Kitchen Wisdom

It will come as no surprise to many of you that—faced with the often overwhelming task of learning the Kazakh language and integrating into Kazakh culture—I headed immediately for the kitchen. Though I myself am no great chef, I have always found cooking to be the best entry point into a new place and a new people (or for that matter, into an old place and familiar people). Food is at the heart (or more accurately, at the stomach) of culture, and those who prepare the food, though not often acknowledged as the "heads", are undoubtedly the hearts and stomachs of families and communities. And in my experience, they are also the best teachers. My mothers* in Kazakhstan have only confirmed my theories. Below are (hopefully, if this blogging experiment goes according to plan) some pictures of the foods and kitchens that have sustained me for the past 3 months. There is much, much more to share about food and eating and cooking in Kazakhstan—I would estimate that 30% of my time here is spent in some food-related activity—but this "taste" will have to do for now.

*With apologies to my real mother (who is already chuckling about the kitchen lessons I learned from her, like "make sure to take the aluminum foil off the sandwich before microwaving it" and "if you program the Dion's Pizza number into your phone, you can call as you leave school and it will be ready to pick up on your way home"), I will refer to my host mothers simply as "mother". If you saw them smile when I call them "anam" or the warmth with which they calls me "kuzm," you would understand why.