The World can be your oyster

Having arrived in the U.K. at the tender and innocent age of 22, I did a lot of my growing up and learning in this country. 

Kilometres and litres had been the norm, but I soon got used to measuring distances in miles especially once I learnt to drive on the left. For a long time now, I’ve weighed food and written recipes in ounces and lbs rather than grams. Once, I was even disgusted when a Sunderland market trader was threatened with prison if he didn’t adopt the new EU regulations of using kilograms on his fruit and veg stall. I am now happier being 5’11” than 1.70m which now sounds foreign to me and my shoes are no longer size 42 but 8 ½. While I often miss some of the fruit, vegetables and other foods I grew up with, there are many more that I only discovered in this country. 

Before I arrived, I had never come across broccoli, Brussels sprouts or avocados but grew to love them. However, the first time I tasted baked beans, I nearly threw up. They were so sweet! And yet, I no longer can imagine a full English without them nowadays.
Tea with milk! Are you kidding me? The only tea I drank back in the old country was minted tea and never with breakfast. 

My mother’s cooking was legendary yet her vegetables, while still whole, were never al dente, as I prefer them now. 
If, on an Algerian holiday, I get to cook a meal, my sisters and their offspring cannot hide their horror and disgust at my “nearly-raw” green beans.
Sometimes, the lines get somewhat blurred between B.C. (Before Coming to the U.K.) or A.D. (After Departing from Algeria) and I find myself wondering when I first came across something. 

One thing I know for sure is that I only discovered oysters in Hartlepool.

Mr Bill Hodgson, whose family owns the famous fishmongers in Whitby street often dined at Krimo’s. As I did not serve oysters at the restaurant, on a couple of Bill’s special family celebrations, a few dozen were delivered to the restaurant to be served before the meal. Alan, his son even sent us an oyster knife to help open the shellfish. And of course, I had to test it. It was only then that, for the first time I tried oysters, under the disgusted gaze of the young commis chefs and kitchen porter. Once opened, I was told to discard a little of the sea water leaving some to flavour the oyster. A couple of drops of lemon juice and I slurped the oyster, resting it on my tongue for a few seconds, lightly chewing it and down it went. It felt like the first time I tried an unpleasant cough pastille but the remaining taste was delicious. A mixture of sea water and lemon. I instantly became an oyster lover and felt like I had joined a secret club. 

Nowadays, as the effects of globalisation have sadly taken hold of world trade, there is rarely a place on earth where one cannot find food from home. 

I feel we have alas lost something precious such as the wonder that comes with the discovery of  new things.