Karibu Nairobi

I told you I would return to Kenya. I did, a few weeks ago. In my usual travelling style, my safari to get there was eventful, but that’s another story, luckily though I made it in time for the family wedding.

This time round I was in the East African metropolis of Nairobi. Those of us in Harare complain about traffic, we have nothing to complain about as compared to other capital cities. Nairobi is a huge, bustling city, characterized by traffic of all sorts, matatus, pikipikis/borda-bordas, and most importantly people. You find the same thing in Harare, but there is a different flare in Nairobi (with a population over three million).

The language

In Nairobi just about everyone speaks kiSwahili. By everyone I mean everyone, all the market vendors, (people of different ethnic backgrounds. Not like in Zimbabwe, with our 16 official languages (courtesy of the new constitution) most people speak either Shona or Ndebele or English, not often do you find us speaking all three let alone the 16 which many remain unintelligible. But a real linguae franca- a trade language does not exist. Perhaps I am wrong, consulting socio-linguists about this one may be necessary.

A huge smile plastered on my face, in an attempt to apologize for my lack of language I would answer the Kenyans, in English desperately wanting to throw in my few Swahili words and a few words of sheng (the local slang-that I have learnt from my Kenyan friends and family) or better yet answering back in the similar sounding Shona that I know, Hopefully, by the time I return to East Africa I will be more conversant in this trade language that intersects Arabic and Bantu languages.

The people of Nairobi represent a multitude of ethnic and social backgrounds from across the globe. While walking through a large supermarket with my Kenyan sisters, I tried to heed to my mother’s council of not prying into conversations. It was impossible to not to ignore the English spoken with accents from around the globe, the KiSwahili and not surprisingly Shona conversations.

KiSwahilii, allows the people of the nation from over 40 language groups to understand each other. It is the language of choice during  a marriage ceremony joining up two people from different ethnic groups, building relationships and growing families.

The traffic

The traffic of Nairobi is something that everyone who has been to this East African metropolis will attest to is nothing more than irritating. You spend a considerable amount of time in a jam, no matter how hard you try to outsmart it, something will make the journey longer than you anticipated, perhaps it is the road works, or the traffic police who might be chatting with one of the drivers in a stationary car instead of directing traffic. The road infrastructure, even with the many roundabouts, does not match with the sea of cars, the majority being high clearance ones that are able to navigate through the pot holes.

While the traffic is irritating, there is so much to see, roadside markets and vendors selling tourist curios. The vendors selling everything from fresh cut flowers to adorable puppies. If it all gets to be  too much, there are road side restaurants, and popular eating spots all dotted around the city specializing in local delicacies, offering  meals and snacks at cheap prices. If that doesn't entice you there are fast food chains all over.

And then there are the matatus or mats- minibus taxis, which in all the African cities I have been to, are the same. I might even add the Roman taxi cab drivers also share such a reputation. Their names may be different, from a taxi, a Kombi, Candongera, to Molue the drivers and their conductors exercise their entitlement bestowed on them by apparently us; the paying public who desire to get to our destination in the shortest time possible. In an attempt to please us, the drivers have an unusual disregard for the law, weaving in and out of traffic, committing numerous road traffic violations that constantly go unnoticed and not reprimanded.

The upside to these mats is that you have your standard fare and you have no worry about parking. Parking your car is a costly expense when venturing to the numerous shopping complexes, which surprisingly for me from Southern Africa were full of busy shoppers. And off street parking, if you find it, may not be the safest option. The little I saw of the city center of Nairobi along Moi and Kenyatta Avenues, I think it’s a wise option to be a pedestrian. Not to mention that with the mats you can go to the less attractive areas, the real hidden gems where you really see that Nairobi is a sprawling economic epicenter of East Africa.

The sights and sounds

My sisters and I, weary of being stuck in the weekday traffic headed out of the house in the suburbs at the crack of dawn. Jumped into the mat just outside the gate of the housing complex and began our sleepy journey to Gikomba Market. One of the larger markets in Nairobi, where, if you are a self-proclaimed fashionista on a budget, will consider this market as a bargainer’s  mekka. According to my sister, it is the market where all the nearly-new clothes from abroad come into. Walking through the market you find people like me and my bargain savvy sisters, backpacks in hand, market vendors trying to pick out the better quality garments to buy then clean up and resell for exorbitant prices in other less markets of Nairobi. All this is done while trying to hold on to your backpack stuffed with found treasures and men shouting out to move out of the way as they try to move through the haphazardly ordered aisles, carrying sealed sacksful of clothes.

Exhausted from our bargains, we exited the market, a large one, nothing quite like I've seen in Zimbabwe but the hustle and bustle reminded me of the markets in West Africa. Back onto the matatu, we dropped of in the center of Nairobi and stopped for a much deserved early lunch in a popular take away in Nairobi center. Along the street there were several of them with very familiar menus (things you might find at other take always across the globe), chicken rotisserie style, or fried, hamburgers, hot dogs, and deep fried potato chips- what I was after.

I’m not the biggest fan of deep fried potatoes, but my sister had convinced me that I had to try bhajas, before leaving Kenya, having visited Zimbabwe before they assured me that I wouldn't find anything quite like them in my Southern African home. True to their word, the bhajas were nothing short of delicious, the exact carbohydrate fix that was needed after shopping.

The deep fried potato disks that have been coated in herbs and spices, and the ubiquitous fresh coriander leaves sprinkled on top. The flavours of this street food (and I believe many others that I did not have an opportunity to try) are reflective of the intersection of the people and cultural backgrounds in East Africa. Incorporating flavours from the Indian subcontinent, Near, Middle and Far East, subtly alerting you that the nation is a colourful melange of people, histories and stories.

So there you go, a very quick, and very short story of Nairobi, hardly doing it justice. Perhaps the next celebration in my adopted Kalenjin family will give me another opportunity for a safari through Kenya. If you get there, before me, embrace it all, the language, the people and the traffic. For now, I say asante sana Kenya. 

Restaurant Week

As a gastronome I am always on the search for some interesting food festivals, promotions and all things gastronomic. When Eatout Zimbabwe started their marketing campaign for the 17- 25 May ZOL Restaurant Week  I was sold. A chance to sample 2-3 course meals from a range of US$ 15-25, at reputable upmarket restaurants in Harare- local residents will agree with me that is a steal.

I coerced two gastronomes in the making to join me. We analysed the set menus of the 18 available restaurants made our choice of two of the 18. Due to time constraints we had to settle for one restaurant to visit.

When I saw Chicken Tortellini, Gnocchi Piedmontaise and Panna Cotta on the Emmanuel's menu I was excited. I was hoping that this Northern Italian inspired menu- one which was filled with nostalgia for me- would provide my dining buddies a taste of Northern Italy. My dietary restrictions did not allow me to have this specific menu so I had to rely on my friends’ description of the dishes and their experience against my description from my memories of living in Piedmont.

Friday evening we found ourselves at the said restaurant. After a long week, the only thing we anticipated was a wonderful evening together at this fine dining establishment. I have learned not to presume too much about restaurants in Harare as I have had some disappointments to my palette and endured some poor service, so making sure you have good company allows you to overlook some of these undesirable shortcomings.

We were pleasantly surprised when we were cheerfully greeted at the entrance and promptly seated at our reserved table. A welcoming ambiance of well laid tables, dimmed lights was accentuated by infectious laughter coming from the several tables filled with what looked like groups of friends enjoying an evening out together. With such merriment, the barely audible, guitar playing musician, was eventually heard once the patrons were temporally silenced by their food.

Drinks ordered, we were ready to begin our meal. Our smartly dressed waiter came round and offered us a single piece of bread. That confused me since my experience of dining in Italy is the ubiquitous bounty of bread and wine, more so, our little table for three had a dish full of creamy petite butter balls waiting to be spread on several pieces of bread. I chose the not- so-focaccia like-rosemary topped focaccia. My slender piece was void of the olive oil, salt and other herbs that I guessed would be there.  To appease us, perhaps for the lack of bread, we were given a complimentary chicken roulande- a thick piece of cooked chicken breast fillet, compressed into a roll and stuffed with minutely shredded vegetables. 

Complimentary plates over, we began our three course meal.

My knowledge of tortellini is: minute pasta parcels, made from an egg- rich dough, stuffed with rich ingredients that take a painstakingly long time to make, hence reserved for special occasions and often served as a handful in a rich broth. Two large flat plates came with an entrée of three large tortellini stuffed with chicken garnished with crayfish tails. The stated broth of pea and mint appeared more like a sauce. Nonetheless, my dining companions cleared their plates. As the menu had read, my grand bowl of butternut soup had a chilly kick to it although I struggled to find the advertised croutons in the bowl of soup. I guess they were hidden in the layers of rich flavour that characterised the soup.

Our empty plates were swiftly taken away replaced by appropriate cutlery. My fish knife to my right I was ready for my sea bass. Yes, ordering fish in a landlocked country is not the smartest idea as you know that the fish would have traveled a long distance before it gets to your plate. However, against better judgment I still ordered it. It was pleasant, light, flavourful and complemented by a leek puree and sweet sun dried tomatoes. 

With slight hesitation, my curious gastronome friend ordered duck. Having never eaten this type of poultry before, she had a welcome surprise. The duck leg and breast were well cooked, and had a rich umami taste which she described as a cross between chicken and pork. I had a smidgeon of hers; it was, dare I say delicious.

The Gnocchi Piedmontese was possibly inspired by the Northern Italian region. I will give the chefs a leeway and say that they had artistic liberty to interpret this simple Italian dish as they pleased and transform it into fine dining, heavily laden with garnishes and aesthetic interpretations. The gnocchi around the plate looked as if they could have been served in a deep bowl that would allow the potato dumplings to soak up a rich sauce.

Dessert did not disappoint. Three types of dessert served on a large white plate. Panna Cotta, literally cooked cream is a rich northern Italian dolce- dessert. Rich fresh cream is simmered together with milk and sugar sometimes infused with some vanilla and left to set. Often served with a coulis, or sauce of some sort to compliment and lessen the heaviness of the rich cream. Our panna cotta was well set, with a slight little wiggle to it but topped with an out of season strawberry. In line with seasonal cooking I would have expected some winter citrus flavours. But I wont hold that against them, since I enjoyed the panna cotta. The large white plate had a square of sticky date pudding that complimented the panna cotta. To finish off; a refreshing passion fruit sorbet to compliment the richness of the other components.

Although we were beyond satiated, we found room for a cup of espresso to aid digestion. It was necessary lest it would have been almost impossible to drive home. The last gulp down and then the meal was finally over.

The panna cotta temporarily cured my nostalgia for Italy. I might be a certified gastronome but my education has not come to an end. The Italian inspired dishes opened my eyes to artistic interpretations and creativity. The chefs embraced their artistic licence: veering away from the traditional interpretations and creating dishes in a manner that some might frown upon, and question but somehow still appreciate.

My compliments to Emmanuel’s as it was an evening of laughter, excellent service- the best I've had in Harare so far. 

Of Carrots and Oranges

I've had a long hiatus from blogging.  But I’m back, as a certified gastronome.

That just means I know a lot more about food than I did a year ago. My palate has adapted if not evolved, I've come to like and even appreciate flavours that I once despised.

Growing up, not having the desired 20/20 vision, my mother always insisted that I eat my carrots. I needed my extra dose of Vitamin A. Seldom would I eat them without complaining; pushing them to the furthest part of my dinner plate, secretly hoping they would they fall off, land on the floor and be deemed inedible. I found them to be bitter, apparently over cooked, bland.

I used to completely agree with Fran Lebowitz:

Large, naked, raw carrots are acceptable as food only to those who live in hutches eagerly awaiting Easter. -Metropolitan Life 1978

So you can imagine the slight surprise that my mother had when she found me happily munching away to raw carrot sticks. They weren't so bad considering that they were accompanied by a chickpea hummus.

Now I know that they are more flavourful when in season, and I've discovered more flavourful ways of getting my vitamin A and incorporating them into everything.  My newest discovery are these carrot-orange muffins.

I’m looking forward to making these beta-carotene filled treats this winter season.

Carrot-Orange Muffins

Yield: 12 large muffins

½ cup whole wheat flour

½ cup all-purpose flour

½ cup quick-cooking rolled oats

½  cup plus 2 Tablespoons brown sugar

1  teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon dried ground ginger 

1 teaspoon baking powder

½  teaspoon baking soda

¼  teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon zest of orange

¼ cup fresh orange juice

3 Tablespoons plain yogurt

½ cup milk, mixed with vinegar

1 teaspoon vinegar

¼  cup vegetable oil

1 ½  cups finely grated carrots (approximately 3 carrots)

Handful of pumpkin seeds

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 375F/ 180C . Lightly grease a 12-hole muffin tin and line with 12 squares of baking paper. Push the squares down into each hole so that the paper sticks up. .

2. Mix dry ingredients together in a bowl, leaving 2 Tablespoons of brown sugar. In a separate bowl mix together the wet ingredients.

3. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and fold the ingredients together, but be careful not to over-work the mixture.  If batter is too dry slowly add in a bit more milk

3. Spoon the batter into muffin tin. Sprinkle pumpkin seeds and remaining brown sugar over muffins.

4. Bake in the centre of the oven for 30-35 minutes, or until the muffins are well risen and a skewer inserted in the centre comes out clean.

5. Cool a few minutes

Enjoy.