April 15, 2007

  • On
    the Trail of the Elusive Eggplant

    "Rob,"
    asked my partner in crime one fine Slovenian evening, the work day
    coming to an end, "what do you want to eat tonight?"

    I
    smiled – I knew exactly what I was in the mood for.

    "I
    want spaghetti with tomato sauce and aubergine."

    "What's
    aubergine?"

    "Eggplant."

    "What's
    eggplant?"

    After
    some explanation, and some help from another one of the guys form
    another affiliated company, we worked out that in Italian, aubergine
    is melanzane.

    We
    went to the Marco Polo Club (see post passim) where my personal
    translators worked their wonders.

    "No
    melanzane," came the word from the kitchen. Ah well – despite
    being English, I do not partake in the English tradition of
    complaining (at least, not all the time), and so I accepted a tasty
    tomato sauce to adorn my noodles. Molto delicioso.

    The
    next day for lunch we went to the other decent place in Nova Gorica
    for food, and I asked my partner's mate (the guy who runs the place)
    if he could prepare that same food for me. Alas, the same answer as
    before came. I was beginning to wonder if there was a world shortage
    of aubergine in Slovenistan.

    Early
    the following week we headed to another place fairly close to the
    office which served an awesome soup – it must be said – but alas
    once more no aubergine, eggplant or indeed melanzane. What I was
    served instead was nothing short of instant heart attack, for those
    with a lesser heart strength than mine – deep fried mozzarella and
    french fries (or freedom fries if you're a francophobe Americano).

    The
    evening we went to Marco Polo club once more, where I was in the mood
    for pizza. I was feeling a tad adventurous and so went for a pizza
    calzone verde – where I surprised to fine aubergine was included
    inside, at least on the menu. When the pizza did arrive, however, it
    was instead mushrooms (from a can) and artichoke (which I also fear
    came from a similar source). But no aubergine.

    To
    my final evening then, where given the facts that it was late, my
    partner was feeling ill, and football was on TV, I decided to eat at
    the hotel. There seemed to be more staff than customers, and I
    decided I would try one last time to get that dish I had been
    yearning for over the last week or so.

    "Do
    you speak English?" I asked the waitress.

    "Italiano."

    So
    in a unique mix of English, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian and perhaps
    even a touch of Mandarin, I managed to get her to understand that I
    am vegetarian and that I want spaghetti in a tomato sauce with
    garlic, basil and aubergine. To my intense surprise, fifteen minutes
    later arrived the very food I ordered, cooked almost in the very way
    that I wanted. I ate heartily, drank a glass of red wine to
    complement the dinner, and finished reading my book about Thai
    prostitutes (and other things).

    Fully
    satisfied, I paid and retired to my room, where I got to watch the
    Manc Scum lose to the Romans. I think the big difference to mainland
    European (especially Italian) and English football is the level of
    theatrics. When a European (especially Italian) is fouled, the fouled
    player rolls on the ground, crying for his mother, a doctor or at
    least a supporting role in a poor sit-com or second-rate soapie. When
    an English player is fouled, he gets up pretty quickly whilst the
    rest of the team surrounds the referee, presumably to shield him from
    view as the fouled player quickly aims a punch or kick or both at one
    of the opposition. But this remark about football was nothing but a
    digression from the topic. My apologies.

    It's
    been a delicious culinary two weeks in Slovenistan, with some
    excellent meals and wine, but I am happy to be heading back to Taiwan
    for a month. I have missed Taiwan – the foods, the smells, the view
    from my home... all the things that perhaps people sometimes take for
    granted. Of course, having left Taiwan before - just under seven
    years ago - and returning eighteen months later, I am not guilty of
    that. I appreciate every day my life in Asia, and am very lucky that
    there is a constant supply of aubergine.