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Dreaming Mustard

I was chatting with my friend D (who is also Bengali) about fish we love versus fish that is available to us where we live. The mullet turned out to be something we both had easy access to. Back in Kolkata, it would not be our first choice of fish but it feels like a treat now where the other options are even less inspiring. We both have frozen hilsa in the fridge to cook on occasion. The whole conversation about fish made me think how we build adaptations around taste we developed from childhood and where we find ourselves in terms of access to those tastes. 

Every expat has their unique story of adaptation. It could be oatmeal dosa, scrambled tofu made in the style of egg bhurji, sandesh with ricotta cheese and so on. After we got off the phone, D sent me this link with a message "maybe rethink the mullet?". It made me smile to think of the unforeseen potential consequences of cooking mullet with mustard paste as I like to do sometimes - trying to dress up a fish that I grew up considering quite pedestrian. Turns out that it can do a lot more than taste of mustard. 

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