I love African food. And by
African food, I mean dibi, thiéboudienne, thiébouyapp, yassa, pastels. My
starch of choice is couscous, or potatoes. In short, I should be living
in Senegal. But I'm not. I'm in a country where when I tell people
that I don't eat white rice, cassava (in all its myriad forms), or sweet
potatoes, they look at me like I have two heads and ask what I do
eat. In Abidjan, the shortest answer to that question is chicken.
Basically, I eat "poulet braisé" and "poulet frit". And
that's about it.
One of the many "poulet" dishes I've had in Abidjan |
But that can get old (I know I have)
you can stick to Ivorian fare and move on to fish, or you can try your luck
with foreign cuisines and imported foods. I went with the latter and
ended up having lunch at Paul today in Zone 4. It was good. Really good. I had a quiche Lorraine and felt confident
enough to eat the salad, the raspberry tart was perfect and I realized how much
I missed western food. My lunch buddy had a sandwich and 2 coffees. Altogether our bill was 16 000 Francs.
Even though I am writing this hours
later, I realize how much food affects my state of mind. The foods I naturally gravitate towards do
not grow here and are imported. They are
expensive, and would kill any reasonable persons’ budget. I am going to have to
find some kind of happy medium, between the affordability of local foods, and
the splurge of imported ones.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please feel free to comment