what’s to drink
Somali tea, reminiscent of chai. Prepared with milk and spices, and served in a teapot.
All posts tagged: East Africa
on independence
Perhaps the most enthusiastic Independence Days are celebrated by nations that go unrecognized.
what’s to eat #32
An al fresco, late morning, working breakfast at the Royal café outside Hargeisa: Fresh orange juice, a latté, and a funky, pre-frozen waffle. And for an update on what I didn’t have for breakfast …
on top chef, somaliland
The ceremony began late evening, after guests were welcomed to the courtyard of the college. Friends, family, loved ones and supporters of this very first graduating class were excited to see their new skills put to the test. Even the Somaliland Minister of Education was in attendance, and full of pride. And after… ahem… a rather extended introduction from esteemed guests and college figures, interrupted only briefly for the maghrib prayer, the new graduates, led by their beloved instructors, made the way to their ceremonious spots. Who are these graduates, you ask ? Mostly Somali or Somalilanders, mostly women, with all manner of spectacular goals, from opening their own restaurants, to establishing their own culinary non-profits, to feeding their luckiest of families. Once the ceremony was completed, and degrees and certificates distributed, the real challenge got underway. as night fell, and while onlookers and guests salivated, dish after delicious dish appeared on tables set before the judges, looking their best for the ultimate taste test. Guests oohed … and aahed … and loaded up Hargeisa’s digital social networks with image upon …
what’s to eat #31
A lunch of spicy, ground beef sauce with potatoes, carrots, and hot green peppers over spaghetti. Garnish of french fries ! Eaten on the front porch, outside Hargeisa, Somaliland.
on a last look
Bamako: city of dust, city of bougainvillea. The friends who turn out to be heroes; The ones we break bread with who nourish our own hearts; The colleagues who become family; The neighbors who anchor our days; The greetings that never end; The showers that bring relief, both from dirt and sweat as well as from anxiety over the season’s harvest; The mornings that stun you into submission; The village chiefs whose class and style are unmatched; The history that keeps you guessing; The magic around every corner. After two years in Bamako, i’ve said (a long, rather drawn-out) farewell. Hopeful to be back soon and see an old friend with fresh eyes. Until then, starting over again somewhere new: [View of Hargeisa, Somaliland]
outerNotes 