials in the food art medium is limited only by the imagination. And, as you can see by the creative work of the Hungarian artist Tamás Balla in this video, the imagination has no limits.

 If the video does not display, watch it here.

While you watched, did you hear your parents saying, “Don’t play with your food”? Or, did you marvel at the the creative expression of an artist who works with food?

For me, in this tug of war, the artist won out, and my  Oh, I see moment was clear—search for the artist within and carve away.

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