October 24, 2010
Abraham and I woke up before sunrise and snuck out to the early morning market in a part of Kuala Lumpur called Imbi. As we left, we promised to bring back treats for Alice and Griffin.
Imbi's famous for its chickens, and Abraham had never seen where his Dad's sauteed chicken breast actually comes from. Neither did Alice and Griffin. In the back of the market were rows of chicken cages. I was ambivalent about showing Abraham the gory process of killing a chicken, but was propelled to do it after hearing the call from Omnivore's Dilemma to know where our food comes from to be responsible, healthier eaters.
So, Boom watched from afar (not quite so bloody) as men slit the chicken's throats them dropped them into a huge, bloody bin to bleed to death. Then, they'd dump them into a tumbler that seemed to remove the feathers. Then, into a big vat of boiling water, then onto be chopped up. We ordered chicken breasts and watched them cut the chicken off the bone, removing the skin to produce a chicken breast that could have come straight from a Costco package. I promptly bought it and left, only realizing when I got home that I left the breast behind on the counter, after all that. I highly recommend 3rd world market shopping, without a hangover.
Boom was not traumatized. Just fascinated. Although, when we got home he did say "They slit chicken's necks to kill them, but they don't slit our necks because we're not chickens, right?"
Then, we watched a man chop our salmon off the bone, removing the skin. And, Boom ground up some unknown white fish in a grinder, and they added water chestnut and herbs to it. They gave us the ground fish mix and some handmade dumpling wraps so I could fill the wraps with the ground fish to make dumplings for soup and more. Mmmm, Dinner!
Boom's job was to buy the treats for Alice and Griffin. He chose mini-crepes, later filled with nutella, donuts, and nut/butter pancakes. And, he insisted on getting flowers for Alice. Breakfast is served!
I've probably told you the story, but this reminds me of years ago, when Nate was riding in a car seat in the car, and I had brought sliced turkey as a snack. So, I asked him, "would you like some turkey?" He asked, "is it dead?" I, stunned, said, "yes, it's dead." He asked, "Who killed it?" I, fumbling,replied, "Uh, the farmer or the butcher" He said, "they must have been very angry"... Always a treat to read your posts. Preparing for the bar mitzvah and missing your family's presence already.
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