I love eating with my hands. I love sitting down to a meal of whole fish, beans, spinach and rice with freshly washed hands because I know what comes next. I get to squish some rice around in my palm, making a nice tight little ball that I use to collect spinach before stabbing some fish that I just peeled off the bone and then wading through the beans. Then I take the whole messy stack, scooped onto my middle, ring and pinky fingertips and with a little help from behind, my thumb pushes the whole delicious helping into my mouth. I look around and enjoy seeing a room full of adults eating with their hands. Naughty naughty … or normal.
I vaguely remember growing up and hearing (from various grown-ups) things like ‘Don’t be a pig’ or ‘Use your fork’ or ‘You’re eating like a savage’ – just because I was eating with my hands. Just because I was eating like millions of other people around the world. I know, I know – there’s a time and a place for such behavior and at a nice reception following a big Catholic mass wedding, it’s probably not prudent. But, sometimes it’s necessary and so – when I have a little family, we’re gonna have global grubbin’ nights where we eat with our hands, or chopsticks, or only a spoon or we pick up the food with the chipati. We’ll talk about the cultures, the foods, the tools for eating, the reasons why some cultures only eat with their right hand even though our culture wipes with the right … shhh… don’t tell!
Today, just before this blog I had fish from Lake Victoria – Sato. It tasted just like chicken … or at least my memory of chicken, which I haven’t eaten since I was 16 years old … you do the math. 😉 I’m sure it was just the fried skin, but it was yummy and indeed, finger lickin’ good … a luxury lost on those who use forks and knives. haha!