Taste of Heaven

They say that in heaven all tribes and tongues will be there. I wonder what we will eat. Revelation mentions fruit, but doesn't it seem likely that if the skin color persists into heaven, some of the taste buds might too?

Who knows.

As I have engaged on this 180 day sabbatical, the resolution to seek out 15 new tastes has been significant on several levels. There is something about seeking out countries that are strange to me and receiving something of that country into my mouth, my stomach, my body. I generally play it safe when it comes to food. Easily in the top five traumas of my childhood was the constant effort to eat all my food no matter what was served. It was an unshakable rule in our house, and I knew I was pretty bad at it. More than once I sat at the table in a sort of purgatory, not being allowed to leave until I ate all of what was served.

Whether that trauma in the end actually made me a better person or not is anyone's guess, but I know it has been a stretching and fun experience to deliberately seek out and eat unusual foods. I feel like a child who was traumatized by water as a child finally jumping into a pool as an adult. Part exhilaration, part fear, part grateful that I don't have fear, and part warm feeling of solidarity with millions of people I have never met.

So let's see. We have done Brazilian -- that was a safe start and smooth ride. Then Pakistani -- that was another safe bet. I love Middle Eastern/Indian food in general, so I figured it must be close to those and it was. Next up was the Yemeni tea shop. It was a bit of an acquired taste, but overall, something I might repeat. The pastry was sort of like baklava without the flavor, and the coffee was like espresso -- definitely a strong 4 if not 5

stars.

Finding places that qualify has been a bit harder than expected, but tonight I was able to get two and a half for the price of one. I went to the iconic Queens Night Market. I could have had probably 10 new tastes if I had been hungry enough. What first caught my eye was some "authentic Tibetan dumplings." If you quibble about whether Tibet should be counted as part of China, you have something in common with millions of people in the region. I will not try to solve that dispute here. It's my challenge and I make the rules, so I am counting it as its own thing toward my goal of fifteen. The dumpling wrap was thicker than the Chinese ones I have eaten, but it tasted somewhat similar. The sauces were definitely unique. I grabbed three dumplings and since there were three sauces, I put a different dab on each one. The spicy one was a bit much for my docile taste buds, and the second looked and tasted mostly like soy sauce, but the third was on point, a ni,ce flavorful mix of herbs and mild peppers, I suppose.

Next up, I tried food from Kazakhstan. The guy in front of me got into some banter with the lady at the counter. Clearly he had been to Kazakhstan at some point in his life, and finding this booth appeared to conjure, up warm feelings. When he finally wrapped up his chit chat and selfie video, I asked for something on the menu that looked good, a samsa -- maybe a pastry with meat inside? I didn't have the right increment of cash bills, so rather than complicate things, I added the shorpa to my order. It was a slightly more adventurous choice, but turned out to be the biggest surprise of the night. It was a deeply flavorful and satisfying soup -- reminded me a little of moose stew from my childhood. The soup and chill of the October evening took me back to Canada.

Feeling quite satisfied, I took in more of the vibrant sounds and colors of the Queens Night Market and regretted that it was the last night of the season. Visits here definitely need to be a tradition each Summer. With probably 50 or so vendors, mostly from different countries, it is a feast for the senses.

I was lured into one more choice, fried ice cream. What could be more American! It was delightful nonetheless and just as decadent as it sounds.

Though it was tasty, I regretted its impact on my belly, so I hunted up a tea spot I had seen earlier. This final choice is what counts as the "half." It was Moringa tea from a booth advertising "Authentic African/Western Superfoods." Not sure which side of the slash Moringa comes from, but I never heard of it before, so I gave it a try. Not bad, I felt warmer and healthier in just a few moments.

Fortunately, at this market, they had some live performers and this little band of soul singers was leaving it all out there. So cool when I see teenagers perfecting their craft and showing their talents. I caught a bit of "Stand by Me."

As I stood there sipping my tea, I was touched with gratitude. What an honor and a privilege it was to stand there with every tribe and nation. It's not what the pictures looked like in the Bible story books, but I would say it definitely was a taste of heaven.