Yip Yip Yip Yip

It’s always exciting, trying something new. I tend to cling to my “usuals”, in the day-to-day, so it was fun to venture out into a new direction, and after my cooking class, I needed to get some new spices and ingredients. So a quick search led me to KC India Market, and I decided to pencil them into my errands list for Sunday. I found them (just north of 135th off of Antioch), and went in.

There were two men working in the store, and immediately, one of them asked me if I needed any help. I appreciate that, since it’s obvious I’m not there because of my heritage, but I wanted to putter through first and then start asking for help if I couldn’t find anything. I said something to the effect of “Ohhh, I have a list of things, I’m mostly looking now, I need some spices,” as I picked up a jar of tamarind paste. In a flash, the man was at my side.  “The spices are over there,” he said, gesturing to the other side of the narrow store.  “Yes, ok, so if I make Pad Thai and use tamarind paste, could I use this?”

We go back and forth for a couple of minutes. He keep saying the word, “concentrate”, and I understand, I will add water, I am just happy to finally have some tamarind that isn’t loaded with seeds. Suddenly, the other employee is on the other side of me. The watch me study the jar, I smile, I turn to the other side, they turn, we all shuffle down the aisle together.  I felt like a subject in a test study. Except this was actually rather hilarious, so I wasn’t freaked out or worried.  We made some small talk over the many jars of ginger paste (with or without garlic), and then they drifted off again. I found most of what I needed, and returned to the counter.

“Garam Masala? I need it ground, I can only find the bag with whole spices.”

“Yes,  yes, sure.”

“And cous cous?”

Quizzical look. I realize I am mixing up all my cuisines. I walk in here talking about a Thai dish, and now I’m going Mediterranean on their asses.  He looks up at me from his chair and in a higher tone clips, “Cuss cuss?”

“Coooous Cooous, C-O-U-S?”

The two men start talking to each other, one nodding yes, the other shaking his head vehemently. We all bear a striking resemblance now to those alien muppets on Sesame Street. Yip yip yip yip yip….. Then, the other customer, an Indian woman, interrupts them with, “Poppy seeds.”

This has the effect of a flash bang going off. They look at each other, and the one who couldn’t pronounce it, but believed they might have it is now saying, “Poppy seeds! Yes! Poppy Seeds!” and the other guy is shaking his head and looking at both of them like they’re nuts. She continues to say, “It is the same thing. Poppy Seeds.”

My mind is racing. Far be it from me to correct people in their own backyard, but I keep thinking, “grain….. it’s a grain…. I’ve never heard of it coming from….poppies. Opium cous cous?” The Naysayer and I go off to get the spice and check out this twist on cous cous. He kneels, handing me a bag of poppy seeds. We look at each other. He says, “I thought it to be … bigger.” I agree, and while I feel incredible pressure to just buy this bag of poppy seeds, add water & microwave them, I decide, no, I’m not buying this, and hand it back to him.  Good thing, as it seems these are used to thicken curries, from what the internets are telling me. He procured the Garam Masala, already ground, and I check out, completing my visit.

I’m going to make the curried yogurt chicken, with mango mint chutney, tomorrow. No poppy seeds. Nope nope nope nope nope nope……. But I know it will be good, and fun, trying something new… yip yip yip yip yip