Let's eat!

Mom and I got stupidly excited when we saw the bottle of Heinz 57 on the table at the new cafe in town.

Arusha, Tanzania, is not known for its fine dining. People don't land here and say, "Driver, take me to the best spot in town for Ethiopian cuisine." There is a place for Ethiopian food, but like many restaurants in town, it never seems to be open, or perhaps it never has customers. Another African mystery.

A lot of restaurants in town try to be all things to all people. There is a restaurant that boasts of its fine Italian, Mexican and Indian dishes. One place insists it has Japanese, Thai and traditional African food. The menus at these global places require two hands to heft. It's mind boggling seeing pad Thai alongside fettucine alfredo and palak paneer. If you ask what is good or which style of cuisine reigns supreme in that kitchen, in the hope of narrowing down your choices to something reasonable, you are told that everything is good. Well, most things are merely OK, but we have found a few favorites, including an eatery that has a nice spinach pizza that is listed in the menu as "green pizz."

The Heinz 57 we found at the new spot, which has quickly become our go-to place when we need to satisfy our french fry or veggie burger or quiche fix. I never thought I would miss something as mundane as real ketchup. Until now we had been haunted by this runny substance known as tomato sauce, which is what Tanzanians use for ketchup. This is unacceptable, for how can one dredge a fry in a runny tomato product? It ain't right. We worship at the altar of the Heinz bottle.

As for traditional African food, we have eaten a nice local dish that is made of beans, rice and something that seems to be spinach. It is fairly bland, but with liberal amounts of pili pili (a hot sauce), we are happy. Another popular local dish is ugali, which I do not recommend unless one enjoys wallpaper paste. It has the consistency of porridge, but none of the charm. To eat ugali properly, one must grab a handful of the colorless substance, stick some beans or rice or other food into the center and then form a ball out of all of it. Then it's devoured. It's like playing with one's food, and it's rather gross. My fiance and his friends are aghast that mom and I don't fancy ugali. They also find it odd that I am troubled by eating a whole fish, complete with head and glassy eyes and bones. I feel like apologizing to the fish for what has happened to him. I don't want anything I'm eating to have a face. I feel better when I can pretend that the meat arrived cut up and pretty and violence-free on my table.

We are having our wedding party at a colorful restaurant just outside of town, in Massai territory. Because it's not far from the parks, the lodge serves game meat. I was dubious at first, but antelope and other critters are plentiful and can be hunted legally. This violated my rule against eating animals that I think are cool or pretty or interesting, but I figured, when in Rome. ... So I dived into some eland, which is a large antelope creature. It was delicious and, yes, it tasted a bit like chicken. I don't think I can bring myself to eat zebra, though. They are too much like horses and would remind me of "My Friend Flicka" while chowing down.

As for our home cooking, we have a device that is essentially a toaster oven with two burners on top. Cooking is difficult because we don't have enough electricity to have a light, the fridge and the stove on at the same time. Even with the lights off and fridge turned down, the stove takes about 25 minutes to warm up. If we want something heated up quickly, we fire up the kerosene stove, which is like a crude camp stove. There is no controlling the flames and it smells awful, but it does the job. It also blackens the bottom of all our pans. Good thing I left the Calphalon at home.