Francophone Food

Although I’ve been largely food adverse over the last couple of months, my ability to eat more than peanut butter has improved since leaving for Senegal. The nausea unfortunately remains, but at least I can get some food in me.

It’s no secret that Francophone West Africa kicks Anglophile anywhere Africa's butt in the food department. I have been impressed that the tiny little Goree Island I’m staying on, off the coast of Dakar in Senegal, holds its culinary own. A boulangerie exists in what would be a mobile phone airtime kiosk in Uganda. Just like in Paris, the Senegalese Islanders line up in the morning and walk away with fresh baguette tucked under their arms. For each meal I’ve had, a caramelized onion sauce has accompanied the main course of chicken or fish or shrimp. With the assistance of the Mali Chief of Party I reversed engineered it: onions reduced in chicken broth with lime and mustard. Delicious and simple.

Coffee breaks in Uganda consist of lumps of cake, not unlike sweetened concrete. Swallowing the cake is tantamount to scrapping putty from an old pipe, and then it sinks into your stomach like lead. Here in Senegal at the Goree Institute, we were served onion tarts and Petit Fours. They were exquisite.

The African staple, cassava, is served countless ways here and dare I say some of them are tasty. For lunch we were given fermented cassava that had the look and consistency of cous cous with a taste not unlike sourdough bread. Topped with the caramelized onion sauce, it was delish.