French Dinner

July 27th, 2009

Sophie and Vanessa have decided that they are going to cook for the family for a night and I am quite excited to have some different food. The food here is good, and there is always a lot of it. My family always has some sort of salad with the main meal, which is excellent. There are a few downsides though. First there is rehydrated fish, in almost everything. Sometimes when the first isn’t in something they use fish oil to make it, which makes it end up tasting like fish anyway. And there is oil in everything except for the bread.

So I am really excited for dinner tonight. I am not sure what they have made, but I trust that it is going to be tasty. Dinner time is almost here and they gather everyone together to have drinks and a snack. Some sort of explanation accompanies this, from what I understand they say this happens before every meal in France. Everyone in the family is invited, which now puts us up to eleven people (four in the family, the two French people, the two boarders, the servant girl, a neighbor and me). It is a little difficult to fit around one table, but we manage. Drinks are served – Fanta for the kids and beer for the adults. Faniel starts to cry. He wants beer. Sophie tells him that tonight we are in France and in France three year olds don’t drink beer. It doesn’t help much. His mom says something sharp to him in Mooré and he settles down.

Next the crackers come out. They taste almost as good as Ritz crackers from the states. They are delicious. Faniel picks through each one, only taking those which meet his standard of roundness. I silently wonder where his hands have been today but don’t say anything as there is nothing that can be done now.

Dinner is brought out, a giant pot of plain, beautiful, non-oily, white rice and another pot that contains a cream-based mushroom sauce with meat and onions. After everyone is served I take a bite. It tastes delicious. After finishing my second bowl I take a look around the table at unfinished plates, everywhere. Even Faniel, who usually eats almost as much as I do hasn’t had but a few bites from his plate. My mom asks the servant girl to break out the Tô.

Tô tastes very similar to Cream of Wheat, but blander if you can imagine that. It is the stable food of Burkina. Tô is served piping hot with an equally hot sauce, which is usually made of different leafy vegetables or leaves of trees or bushes. Not quite a food you’d expect to find in the US, but after trying it ten or so times, it isn’t so bad.

I look at my mom’s discomfort and can’t help but remember the many times in the past month I must have looked exactly the same. Oh how the tables have turned.

By the end of the diner I have eaten four plates and am absolutely stuffed. It has been decided that I will have to cook for the family in a week. I am looking forward to it. American food! I hope it turns out.