Street Food -- the very essence of a country or region's tradition. Wherever you go in the world, the food of the streets mirrors the ways of ordinary people - each recipe reflecting lifestyle, race and religion. Join us on a unique global exploration of street fare.
View Al Jazeera - Street Food. Videos hosted on Youtube. Street Food – the very essence of a country or region's tradition. Wherever you go in the world, the food of the streets mirrors the ways of ordinary people - each recipe reflecting lifestyle, race and religion. Often developed over centuries, it is more than a cheap source of nourishment. It tells stories of shifting populations, trade connections and evolving identities. Key ingredients proclaim a melting pot of cultures, while culinary customs and techniques give a place its individuality. Often across the world - from the richest city to the poorest backwater - the story of street food is one of poverty, struggle and enterprise. Some dishes are iconic, others unknown beyond their street corner, but all blend the flavours of local history, economy and politics. And they are given extra piquancy by very relevant modern issues - famine, obesity, ethnic rivalry, the environment. Whether you are a tourist or a local tribesman, join us on a unique global exploration of street fare.
Nairobi
One of the most interesting things about Nairobi is its diversity. There are more than 42 different ethnic communities living in the Kenyan capital. Each brings unique dishes, traditional foods and flavours. However, as with all African cities, the divide between rich and poor is very stark. Many millions of people across Africa are dependent on street food not only for nourishment, but as a means of making a living. But poor hygiene practices and rising food prices cost thousands of lives. Street Food explores what, if anything, is being done to tackle the issue.
London
Visitors to London could be forgiven for thinking they are seeing a quintessentially English city. But behind the picture postcard facade of some of its most recognisable monuments, London is one of the most multicultural capitals in the world. More than a third of Londoners belong to a minority ethnic group and speak one of the 200 different languages in the city of about eight million people. Nowhere is this more evident than in the city's East End, an area that has seen centuries of immigration. Food has played a crucial part in the integration of these communities and one street - Brick Lane - above all, tells this story. Once the home of traditional fare, it is now the heartland of the city's Bangladeshi community.
New York City
Known as the Big Apple, New York City is home to about nine million people and hosts an additional 40 million visitors every year, which makes for a lot of stomachs to feed. Quick snacks, above all the hot dog, are as synonymous with New York as yellow cabs and skyscrapers and reflect the city's eclectic ethnic mix. Yet few people realise that many of the city's thousands of street vendors - including Brooklyn's famed 'Falafel King' - face a daily struggle that belies the city's wealthy and glamourous image.
San Sebastian
San Sebastian is the food heartland of Spain's Basque region. The Basque people are proud and protective of their culture, language, and traditions. Among the traditions they have maintained are the men-only food societies, where women are barred from cooking and the conversation over a meal ultimately turns to the sometimes volatile political climate. The cuisine, both in Basque homes and on the streets of San Sebastian, is also a product of a traditional way of life – seafood, delivered by generations of local fishermen - takes centre stage. This fish diet, around which the Basque palette revolves, is one these people want to preserve. It provides local families with a livelihood and their evening meal, but over-fishing and competition threaten stocks and a unique way of life. From the alleys of San Sebastian dotted with pinxto bars, to nearby sleepy fishing villages where fish is consumed directly from the sea – this episode of Street Food explores the struggle to preserve identity and to maintain simple local traditions.
Penang
Whether you are a tourist or a local tribesman, Veronica Pedrosa discovers the street really is the place to eat. But the food does more than feed locals and visitors alike, it tells a story that has developed over time - influenced by the movement of people, the trade of produce and the demands of consumerism - it caters not only to the tastebuds but the hip pocket, where meals are fast and often inexpensive. It is through this food that we are given a window into the lives of ordinary people – the people that give a place its soul and identity. This Malaysian state epitomises the variety, colour and flair of Asian street food culture. We discover a land where multiculturalism is not an aim but very much a long-standing way of life.
Beijing
China's economy is expanding at an astounding rate – but its waistlines, are too. The food of the streets tells the story of a culture torn between tradition and modernity, the customs of an ancient past competing with the convenience age of the new. What will survive and what will be lost? In a China which has gone within two generations from mass starvation to mass obesity, what does the future hold?
Cairo
A desperate shortage of staple foods, brought about partly by oil prices, has sparked riots around the world. In Egypt, where the common word for bread means "life", Street Food investigates the cost for the average person.
Jerusalem
A city torn by politics and war - yet whatever a citizens' race and religion, much of their customary street food is the same. What does it say about a shared identity and, despite decades of turmoil, how much does that bring hope for the future?
Mumbai
In the first of a new series Al Jazeera's Divya Gopalan attempts to understand the real Mumbai by taking a culinary journey through its Street Food. Mumbai, the biggest metropolis in India, is also known as Bombay, or to some locals, the city of dreams. More than 300 migrant families arrive here every day from all over India seeking their fortune. The city's overwhelming fusion of religions and cultures, of prosperity and poverty, is reflected in its wide array of street food. At Victoria Terminus, the British-built central railway station that was renamed Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus by a Hindu nationalist party 12 years ago, commuters munch on vada pao, a traditional local snack. While down at trendy Juhu beach vendors sell belpuri, an authentic Gujarati snack. Al Jazeera visited Mumbai at the height of the biggest Hindu festival here, to mark the birth of Ganesh, the city's favourite god. We also sampled some Ramadan treats in the city's main Muslim area, Mohammad Ali Road and visited the burgeoning slum of Dharavi. Through Mumbai's food it becomes apparent it is a diverse and a metropolis which thrives on enterprise amidst dichotomy.
Osaka
Osaka, Japan's second largest city, has long been known as the country's gastronomic capital or, as the locals say, the "nation's kitchen". For centuries it has been famed for the quality and range of its food – from street eats to fine dining. Osaka is a port city, a sprawling metropolis and bustling commercial hub where world-renowned corporations have their headquarters and the city's natives are equally renowned for their passion for food. There's an old saying that Tokyo people ruin themselves by overspending on fine footwear, Kyoto people on fine clothing and Osaka people on fine food. It is summed up by the Japanese word "kuidaore" which literally means to become poor as a result of one's over indulgence in eating and drinking. Osaka's geographical location means it has been spoilt for choice when it comes to local produce. The city has long enjoyed a plentiful supply of seafood from Osaka Bay and the Pacific Ocean and rice and vegetables grown in neighbouring regions. The market at Honjo has been trading in fish for nearly 500 years. Tuna sold here now comes from all over the world – from Indonesia and even the Gulf. Traditionally, Osaka's rich merchants enjoyed spending their money on the best dishes available. However, you do not have to spend a fortune to enjoy a good meal and food is still cooked and sold on the street and eating in Osaka is less formal than elsewhere in Japan. Takoyaki and Okonomiyaki are the most famous street food snacks – Octopus dumplings and cabbage fried in batter respectively. Eating in Osaka is less formal than elsewhere in Japan. Historically, Osaka was dominated by merchants and commerce which created a less hierarchical society than in Tokyo where the influence of the Samurai means status is more important. The main area for street food in Osaka is Dotonbori – a downtown area bathed in neon and especially popular with young people. In Dotonbori and all over Osaka you will find many restaurants selling "fugu" – otherwise known as blowfish or pufferfish. Fugu contains a poison hundreds of times more lethal than cyanide and has claimed thousands of lives. But that does not put people off and more fugu is eaten in Osaka than anywhere else in Japan. In fact, eating fugu is said to bring happiness and luck. By law, to be eaten safely, fugu must be prepared by specially trained and licensed chefs. And there are plenty of budding candidates at the Tsuji Culinary Institute, which claims to be the world's largest cookery school, with about 3,000 budding chefs enrolled looking for careers in the city's many upmarket restaurants. But there is another side to Osaka that is seldom seen by the wider world. Many people are forced to live hand to mouth and street food is very much for street people. It is mostly men who are forced to camp out in the streets, victims of the economic woes of the 1990s. Indeed this deprived side of Osaka has developed into a gangland of organised crime, drugs and guns. Members of the locally-based Yamaguchi-gumi, the biggest and most notorious Yakuza family in japan, have a taste for Fugu. They believe the poisonous fish suits their "devil may care" lifestyle. Behind Osaka's facade of talking skyscrapers, flashing bulbs and neon glitz, the "kitchen of Japan" has never forgotten the basics - good food at the right prices, right where you want it, served fast. Osaka is a city that looks to the future without leaving the past behind.
Monteal
Strolling the streets of Montreal you could sometimes be forgiven for thinking you were in Europe. It has a distinct feel from other Canadian cities such as Toronto, unsurprising given that as well as being the largest city in the province of Quebec it is the second-largest French speaking city in the world after Paris. "Montreal is basically a French city," Josh Freed, a journalist with the Montreal Express, says. "This is a little slice of France in North America, where people speak French, live in French." Just as the French language is at the heart of Quebecois identity, so too is food. "I just read a poll this morning: with the current economic problems, what would you give up first? And Quebeckers unlike the rest of Canada, the one thing they won’t give up is their food shopping," Freed says. "Food is just food in English Canada. In Quebec food is like holy material and that's a very French thing." With a burgeoning reputation as a "foodie's" paradise Montreal has largely foregone traditional street food and roadside snack vendors or outlets are a rare sight. High-end eateries however are not, such as Europea, where Francoise Kayler widely regarded as the doyenne of Quebecois cuisine often enjoys dishes such as Quebec-reared scallops served on foam scented with real sea water. "For a Francophone cuisine is a language of its own – it is a means of self-expression like painting or writing," she says. "I feel that Anglophones are more in a hurry at the table – restaurant owners will tell you that they eat and run; whereas we Quebecois stay longer and talk about what we've eaten, and even what we’re going to eat." Such freedom to express their Qeubecois identity has been a long-fought political struggle for Montreal residents. Despite a French-speaking majority dating back to the 16th century, Quebec was largely English until the 1960s. A nationalist movement to empower the Francophone majority grew in strength until the province came within one per cent of declaring independence in a referendum in 1995.
Separatism has declined since then, but Anglo-French tensions remain, particularly when it comes to language.
In the 1970s French replaced English as the province’s official language. Even many well-known international brands must still be translated into French and a language police the "Office de la langue francaise" was created.
Such linguistic tensions have invariably spilled into the gastronomic arena and the zealousness of the language police have annoyed some establishemnets.
"We received a letter… stating that an inspector came into our establishment and noting that the signs on our walls were all in English,” Dean laderoute, the owner of McKibbins pub, says.
"We were instructed in the letter either to translate the signs or remove them. All the signs in question were basically antiques, decoration, signs that we purchased in Ireland that can’t be translated.
"We do live in a French society. However… where do you go next? Do you say that the ambient music should be in French too?" The politics of language are increasingly of little importance to many young Montrealers. Largely bilingual they are increasingly drawn from not only across Quebec and Canada but the world in general.
St Laurent Boulevard, known to locals as "the Main" was once the dividing line between English and French speaking communities in the city but today is testament to the myriad of cultures that exist in modern Montreal.
A Main mainstay and Montreal institution is Swartz's Hebrew Delicatessen which has been selling bagels for decades and, according to food writer Barry Lazar, looks largely the same as it did 50 years ago.
But while Swartz's may have stood still in time, the large Jewish community it originally served has not been immune to the Anglo-French struggles which so dominated the city recently.
"The Jewish community was not allowed to go to the French school system because it was Catholic," Lazar says. “So you had an entire generation of the Jewish community that was not allowed to learn French the way French people were.
"They were disenfranchised about what was going on in Quebec…… And so they gradually moved to various places: a lot of people moved to the States, a lot of people moved to Toronto."
Earlier immigrants to Montreal came largely from Eastern Europe but the multiplicity of ethnic restaurants on the Main reveal that today's arrivals come from more impoverished or troubled parts of the world such as Latin America, the Middle East, and Africa.
Twenty five-year-old Omeed came to Montreal from Iran as a teenager and like many immigrants he spoke some English, but no French.
However a controversial Quebec law rules that new arrivals are offered a state education only in French.
"It's very good, because if there is not this law, they won’t go. And for them to learn French is necessary to live in Quebec," he says. Omeed’s willingness to embrace the Quebecois way indicates the lengths people will go for a chance of a successful life in Montreal. Despite the importance given to eating well and the obvious joy taken in it lack of food is a growing problem and despite Canada's generous welfare state, poverty is not hard to find.
Montreal is home the largest food-bank in Canada helping to feed over 150,000 people a month by distributing free food to various charitable organisations.
One such group is the Native Friendship Centre which caters to Montreal's community of aboriginals, Canada's indigenous inhabitants.
Many aboriginals left their reservation for the city in search of better opportunities but fell on hard times and were victims of negative stereotyping that can still be found in Canadian society.
There is a certain irony that while so much energy continues to be expended here on the struggle between the French and English speakers, from the aboriginal perspective both were imperial invaders.
And while new immigrants may encounter opportunities - many aboriginals continue to be marginalised.
But as Brendan, an aboriginal who helps manage the friendship centre, says the joy taken in food in Montreal provides some common ground and is what the city is all about.
"Feasts have always been a part of native, and Inuit, tradition," he says.
"To get people together, to eat, to socialise, to share."
From: Al Jazeera
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