Monday, July 10, 2006

Cheb e jen or maaro and liddi

Lots of people have been asking me about the food here, so I figured I ought to devote an entry to Senegalese cuisine.

For breakfast every morning, my family gives me some coffee and bread. I should explain that Senegalese coffee consists of a hot cup of milk, two or three giant tablespoons of sugar, and maybe a teaspoonful of Nescafe instant coffee. Given that I don't really drink coffee at home, but adore both milk and sugar, this is pretty much perfect for me. The bread is kind of like freshly baked French bread, wonderfully soft and filling and sometimes still warm from the bread maker's, but a little denser than a typical loaf of French bread. Breakfast is generally a leisurely affair.

Lunch is the most important Senegalese meal, by which I mean in poorer villages, it might be the only meal- during the hungry season (dry season), at least. Fortunately, my town is on the road and has access to lots of amenities smaller villages don't have, such as vegetables to buy and sell in the market. My family is also fairly well off, relatively speaking, so I always eat well. I almost always eat cheb e jen (no idea how that's spelled), as it is known throughout Senegal or maaro e liddi, which is the Pulaar translation of the Wolof cheb e jen. Directly translated, it means rice and fish, which doesn't sound nearly as interesting as it actually is.

Maaro e liddi consists of, well, rice and fish (the rice generally seasoned with something that resembles tomato paste and cooked with oil), and may include a piece of squash, casava, something which is kind of like a potato that I don't know the word for in English, only a little smoother and sweeter, eggplant, bitter eggplant, half a cabbage, and a carrot. Hopefully I'm not forgetting anything.

I usually eat lunch with my brother (in my family in Thies, I ate with the women and kids, and my dad ate separately, as respected members of the household get priority in terms of the best food), or if he's not around, one of my sisters might come eat with me. The meal is served in a huge bowl (we use spoons, but most everyone eats with their hand- their right hand only; the left hand is the bathroom hand, so it's pretty much horribly rude to reach for anything with your left hand), with the fish in the middle, and the vegetables arranged around it over the rice. Other things to remember about Senegalese bowl manners are not to reach across the bowl for something you want, but to ask someone to pass it to you, and if there is something in front of you, to either move it so the other person can reach it or to cut some of it off and put it in front of your bowlmate(s). My brother, for example, is always depositing bites of fish and cabbage in front of me and ordering me to eat. That's another big thing- urging people to eat, especially guests. Even when I have eaten half the bowl, which would normally feed about six Senegalese people, he's always admonishing me, 'Eat! You didn't eat anything.' Along the same lines, if someone comes to your house while you're eating, you always, always invite them to join you. They probably won't take you up on it, but you have to ask. Also, if you're visiting someone's house, even if you only stopped by for two minutes, and you try to say good-bye, they'll always make a fuss, saying, 'Don't go! Wait for lunch.' This even if it's ten o clock in the morning (Lunch is usually served around two pm).

Dinner doesn't happen until about nine o clock at my house. Again, I eat with my brother, sometimes one of my sisters. A lot of the time we eat left over maaro e liddi, but sometimes we have mafe (again, no idea how to spell that. It's pronounced mah-fay), rice with a wonderfully rich dark brown peanut sauce; niri, rice with a milder subtler peanut sauce, sometimes served with oil and fish; or once in awhile we have omelettes, which are really exciting, but don't really resemble omelettes in the States. I like them because my sister makes the eggs with a savory tomato paste and a ton of onions. However, I can't gorge myself as much as I'd like to, because they're pretty greasy, and if I go crazy with the eggs I feel like I have a vat of oil sitting in my stomach. Another meal which I really like I don't know the name for, but has that same tomato-ey sauce, with tons of onions and potatoes cut up like french fries.

Another main staple is lechiri and haako, which is basically finely ground millet and a kind of leafy green sauce. I'm not the biggest fan of haako, as ground millet tastes like sand to me, but the sauce is not bad, and lots of volunteers tell me haako is their favorite meal. I don't eat it too often because my family knows I don't like it, but it's something that most everyone else eats quite frequently.

For special occasions, such as baptisms and weddings, people usually prepare plates and plates of what essentially is macaroni and meat cooked in oil. It doesn't sound that good when I describe it like that, but actually it's quite tasty- very salty, which I like. Meat of any kind is a delicacy here, as it's expensive by Senegalese standards. Chicken, too, is expensive, which is a shame because possibly my favorite Senegalese dish of all is yassa poulet, which is rice or noodles with chicken and a delicious onion sauce.

Things I've eaten as snacks include mangos, lechiri and kosam (millet with milk and sugar), goos (rice with milk and sugar, but a milder taste than lechiri and kosam- I love goos, but usually only eat it when I'm visiting someone).

Well, I don't feel like I've done the delicious nature of Senegalese cuisine justice with my description, but hopefully this gives you some idea of what people eat most of the time. Dolen e jam (May we digest in peace).