Tuesday, March 25, 2014

WHO SHALL I BLAME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?

Chopped tomatoes. Chopped jalapeño chilies. Chopped pepperoncini. Garlic. Ginger. Minced mystery meat (no kidding; I have no idea what that was). Fatty pork. A habanero. Cup of Sriracha. Olive oil. Pepper.
A mashed anchovy, and two tablespoons of a spicy African chutney.
Stirfried till crusty. Cup of yoghurt stirred-in afterwards.
Glob more Sriracha to improve the flavour.


[The garlic was from a jar which contained, in this order: garlic, habanero, salt, vinegar, water, and lactic acid. That last presumably as a preservative. But note that according to Wikipedia, "although glucose is usually assumed to be the main energy source for living tissues, there are some indications that it is lactate, and not glucose, that is preferentially metabolized by neurons in the brain of several mammals species (the notable ones being mice, rats, and humans). According to the lactate-shuttling hypothesis, glial cells are responsible for transforming glucose into lactate, and for providing lactate to the neurons. Because of this local metabolic activity of glial cells, the extracellular fluid immediately surrounding neurons strongly differs in composition from the blood or cerebro-spinal fluid, being much richer with lactate, as it was found in microdialysis studies." End quote. In short, it's brain food.]


Several slices of toasted French bread as the starch.

Nimboo achar in lieu of any condiments.

The whole washed down with tea.




It was mighty tasty.

But what the hell was it?




I dumped it on a thali and ate it with my hands. So it must be Indian.

The hot-hot chai afterwards confirms the surmise.

Should've also had papad.

Pakwan, yaar.



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