Life is uncertain, eat!

Yesterday was a day of culinary discovery.   A new coffee shop called the North End (uhhh, sound like Boston?) opened in a nearby neighborhood and I’ve been trying to get there for weeks.  Their hours at 7AM-8PM and they are closed on Fridays, so it’s been tough to get there with my work schedule.  However, I have an eye on performing here sometime, so I managed to convince my friend Farhan to go with me to check it out.  We ordered two lattes and when I went up to introduce myself to the owners (who, coincidentally are FROM Boston, so that North End reference, yeah, it should sound like Boston!), I noticed that their cinnamon rolls looked amazing.  Freshly iced, gooey, warm.  Mmmmm.  So I ordered us one—breakfast was at least an hour behind me, a distant memory in food time.  It did not disappoint, even Ann Sathers, my favorite post-run Swedish restaurant with huge cinnamon rolls, could learn a thing or two from these guys.  I will be back shortly—I think that I might make it my unofficial office.  Good coffee, quiet space, wifi—assuming I can pace myself on the cinnamon rolls, it’s just about perfect.

As we’re paying, I ask if I can get a coffee to go.  "No," the owner says, "I haven’t been able to find a supplier for lids.  There isn’t a big enough take out market here."  “Fascinating!” the little sociologist in my brain says, scheming away on how to solve this so that I can get take out coffee.  Obviously I can just bring my thermos, but it’s far more interesting to think about how to create a takeout culture, particularly around my favorite vice, coffee.  Farhan looks at me and laughs, “When I see that smile, I get this feeling that you’re going to stay here forever.”  On a bit of a sugar and caffeine high, I am inclined to agree with anything.

So I figured that was the highlight of my day—the discovery of a very good pastry is certainly enough for me to consider it a Saturday well used, and I head into the office.  But, Dhaka isn’t finished with me yet.  My friend Saad picks me up in the late afternoon, and we drive north, past Uttara, and are suddenly not in the urban area.  Bangladesh is essentially a flat country, so you can see forever.  It’s intensely green and there are small bodies of water in every nook and cranny.  The little matchstick houses all sit on stilts; in the rainy season, there will be much more water and less green.  I’m excited to see it, though still need to secure some serious rainboots so that I have some mobility.  We stop at a fish and produce market on the road.  While I study the produce, I think for a minute about the similarities between this scene and all the produce stands in Eastern North Carolina.  I wonder how boiled peanuts would sell here.  Saad buys a few things, but my presence generally results in higher prices, so he’s at a bit of a disadvantage.    

While he's driving, I'm staring out at the landscapes that we're passing.  I love the sunsets here.  There aren’t ever really a lot of clouds—it’s either smoggy/foggy or clear, so there’s either no sunset or an extremely colorful one.  The sun turns great shades of increasingly darker orange and red.  The water matches it, and the rivers are narrow and still, so the reflection is very true.  Evidently on the islands down past Barisal you can see the sunrise and the sunset over the water.  That sounds like something worth figuring out how to do.

Our drive takes us to Mirpur, which is where the National Cricket Stadium is.  We turn off the main road, go through several streets selling nothing but sarees (so much pun potential!!), and then stop in front of a fairly nondescript kabab restaurant with a guy throwing meat into a huge pot of really hot oil.  It takes a minute for the aroma to hit my nose, and then I’m excited and starving.  I start pointing at things and saying “what’s this? What’s that?”  I pause when at one point the guy responds, “brains.”  And decide he’s messing with me (he’s not).  We get some mutton, beef, fried deliciousness patties with muttons, onions, and spices, some chipati to use to soak up a bit of the oil.  These guys know their marinades—the mutton truly dissolves in your mouth and is perfectly seasoned.  Perfectly.  To the point when I’m sort of sad when I’ve finished my meal because it’s gone.  And I thanked my lucky stars that I ended my vegetarian phase some time ago because it would have been a crying shame to miss this food (Nina, take note if you're coming to visit anytime :).

Pot-ential employment opportunities?  This could be a very satisfrying line of work....

 I am glad that I could never find this place on my own because otherwise I would face serious challenges fitting into my clothes within a few weeks (sarees on the other hand are one size fits all).  Mmmm, I’m salivating right now just thinking about it.  And smiling my silly little "I could stay awhile" smile.  Dhaka's still got me smitten, to say that least.

Do I look like I'm having fun yet?