deep focus

Did you know that camel milk does not curdle easily? If you didn't, now you do.

The Atlantic food blog Abroad is an absolute delight.

Take for instance, a post today by Graeme Wood about a chocolatier who moved to Dubai in order to make (and spread the word about) Camel milk chocolate:

Selling chocolate in 130-degree Dubai heat is slightly absurd, like opening a gelato stand in the Sahara. The Emirate is not known for its food, or for its friendliness to expensive things that can melt. … Camel milk chocolate, he says, produces a vaguely salty taste, distinct from the usual cow’s milk. High-end outlets in Dubai, most notably the ultralux Burj al Arab hotel, snapped up his stock, and now international chocolatiers are catching on as well.

Mmmmm… well, if it doesn’t sound all that tasy, consider what else is on offer at the Burj al-’Arab. Personally, I’d rather eat Camel chocolate than caviar with gold sprinkled on it. Or anything else with gold sprinkled on it. I’m pretty sure that’s what you do with money only after you’ve exhausted all other possibilities of uses for it, like diving into money and swimming through it.

The chocolatier-turned-camel-derivatives-evangelist has some interesting ideas for his chocolate, the best of which seems to be a camel milk chocolate bar flecked with dates. Man, that sounds good.

The post also makes me feel much less guilty about skipping camel meat during my time abroad (and incidentally makes for an excellent lede):

At one point in Wilfred Thesiger’s journeys in Arabian Sands, a rival tribe cuts him off from his source of food and water. Thesiger’s Bedouin guides reassure him: if we get desperate, we will shove stick a throat down a camel’s throat, and eat what comes up.

Is there any large animal less appetizing than the dromedary camel? It screams hoarsely and loudly, for no obvious reason. It stinks. And its meat (prized in some cultures, though nowhere known for haute cuisine) is as dry as the places it inhabits. A few years ago, I used to frequent the Birqash market outside Cairo, Egypt, where hundreds of camels caper around on spindly legs, like big hairy flamingos, and are thwacked intermittently with rods by their Nubian herders. Something is fundamentally wrong with an animal that smiles at you when you beat it with a stick.

Poor camels. I bet they’d rather be milked than thwacked.

The food Abroad blog also had a great series on Gazan cuisine a little while back. A commenter named jeff (who a friend–perhaps unduly–speculates is Jeffrey Goldberg, Atlantic bogger) took issue with its content:

Though it is interesting to hear about food in Gaza, the many political references and digs at Israel are extremely inappropriate.

Check out the series (in two parts, here and here, with an accompanying slideshow here) and decide for yourself. For me, it’s a fascinating and heartbreaking illustration of how the Gaza blockage/siege affects daily life. The IDF now limits fisherman to three nautical miles offshore, limiting the amount of fish that can be caught and sold. Beef is very rare, leading to lamb substitutions in many traditional dishes. Why? Because live animals are not allowed into Gaza legally. Smuggling could circumvent this, but calves either won’t fit into the tunnels running from Egypt into Gaza, or they get claustrophobic and panic. Sheep, on the other hand, just need a thwack, and then they’ll dutifully find their way through the tunnel on their own.

Finally, about the upscale camel chocolate, check out the punny name the chocolatier has on hand in case someone figures out how to make camel cheese.

(HT to RAG)