London
As
I was visiting London with my daughter, we popped into the Museum
of Natural History. After going through the basic exhibition, we discovered
that the museum featured a 3-D picture show about the evolution of
species. The show cost 90 pounds, which was a lot, but I bought the
tickets because I thought the information was good for Sanchita's
education.
The 3-D movie turned out to be a disappointment, however, at least
for me. It was a computer animation made in the 1990s, so the artwork
and effects seemed outdated. Then again, Sanchu clearly liked the
show.
After
the movie we were offered a big encyclopedia of the natural sciences
for free. This was a nice surprise but, as I glanced through the pages,
I noticed that the book had been read many times. It was also too
large to fit into my backpack, so I kindly refused.
We
then walked around the streets looking for a place to eat. I had temporarily
left my backpack to the storage room in the museum's lobby but now,
as I studied it, I noticed that my credit card was missing. It was
unlikely that I could retrieve it, even if we went back to look for
it. There was nothing I could do, except to admit my loss.
Fortunately,
I had a little money in my pockets, so we could still have lunch.
We ended up in a Chinese restaurant opposite to a large park.
Looking
around I paid attention to a gentleman who clearly had Indian roots.
Judging by the accent he had grown up in England. He was sitting next
to our table among a group of people who now ordered Sichuan dishes.
The man commented that the food here was hardly Sichuan, though. 'The
taste is not authentic as they use much less spices.' I nodded and
pointed out that in Sichuan they use a lot of chili. The man agreed
but then claimed that the Sichuan variety of chili was no longer available.
'It has ingredients that recent studies have deemed not suitable for
human consumption.'
I
doubted the veracity of the argument. It was true that for a long
time I had not found Sichuan chili Helsinki, but surely in China they
still had it. 'At least in Chengdu', I replied, 'the chili is such
an integral part of the local cuisine that they couldn't do without
it. And they've had the same food for centuries, so how come it would
now be unfit to eat?'
The
man did not answer, but ordered a plate of tiger prawns. When the
food was brought to him, he hesitated for a moment and then took a
bite. 'You haven't had prawns before?' I asked. 'No, this is the first
time,' he admitted.
This
seemed peculiar to me, as the man gave an impression of having travelled
widely. He was silent for a moment until he started coughing and became
red in the face. The waiter came for assistance and they walked together
to the bathroom. After a while the man came back and explained that
he had had an allergic reaction. 'My throat got blocked, my vision
became cloudy, and I felt utterly bad. Luckily, I didn't swallow more.'
I,
too, had ordered king prawns. Strongly marinated it was possible that
they contained flavour enhancers and other additives. I ate slowly,
with caution, but didn't notice anything special.
After
Sanchita had finished, she began to run around in the restaurant.
I followed her so that I could bring her back to the table. I found
her near the exit, pointing to a small pond that had many colourful
fish. At least the fish dishes were fresh, I thought.
The
pond was surrounded by plants and beautiful flowers. Bright green
frogs were leaping on the leaves. A woman sitting nearby commented
that the frogs had a very shiny skin. 'Yes', I said, teaching Sanchita
at the same time, 'The frogs must have moist skin, because that is
how they breathe.'
As
we came back to the table, someone had opened a cookbook. I, too,
could have a look. The recipes were Mediterranean but not so typical.
It had vegetarian and meat dishes but also instructions for cooking
a swordfish and shellfish. One of the recipes even gave directions
for frying a humpback whale. 'Incredible! Who in modern times could
cook a whale?' I exclaimed. 'And where would they get it?'
The
man sitting next to me said that there was a private grocery store
in the Punavuori district of Helsinki which often ordered humpback
whales from the south of Italy. 'But whale hunting is illegal. How
can Italians do such a thing?' The man replied that in a Catholic
country, such as Italy, this was perfectly okay. 'Once you have killed
a whale, you can always go to a priest for confession, if it weighs
heavily on your conscience.'
