Forget military power or economic reach. Forget ideas and ideology. The real global contest for power is over our tastebuds. There is no more essential human function as eating, and how, what, and where we eat is what guides human behaviour with greater force than any state, corporation, or political party.
In this global culinary contest there are two superpowers – India and Thailand. As wherever you go in the world – no matter how obscure the location – there tends to always be Indian or Thai restaurants.
There was a great joke I heard around the time India’s space programme launched the Chandrayaan-3 probe to the Moon. It went:
India’s space programme launched a probe to the south pole of Moon, and when it landed and began scanning the terrain it discovered that there was already a Punjabi dhaba there.
Maybe this was more of a joke about Punjabis than food, but it highlighted an important point about how when people fan out across the world – or off-world – it is cuisine that plays the central role in this movement. For Indians and Thais – having triumphed as culinary artists – local food simply cannot compare. The need to establish their own restaurants, regardless of where they are, is essential.
And it is essential they do so for me too. This global competition for culinary supremacy happens to coincide with my two favourite cuisines. Were I to be bound to just two countries’ food for eternity then it would be no contest as to which two I would choose. Indian food especially has such regional variety that it would be impossible to ever get bored.
Despite spending the last 5 years living half my year in Europe, I am completely disinterested in the local cuisine. This is particularly the case in Sweden – the white sauce capital of the world (both literally and metaphorically). The great paradox of the Nordic countries collectively is their impeccable eye for sophisticated design and style, coupled a palate that is, let’s just say, less discerning.
This is a problem because not only is my palate located firmly in the Indo-Pacific, I also need my food hot. And the Scandinavians do not generally like spice. As a rather restrained (or, some may say, repressed) man, the only feeling I allow myself to experience is mouth-burning and eye-watering spiciness. It is how I convince myself that I am alive.
This need for heat has me constantly seeking out Thai and Indian restaurants whenever I arrive in a new place. This has led to some surprising discoveries –whether it be truly great Thai noodles soups in Reykjavik, a fantastic Punjabi restaurant deep within the Arctic Circle in Tromsø, and the surprising find of an amazing Tamil restaurant in Riga. Although this approach has also led me to a truly dreadful Indian restaurant in Warsaw. There’s always a game of chance involved.
I am currently in the Åland Islands – an archipelago halfway between Finland and Sweden, staying in its capital of Mariehamn, a town of about 12,000 people. I had limited hope of finding Thai or Indian cuisine here, but it seems no place is too small or remote to be overlooked in this global culinary influence operation, and there is one Thai restaurant. The Indians have been outplayed this time. Although it seems that historically there was an Indian restaurant here.
However, to call this Thai place a restaurant may be stretch. Also, it’s name – Thai Street Food – was also misleading. It was one auntie cooking out of conventional domestic kitchen installed in a utilitarian manner in a shop that was clearly not a restaurant beforehand. With electric stove, a small portable deeper fryer, a retail rice cooker, and a household fridge to pull out ingredients, she was a one person show, taking orders while cooking simultaneously.
Which, given the locale, was better than I could have reasonably expected. I absolutely do not need anything fancy. I don’t go to restaurants for the décor or ambiance. The only experience I want is the fine line between pleasure and pain that comes from spicy food.
Which in the Nordic countries requires you to ask for your food very hot. Medium means spiceless, hot means medium, and very hot means something that you can actually feel.
Despite this, the food wasn’t great. In the global contest for global culinary supremacy, the Thais aren’t wasting their best chefs on tiny markets like Åland. Having a footprint here is a win, but given the much smaller human capital of Thailand compared to India, the Thais have to be more strategic about where they place their most skilled cooks.