Local Story

Thailand - Pork Broth & Chicken with Rice

06/2014

It was my first day in Thailand. I had arrived the night before. I was to spend two months there before I moved on to Canada. The first month was to study Muay Thai and the second was for exploration. In this second month, my girlfriend at the time would come and be with me. I had landed at Phuket airport, and after an arduous checkout procedure had finally gotten into a taxi. He helped me find a hotel, reasonably priced in a local part of town. I can't remember how I spent the first night. I think I may have gone to a bar to pick up a few beers and then maybe drank them in my room. That first day, the first place I went to eat was a local place. As soon as I arrived I was stared at. There were only Thai's there. I was in a very local part of town, and I was glad of it. Here, they served pork broth with crispy chicken on rice.

Here are the closest resembling recipes to that dish:

This day was particularly significant and memorable, not only for the food but because of what ensued. That day I went down to the docks on the back of a motorbike. I paid the guy after he dropped me off. There, I bought a bottle of rum. I got drunk at the pier. Sitting down overlooking the ocean. Later, as I was tipsy I decided to get up and walk. I saw an unknown path and decided to walk down out of curiosity. It leads to another dock. There at that dock, I saw a ship. I looked to the right and there was a table full of Thai men drinking and chatting. I assumed they were sailors. The Thai sailors ushered me over. So I came over. I sat down at their table and we began drinking together. We chatted even though we couldn't speak each other's language. They offered me a drink and cigarettes and I got drunk with them. Somehow, after a few minutes of talking, I managed to convey to them that I played the guitar. They then took me to their ship, where they grabbed a guitar. It was hideously out of tune but in my drunken state, I managed to make something out of it. After some playing, the main guy, who I assume was the ship's captain or second in command, said it was time to leave. So I did. I said goodbye. I got on the back of a motorcycle which they organised for me and I left.

Kurdistan/Iraq - Tashreeb

03/2011

In March 2011, just as the Arab spring began, I moved to Kurdistan of Iraq. After 15 years apart I finally reunited with my father and decided to go with him to live in Kurdistan. I was dropped off at my Grandmothers who I'd never met before and started my new life in the Middle East. Not long after being introduced to my family was I helped by them to acquire work. One of these jobs was a restaurant where I lived and worked with around 100 Iraqi boys and men. I was working 14 hours a day for $20 a day, 7 days a week just like the rest of them.

What these boys went through during the Iraq war was horrendous. At one point I remember a friend at the time Ahmad told me about the suicide bombing he had witness and the killings and watching their families die. He stood next to me and said as he pointed to our colleagues. "You see all these guys here, they have all experienced the same thing as me."

"All of them?" I asked.

"Yes all of them."

One particular moment that has become memorable to me is when to of my colleagues ushered me over at lunchtime to share a bowl of food with them. I sat next to them and enjoyed what looked like a bowl of tomato and lamb stew with bits of ripped nan bread the boys had thrown in. I asked about the dish and they told me it was called Tashreeb. This quickly became one of my favourite Iraqi dishes.

This is recipe is a close resemblance to what I consumed that day:

I wonder about those boys that I had met at Today restaurant in Erbil, Kurdistan of Iraq. My friends that I had made. All of them came from what later became ISIS-held territory in Iraq not long after I left. Places like Mosul especially. Are they still alive? I'll likely never know. I think I have shed my tears for them regardless. God bless them all. Maybe one day we'll see each other again.



Greece - Rabbit Stefado

05/2008

At 17 years old I left my hometown and my country to live in Greece. I left an empty life of crime, drugs, vengeance and violence. I landed on the Island of Santorini in Greece, thanks to my mother, who assisted my journey. For years I wanted to live in Greece, ever since my mother took us on holiday there. I used to fantasise about it daily in the shower, spending hours under the water until my mother shouted at me to get out.

One birthday, perhaps my 16th I was given a Greek cookbook which I still have to this day. Whenever we'd visit Greece I'd get the same thing over and over again. Rabbit Stefado. This was hands down my favourite dish.

Here's a recipe for that classic dish:

From the age of 14, I wanted to run away abroad and escape my hometown. I was sick of the gangs and the violence. I had even planned to rob a bank so I could have the cash to get out of there. I used to carry a knife around with me at that age as a deterrent against an attack. By 17 I was already involved in a life of organised crime, or at least on the periphery close to diving in. At one point I saw a photo of my younger self and cried asking what happened to that boy. I was also in love with a girl that didn't love me back. So I then decided to finally leave. I had nothing left to stay for.

The reason I had chose Santorini was because a year before I had visited to attend a family friends wedding. Because of this, I got to know that stretch of road that held the bars and tavernas that we frequented. This gave me enough confidence to start my new life there. So the next year in 2008, at 17 years old, I had saved £300 and left to begin a new chapter in my life. That story is filled with all kinds of colourful characters that I had befriended and associated myself with. Serbian thugs, Albanian gangsters, a Romanian ex-hitman, a Nigerian Mafia don, an ex coke dealing American Jew, a Greek-American philosopher, a Macedonian female lover, a Greek-English deep thinking alcoholic nutcase with a heart of gold and a British-American on the run with a DUI. I was awakened to many things on that journey. Many things I could and would like to express but that's a story for another day.