Cooking Lesson

On Thursday, I took the day off to attend a cooking lesson. At 7.30, I was picked up by Duran Duran. Together, we drove to the old town to pick up an American couple who also participated in the cooking class.

After that, we went to the market in Popa. It is about a 5-minute drive from my temporary home. When we arrived there, we met Maria, Duran's wife. Together, we walked through the market. First, she asked us about the menus we had chosen. The American couple, who had an Indian background, decided on the chicken curry. Well, I guess the stereotype was fulfilled.

I wanted to try something local, and even though I'm not really a fan of fish, I chose stockfish with vegetables, patacones, and coconut rice. It can't get more Colombian than that.

First, we looked for my fish. I would love to describe to you how it smelled in the meat and fish market, but I'm afraid it would make half of you nauseous. Anyway, now I know what a crime scene smells like. Besides the extremely strong smells, the images were not much better. There were all kinds of innards of a cow, as well as sheep and chicken. As we headed towards the fish section, a man came towards me pushing a regular shopping cart. But when I saw what was in the cart, I lost my appetite. The whole cart was full of bloody and smelly cow heads. And in the small compartment where children usually sit, there was a basket with something inside, something black. I couldn't look away, even though it disgusted me. When Duran Duran came to me and said, 'Did you see the cow eyes,' I almost gagged. I think if I didn't love meat so much, that would have been the moment I became a vegetarian. The American woman came to me and said she wouldn't eat anything meat-related from this market. I assume she also had a brief encounter with the shopping cart. Duran, who clearly found our delicate dispositions amusing, just said, 'Now you have the Colombian experience.'

When Maria headed towards a fish stall, I was somewhat relieved. Well, when I buy fish in Switzerland, I go to an air-conditioned supermarket. Then I go to the fish corner and choose one of the fish lying on ice and looking happy. Well, back to the roots. So we went to this 'stand' where one fish was stacked on top of another. There was a rather shabby woman standing there at what felt like 45°C, asking us what kind of fish we wanted. Maria picked one for herself and lifted it in the air by the tail and asked me, 'Nathi, is this good for you?' Well, I wouldn't necessarily say 'good,' but something made me nod at her. Yeeeeeeeeah, I could smell the salmonella as she held the fish under my nose.

The American woman said she wanted to buy her meat from the supermarket and not here. Maria accepted the request, visibly hurt.

Then we went towards the fruit market. The chaos continued, but the strange, smelly, and foul odor disappeared. And as the scent disappeared, the hunger returned. When we arrived at the fruit section, I saw fruits that I had never seen before. I got to taste the variety of fruits, and most of them were really delicious. The best part was when I got to eat a passion fruit the size of an apple. :)

After we had all the ingredients from the vegetable and fruit market, we went on to buy a frozen chicken for the Americans. By the way, they paid twice as much as I did and got a frozen chicken. Karma is a bitch, just when you are a bitch ;). We drove to their place with the car and cooked together.

First, we gutted the fish, filled it with vegetables, and brushed it with lime and cilantro. Then we had to grate a coconut for the coconut rice. Actually, not a difficult task, if only the graters for the coconut were actually made for that purpose. Duran told me that he used a tougher aluminum, then made various holes in it with a nail and hammer, and glued a piece of wood on top. You can imagine how well this grater worked. In what felt like 4 hours later (now I know why the cooking class lasted 6 hours), the whole coconut was grated and ready to be processed. Then we prepared the salad, and I saw for the first time how patacones were made.

After the frozen chicken was combined with soggy noodles and some slimy milk stuff, and flavored with curry powder from a bag, I was really glad to have the slimy fish.

Together with the coconut rice and the patacones, my fish was perfect. The food was delicious.

While in Switzerland, a cooking class takes place in a culinary school with sterile and disinfected cooking utensils, where the ingredients are purchased in a refrigerated supermarket, and a multi-course meal is prepared according to a recipe. On Thursday, I got to smell everything I would have preferred to avoid at a stinky fish and meat market. I got to taste fruits that I had never seen before, haggle with the market vendors, and negotiate over 50 cents. I got to cook in a Colombian home, in their own kitchen, and create a menu based on intuition.

There's no doubt which of the two stories I will eventually tell my children.