On a (sushi) roll

by Navjyoti Dalal

In this new column, Home Is Where The Hearth Is, we shine the spotlight on the immigrant experience. And as a cultural exchange get them to share food recipes they hold dear. This week meet Maxim Olaras from Moldova, the sushi-man of Athlone, who is in awe of the Irish heart and heartland.

When he first landed in Ireland from Moldova, Maxim Olaras was in for a shock, of the good kind. Proficient in Romanian and Russian, Olaras didn't know English, at all. It was natural to feel lost.

"When I went to the Intreo office to begin the process of PPS number I was using just 'yes', 'no' or hand gestures to explain. In response, I was stunned to see how nice and kind the Irish lady was.

She spent an hour explaining everything to me and helping me with my form filing with utmost patience, politeness, and friendly demeanour," says Olaras, who had only intended to spend a short time in Ireland, save some money and return to Moldova. But the warmth of the Irish people (a striking contrast to the weather here) made him stay. In January this year he will turn 12 as an Athlone resident. Olaras's is a story of hope, will and intention to change fate.

A Road From East to West

In 1991, after the fall of USSR, Moldova emerged as an independent nation-state. But what lay ahead for the next few decades was immense struggle.

The economy was in dumps, the minimum wage was less than five euros a month, which would often run into arrears for years due to non-payment. Much of the skilled population had already fled the country. The poor, mostly farmers, were exploited by organ traffickers. There are well documented reports (BBC, Sage Journal, Al Jazeera etc.) of organised crime syndicates luring the poor into selling their kidney for a sum ranging between $2500 to $3000. The 'donors' would be sent on a bus to Istanbul, where they underwent a kidney removal operation, kept under observation for a week, then sent back.

For Olaras, who grew up in Ialoveni town near the capital city, Chisinau, 'the only thought running through your mind would be how to take on more jobs to earn enough'. "It was impossible to survive on one job's income," Olaras recalls the reason which prompted him to take on a journey to the Westernmost country of Europe. His only hope with this move was to experience a lightness, ease and stability in terms of finances.

Finding a Footing

As a child Olaras would often be found in the kitchen, experimenting. At age six he could make dumplings from scratch, for his mother and brother.

Passionate about food, he dropped out of IT and switched to culinary arts in university. He was a trained and qualified chef, but didn't have a language to communicate in, when he landed in Ireland. It made the first few years strugglesome. His first job, at a coffee shop called Togo, was to clean the tables. The next eight years saw him work at Burger King, Hatters Lane, Center Parcs, BusyKids etc. With each work experience his vocabulary and confidence grew, which paved way for intercultural friendships.

Today his friend circle features nationalities as diverse as Irish, Chinese, Latvian, Brazilian, Italian, Russian, Bulgarian, Indian, Ukrainian, and more. In fact, it was his friends who sampled the first batch of sushi, that sowed the seeds of popular restaurant, Umami Sushi.

A Pandemic And A Platter

During the Covid-afflicted lockdown, Olaras was experimenting in the kitchen. "I guess I made a sushi too many, and distributed to friends. The next day I get a call where someone wanted to place a paid order of sushi. I made it, but this time it was a mess. That's when I turned to a Chinese friend (who has a takeaway shop) to help me perfect my sushi skills," says Olaras, who later started a small sushi kiosk at the same takeaway. Around the same time Alastair Gray, director of Village @ Burgess, was headhunting for a quality chef, who could embellish the property with some great food.

This confluence gave birth to Umami Sushi, which Olaras runs with great finesse. Despite a hard first year his Moldovan resilience carried him through, and today the restaurant has a loyal customer base, which lovingly acquired this new taste. "There are many misconceptions around sushi, that it is raw fish etc, but that's a very narrow view.There are many variations, including vegetarian and vegan options apart from cooked fish, chicken etc.," says Olaras. Having established Umami, he is currently working on a shiny new trailer to tantalise the tastebuds of Athlone foodies. One wonders if Moldovan cuisine is on the table. "Not now, maybe in the future. This trailer will solely focus on Greek food which is inherently very healthy, light, and tasty," says Olaras who digs Irish food equally, especially bacon and cabbage.

Recipe

Olaras shares a quintessential Moldovan recipe called Mamaliga cu Friptura. This traditional dish represents Moldova’s spirit, hearty and robust. It comprises cornmeal porridge called mamaliga, with a flavoursome meat stew called friptura. It’s a simple yet satisfying meal that’s been enjoyed for generations.

Ingredients for Mamaliga:

Cornmeal 300gm Water 1.5litre Salt to taste Butter (optional) a small slice For Friptura: Pork (shoulder or neck) 1kg Onion 2-3 chopped Garlic 3-4 cloves crushed Paprika 1tsp Bay leaf 2-3 leaves Black pepper 10-12 berries Salt to taste Oil Hot water 200ml

Instructions: Mamaliga

Bring the water to a boil in a pot. Add salt. Gradually pour in the cornmeal while stirring continuously to avoid lumps. Lower the heat and let it cook, stirring occasionally, until the mixture thickens and the mamaliga pulls away from the sides of the pot

The Mamaliga cu Friptura is a dish that can be dubbed as the national dish of Moldova.

(about 15-20 minutes). Once cooked, transfer to a wooden board or plate. Traditionally, it’s cut using a thin cotton thread, which you slide under the mamaliga and pull up to slice.

Instructions: Friptura

Cut the pork into bite-sized pieces. Sauté onion in oil until softened. Add pork and brown on all sides. Season with paprika, bay leaf, black pepper, and salt. Add water to cover the meat and simmer until tender. Serve the mamaliga with the meat stew. Traditionally, the mamaliga is topped with crumbled sheep cheese, sour cream, or a garlicbased sauce.