Delicacies of Mandalay

I’ve been very worried about getting sick in Myanmar and so my eating has been a little less adventurous. I am more worried about getting sick here than anywhere else. I’ve got very little money with which to bribe officials and the absence of any Western NGOs and aid organizations, not to mention aid-trade partnerships means that Western medicine is a long way away. By a long way away, I mean Bangkok. I’ve seen the hospital, I’ve seen the derelict Mandalay medical school, I’ve seen a clinic with a sign outside reading ‘Creative Health Care’ and believe me, I do not want to have my stomach pumped in this country nor do I want any needles inserted into any part of my body. Given that everything which is vaguely related to the modern world – technology, machinery, cars – seems to be at least ten years old and delivered via an overheated truck from China, I think I am also pretty keen to give the pharmaceuticals a pretty wide berth. Somewhat cautious eating, then, to avoid creative health care. What does this mean? It means a set of non-binding limits: I’m a little reluctant to get stuck into too much meat; after meeting some med students who told horror stories about the bugs which live on the feet of flies, anything which has been a home to flies for a fair amount of time is off the menu; unwashed fruit and veges are verboten; ice from street-stalls to be avoided. I’ve been a bit shy about taking photos about street food and couldn’t upload them anyway… but will do so when I reach the tech-metropolis of Bangkok next week.

* Boiled eggs get sold everywhere on the street. Unlike in Cambodia and Thailand, these do not appear to be the eggs of hens but of some far smaller squawker. The eggs are the size of quail’s eggs and are speckled to boot but somehow, I don’t think that is what they are. Boiled at least to buggery and hence probably beyond salmonella, they could be pigeon’s eggs for all I know. Excellent, sold with a little bag of salt, and at 4 for less than 10c, a very reasonable snack.

* How can anything that has been deep-fried in a wok on the side of the street harbour any bacteria? Women sit by the street cooking little veggie patties which are like pakoras: corn, spinachy lentils, peas, chickpeas all held together with chickpea flour, served with chilli sauce. Also extremely cheap (10c each) and yummy with deep-fried bananas for dessert as a bonus. The deep-fried bananas are not for the faint of heart. Fortunately, I am extremely sturdy of heart. The bananas in Myanmar are excellent.

* I was invited for lunch with the family of my lovely friend Daw Ton, a woman who I met on vipassana. Daw Ton and her family presented the epitome of Burmese hospitality. I was served a dry tomato fish curry crunchy with little bones and fins, okra in sour soup, mixed veges, pickled beansprouts, sweet pumpkin curry… and the piece de resistance? A curry made of congealed chicken’s blood. Congealed chicken’s blood resembles dark red tofu in appearance and texture. Oh, these people were so kind and hospitable! There was no way I could refuse the main course of the meal so I thought that I would just deal with the chook matter and eat it first off with a big smile and then move on to the rest. Of course, this was understood as a sign of great enjoyment and more and more was piled onto my plate. This was endurance eating. What can I say about congealed chook’s blood? It’s not as bad as it sounds, but the bad sound of it blurred my capacity to objectively taste it. Quite bland and very rich. I could never get excited about black pudding, one of my father’s favourite things and I can think of about fourteen million other things I’d rather have in a curry than congealed chicken’s blood.

* Street sweets. These definitely break the no flies rule but are so yummy that a little flexibility is in order. Rice noodles – flat sheets or vermicelli – wrap up little portions of supersweetness like nut paste, pounded beans, soaked coconut which are then drizzled with sugar syrup and fresh coconut.

* Toddy juice. I’m still not actually sure what this is. I think toddy fruit is the fruit of some sort of palm tree and toddy juice is the sappy liquid inside the fruit, like the juice of a coconut. I have a feeling that palm sugar and jaggery come from the toddy palm but am not 100% sure. The juice was like very thick slimy coconut juice, much sweeter and with a heavy fruity aroma. Cold and with a hefty tot of alcohol, I’m sure it would be delightful. This drink was served to me by my friend Mr Le Min who told me that the thick heavy juice ferments through the day and turns into a beery alcoholic liquid by the afternoon. Whether this is true or not, I have no idea but Mr Le Min is a model dhammist with no reason to lie.

* Condiments ahoy! Pickled tea leaves are big news in Myanmar and I personally feel that their fame should spread. Fresh green mango pickles, the salsas of Burmese cuisine, are also pretty ubiquitous and mighty darn good. Finely sliced green mangoes in vinegar (I think) with sliced onion, green chilli, oil and miscellaneous spices. Balachaung is the standard chilli condiment to be sprinkled on everything. It consists of chilli, shrimp and tamarind, all deep fried until crispy together. The veggie version of this gave some crunch and oomph to many many stodgy vipassana curries but even balachaung could not reconcile me to the congealed chicken’s blood.
* Really excellent Chinese food. Food from the Shan state of Myanmar has lots in common with southern Chinese food and seems pretty popular. I was taken to eat excellent Szechuan steamed buns and dim sum with iridescent chilli sauce and coffee made with carnation milk.