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Devouring each other
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If you want to understand the Turkish debate culture, tune in to Show TV’s cooking competition "Yemekteyiz," or, the literal translation "We are eating." Take a glass of wine and enjoy the making of a bitter dish, when ignorance, atop a stubborn st(r)eak and a pinch of pretense added, is left to simmer in waiting for a big sum of money.
The poisonous dish...er, TV show... is realized through the participation of five strangers, self-proclaimed gourmets, who are trying to impress each other with their culinary skills. The winner will get YTL 10,000.
The program is modeled after an international format which has been shown in the United States, France, Germany, Britain, Hungary and Denmark. But one wonders whether the national temperament added something to the international style.
Ah, but one food leads to another, and our group of five, presently three women and two men, not only taste each other’s food, but test their beliefs and lives.
Storm in a soup bowl
Take the episode in which Birgül, a housewife in her mid-50s, has to host the other four "gourmets." True to form, she opted for a typically Turkish meal of Ezo Gelin Soup, paçanga börek, veal, vegetables and "chicken rice and chick puree," the rice is shaped like a chicken and the potato puree is shaped like chicks, all laid out on a gaudy, glittery table that reminded you the shop window of French bargain-shop Tati at Christmas.
It was during the meal that Birgül learned that three of the participants do not eat pastırma, a highly seasoned, air-dried cured beef which is the main ingredient of paçanga, two guests hated veal, another two hate soup and a fourth does not eat vegetables. A hostess’ nightmare, only rivaled by one of my distant memories of a Western hostess offering eel soup to the wife of an Justice and Development Party, or AKP, minister.
"Why did you join this gourmet program if you do not eat anything at all," asked one of the competitors, the one who does not eat vegetables, to the two ladies at the table after they passed on the soup and merely touched the veal. One also did not eat the tomatoes, saying they were badly washed.
The sweet smell of pastırma
"I have never tasted pastırma in my life," said a guy whose suit was a cross between an unsuccessful Blues singer and the cliche of small Mafiosi. "Let me do it now," he added with good-humor as he tasted it, to note that it was neither as smelly nor as spicy as he thought it would be.
"You do not eat pastırma but go for Mexican food, huh? What has happened to our national food and traditions," said the guy who had already chided the girls for not eating the soup. "What is wrong with Mexican food, it is delicious," said one of the girls.
"And why are you defending it, are there Mexicans in your family?" asked the guy. At that moment, I felt grateful that the food was coupled with coke, rather than wine. If there had been alcohol involved, and believe me, this girl knows something about drunken arguments, then there would have been blood drawn!
No alcohol
It appears that the five-member group is divided into two: those who favor traditional Turkish cuisine and those who have tried to cook other country’s food. The musician fellow has cooked Mexican, greatly disliked, and the young girl cooked Thai the night before, only marginally liked.
The debate on pastirma went on for a good 15 minutes, giving way to other debates in the vein of, "If we stop eating kokoreç, Turkish dish of Balkan origin, made of seasoned, skewered lamb intestines, on the way to the European Union, would we lose our identity?"
And it was right at this moment, gentle reader, I threw up!
The program is modeled after an international format which has been shown in the United States, France, Germany, Britain, Hungary and Denmark. But one wonders whether the national temperament added something to the international style.
Ah, but one food leads to another, and our group of five, presently three women and two men, not only taste each other’s food, but test their beliefs and lives.
Storm in a soup bowl
Take the episode in which Birgül, a housewife in her mid-50s, has to host the other four "gourmets." True to form, she opted for a typically Turkish meal of Ezo Gelin Soup, paçanga börek, veal, vegetables and "chicken rice and chick puree," the rice is shaped like a chicken and the potato puree is shaped like chicks, all laid out on a gaudy, glittery table that reminded you the shop window of French bargain-shop Tati at Christmas.
It was during the meal that Birgül learned that three of the participants do not eat pastırma, a highly seasoned, air-dried cured beef which is the main ingredient of paçanga, two guests hated veal, another two hate soup and a fourth does not eat vegetables. A hostess’ nightmare, only rivaled by one of my distant memories of a Western hostess offering eel soup to the wife of an Justice and Development Party, or AKP, minister.
"Why did you join this gourmet program if you do not eat anything at all," asked one of the competitors, the one who does not eat vegetables, to the two ladies at the table after they passed on the soup and merely touched the veal. One also did not eat the tomatoes, saying they were badly washed.
The sweet smell of pastırma
"I have never tasted pastırma in my life," said a guy whose suit was a cross between an unsuccessful Blues singer and the cliche of small Mafiosi. "Let me do it now," he added with good-humor as he tasted it, to note that it was neither as smelly nor as spicy as he thought it would be.
"You do not eat pastırma but go for Mexican food, huh? What has happened to our national food and traditions," said the guy who had already chided the girls for not eating the soup. "What is wrong with Mexican food, it is delicious," said one of the girls.
"And why are you defending it, are there Mexicans in your family?" asked the guy. At that moment, I felt grateful that the food was coupled with coke, rather than wine. If there had been alcohol involved, and believe me, this girl knows something about drunken arguments, then there would have been blood drawn!
No alcohol
It appears that the five-member group is divided into two: those who favor traditional Turkish cuisine and those who have tried to cook other country’s food. The musician fellow has cooked Mexican, greatly disliked, and the young girl cooked Thai the night before, only marginally liked.
The debate on pastirma went on for a good 15 minutes, giving way to other debates in the vein of, "If we stop eating kokoreç, Turkish dish of Balkan origin, made of seasoned, skewered lamb intestines, on the way to the European Union, would we lose our identity?"
And it was right at this moment, gentle reader, I threw up!
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