A bit more on meals in Kenya

I think Lisa (my sister, who has trained at one of the culinary schools in NYC, is a foodie, and with whom I enjoyed a wonderful gastronomic tour of Barcelona) would be horrified by some of the food I’ve been eating. Some of it has been good. The hotel "chef" in Embu took good care of me. I had some pretty good curry sauce there, although I’ve never had such tough chicken. I really hate having to fight with my food, but that’s what seems to be the norm more often than not. A few times I’ve been pleasantly surprised by chicken that is actually tender, but most of the time, they seem to really overcook the chicken here or their chickens produce really tough meat or both. ?? And most seem to offer it only either boiled or “stewed.” [sigh]

Of course, most Kenyans would rather be eating beef and maybe goat, but thanks to Rift Valley, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, they’re being denied their usual cuisine. I only hope that I’ll get a chance to see and taste the true Kenyan cuisine, nyama choma, before I leave. In the meantime, I, like the Kenyans, am getting a bit tired of constant chicken. God forbid avian flu ever hits here though.

Margarine seems to be very popular, at least in rural areas, as opposed to butter. I’m not sure why they don’t serve butter, but only margarine seems to be served with your toast. And, I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re using to cook everything, especially the vegetables (like sauteed kale, cabbage, carrots, etc.), as it’s a pretty distinct flavor and the sauteed veggies taste pretty soaked in it.

French fries are also a popular starch staple other than the traditional ugali, and it's usually topped with ketchup that looks like it has a bit of a pinkish hue to it or some chili sauce. I usually opt for rice, which fortunately is another alternative available here.

I’ve been eating mostly at my hotel restaurants (not much option at night for a single female traveler in rural areas), and except the others, the one in Mwingi leaves a lot to be desired. When I traveled in Viet Nam, I tolerated finding a long hair in my noodles. In Mwingi, I’ve had to tolerate finding a hair as well as the other night, dead ants in the stewed chicken. Blegh. Oh well. Extra protein, I suppose.

I’m looking forward to some better eats in Nairobi.