Sunday Cookout
I can hardly believe that more than one month has passed! I’ve slacked a little (or a lot!) in updating my blog on news of our life here in Tahiti. Many things have happened, but if I follow in order of occurrence, it will be sooooo outdated. So, here’s what I’m going to do – I’ll write the most recent happenings, beginning with our long weekend last week and go back in time from there.
Last weekend was a four-day weekend in Tahiti, due to Good Friday and Easter national holidays. Unlike other people, Xav and I didn’t plan to go anywhere for the weekend. So, we spent Friday and Saturday hanging around the house, finally putting up all the interior decorations (yes, can you believe that all those frames and Malaysian masks have not seen the light of day since we arrived?!?). In addition to this, we rented some DVDs from the local library (sorry, no pirated DVDs here ;D), read books and went to the beach (Pointe Venus) with the dog. We had a swell time there, since there was hardly anyone at all at the beach, most people having spent their weekends out of Tahiti.
Sunday was a very eventful day. Xav and I were invited over to his colleague’s house. His name is Jean-Michel (French), his wife is Corrine (Tahitian-Chinese) and their one cute little daughter is called Ilona. Others who were invited also were: a Mauritian-Indian-Muslim couple, Feroze (Xav’s colleague) and Raziah, their son Rayhan and daughter Hannah; Stephane (Corrine’s colleague) and Laurence (no idea who she’s related to!). Here we all are in the photo – counter-clockwise from Xav: Stephane, Laurence, Corrine, Jean-Michel, Feroze and Raziah.
Sunday was a combination of activities – cooking, boating and to end the night, a sound debate (literally!). Xav and I arrived at chez Jean-Michel at 8 a.m. (the sun rises early here, which means Xav and I are usually up by 6.30 a.m.!) to start off the day’s events. The rest arrived soon after us and after the round of cheek-kissing and bonjours, we commenced with the food preparation. By ‘we’, I mean just us les filles (the gals) while les garcons (the guys) basically just bummed around, being our unofficial tasters. Okay okay, the guys did more than that – they helped out with the shopping and also stood around and watched, providing unspoken moral support ;D.
The recipe du jour was island food, which comprised of tiny morsels of fried stuff dipped in spicy hot sauce. The fiery taste could only be slightly tamed by pitchers of cold water and a large bowl of salad. For the adventurous few (moi included!), the temptation to burn our lips and tongues could not be quelled and we suffered under a furious labour of munching and swallowing while beads of sweat trickled down the sides of our faces.
It took us girls two hours or so in preparing the fillings. Corrine had already peeled red onions, carrots and potatoes for us to work on. Lots of chit chat went on while we sliced, diced, cubed and mixed vegetables together with what seemed like a ton of meat, fish and chicken (for four different types of fillings, of course!), sesame seed oil, fish sauce (looks like our oyster sauce back home), salt and pepper. Stephane nipped around from place to place, a pen and small notebook in hand, carefully noting all the recipes in this day’s cooking adventure. Once the fillings were ready and cling-wrapped in large salad bowls, we took a brief reprieve for a second breakfast of crepes (very very very thin pancakes and even thinner than tosai) and baguettes with a multitude of drinks on the side. Soon after, we all (yes, guys too!) participated in the wonderful ritual of rolling out dough, stuffing them with the now very juicy, fully-marinated fillings and wrapping or folding them up, ready to be fried or steamed.
We even had a proper system at the table. Guys would separate the ultra-thin layers of dough, lay them on the table while the rest of us stuffed these layers with fillings and wrap or fold them. Xav ventured bravely into the wrapping or folding section for an instant, only to be duly reprimanded for his clumsy craft. He finally gave up the effort and went back to the separation of layers section. Little by little, minute by minute, platters of bouchons, samosas, nems and flattened meatballs (begedil) appeared.
Bouchons were very easy to do – we placed teaspoonfuls of meat filling onto the pre-prepared dough spread in the palm of our hands, then slowly closed our palms, forming natural creases at the top of the dough, much like roses in mid-bloom. These bouchons are steamed. Samosas are like everywhere else – triangle in shape. Forming the cone into which we put the chicken filling was easy enough.
The difficulty lied in folding the cone into a triangle without spilling the filling. The key was in flattening the filling once inside the cone as you are stuffing it. This way, the cone won’t be overstuffed and the triangle will be flat and nicely folded and closed, rather than plump with holes at the ends where the filling can be seen to fall out. 
Nems are spring rolls actually and what I thought were meatballs were really a version of our very own begedil when added with potatoes, flattened and rolled in breadcrumbs! Unfortunately I do not have pictures of all these tasty morsels, since we all had hands dusted with flour and slimy with oil. All done, we cooked some of each of the four types of finger foods and also made a salad. We had a heavy brunch which made inflated our stomachs so much. Since the sauces were ultra-spicy, we drank a lot of cold water, juices, Coca Cola, anything to soothe our burning mouths. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop the fiery war grazing our tongues, nor did it discourage us from eating more of these hot stuff!
So we suffered a little (some of us, a lot!) and decided to cool off in Feroze’s boat in the middle of the sea :D. All enthusiastic, the six of us (Feroze, Raziah, Jean-Michel, Corrine, Xav and I) drove separately to the club where the small boat was moored. We spent close to two hours in the middle of the sea. The wind was surprisingly strong and there were like a gazillion tiny waves, rippling and pushing against our bodies. I think if we'd allowed it, we’d just float far away from the boat! There are many patates (‘potatoes’ or corals) here, but not so many sea beings as you would normally see elsewhere when snorkeling. Even then, it was refreshing just to be outside, basking in the mellow sunlight and shivering in the cool salt waters of the sea. 
Our return brought us closer to dinnertime. Most of us were still full on our heavy brunch, so we decided to take it a little slower this time. Xav and I played with the two little girls – they had sand art materials and I have to admit, it was rather fun doing it :D. And so we ate and drank and laughed and chattered through the night. I’d made an Oreo cheesecake, so we had two desserts, including the chocolate cake made by Corrine. Dessert was followed by an interesting, thought-provoking debate, surprisingly raised by Xav and I.
It began slowly, gained an incredible momentum, climaxed and then mellowed for a while before going through the whole cycle again. The topic of the night was on smoking, tobacco companies and the marketing of tobacco and finally, the big question: who should be held responsible for the millions who smoke and the millions who suffer as a result of this bad habit. Some of us believed that tobacco companies are to blame and that marketing, in particular, has no conscience in what it sells to people. Of course, coming from not only a marketing background, but also from this industry previously, I felt I had a strong say in the matter, and lashed out a valid point that the smoker himself/herself knowingly and willingly smokes without any thought to his/her health, despite the many anti-smoking ad campaigns and the absence of any smoking-related ads on mainstream (and non-mainstream) media. Other points raised were parents’ responsibility and commitment in preventing youth smoking; the influence of society and culture and the involvement of the Government.
So, it was in this way we all went back and forth and the heat of the debate had us all speaking in raised voices, with red faces and eyes full of fire! Once in a while, Corrine would remind us that they had neighbours who were already sleeping by this time. We toned down a little, only to go back to the same volume again :D. It was my first ever French debate, and I was hardly eloquent. But in my broken broken French, I managed to bring my point across and sort of follow the debate. I did get lost here and there and even went out of point many times, but luckily for me, Xav translated everything that was going on in high-speed English and I managed to somewhat catch up. We ended the debate long after 1 a.m., without any solution to the question, except that we all decided to agree to disagree :D.
This debate was a new sort of culture shock for me. A debate in Malaysia would not go to such extremes of practically shouting with strong feelings thrown into it. Everyone at the table back home would remember that they were guests in someone else’s home and that they should maintain a quiet decorum of polite smiles in spite of a heated discussion. In Malaysia, a long word fight of this sort could have severed friendships and stopped weekend invitations from coming our way.
Not how this is done the French style! Here, we bicker, we fight and we curse (I wasn’t aware of this at the time), but we all go home kissing each other’s cheeks, bidding au revoir! and a demain! and actually meaning it.
This long day followed by an even longer night was a good experience for me, even though I was still indignant about this debate a week later! :D
posted by Ghostwriter at 8:46 AM
|
5 comments
