|
To start
this academic year off, the Turkish American Student
Association held their Ramadan Friendship Dinner, an event
that hopes to connect Stony Brook students to Turkish
culture. The dinner, held at SAC 305, began with me sitting
through pleasant instrumental music and eating sweet nougats
of chewy treats while club members set up the projector
system. Loukoum, or Turkish Delight, is a confection with a
soft, jelly-like and sticky consistency, and is often eaten
in small cubes dusted with icing sugar. I later learned it
is made from figs.
While my knowledge of Turkey involves its joining the EU and
the infamous “I am Hungary for Turkey” t-shirt, the food was
a splendid contrast to the standard pizza affair common to
most SB clubs. While I may not be accurate with the food
names, I will attempt to flesh out my ethnic food immersion
and bring justice to the delicious Turkish feast, provided
compliments of the New York Turkish Cultural Center.
The five course adventure started with the simple white rice
speckled with brown grains. This velvety pilaf had an earthy
aroma and a subtle (chicken?) stock flavor. This creamy
paradise stood next to the staunch pillar of any meal, the
versatile master of crunch recognized as simply “salad”. The
vegetable combination encompassed a diverse jungle of leafy
greens, including a light vinaigrette of unknown origins,
and acted as a powerful balance to the next course, meat and
potatoes. The spiced potato and beef chunk stew was a
dangerous red and hearty centerpiece of the banquet. It was
a rich combination of fiery determination to end world
hunger and a gradational pull besting that of the 1lb
Hungryman animal factory farming complex. Fist sized volumes
of meat and spud flooded my foam plate and set my lifespan
forward by a decade, extending me into a time distorted
dimension of immediate well being and the shimmering fog of
existence.
Wading what seemed to be years in a maze, I came across the
artisan rustic bread, fired by the stone ovens of the
ancient Ottoman Empire and kneaded by the millennium old
techniques passed down through the fading exhalation of each
generation. This bread encased by a crackling white hull
that held moist chewy dough has the distinction of feeding
civilization itself.
At the end of my journey, I came upon a plain crisp pastry
with a sharp sweet syrup glaze. This self-reflecting treat
showed me the difficult path of cultural cognition through
which centuries of layered history has been built upon the
culinary foundations of the Republic of Turkey.
Bottom line, next year make sure you do their event. No
other club came close in terms of palate pleasure. |
