I had boned Masai goat yesterday for lunch; it was cooked up tender and succulent in a stew and was delicious. It seems that the goat curry for dinner was a bit on the tough side, so, once again, I made a good decision.
I have discovered that soup figures prominently on menus at the places we have been staying. From the chilled avocado soup at our first stop to the cream of aubergine we had at lunch yesterday and the light cream of french bean of last night, they have been the best soups I have ever tasted. Campbells should come over here and take some notes. I am aware, however, that the flavors of the soups have been greatly enhanced by the locations and the company in which they have been eaten. If I ever try to make a cream of aubergine soup, it won’t be the same without the accompanying view over Lake Manyara in the Rift Valley.
The one morsel of grilled parrot fish that I managed to spear off of Michael’s plate is the best bite of fish I have ever eaten. I don’t think I’ll be finding that in my fishmonger’s case anytime soon. One of my traveling companions, a beautiful girl of 13, has had fish every time it has appeared on the menu, from parrot fish to Nile perch to red snapper to essence of fish soup to who can remember what else, agrees that the parrot fish takes the taste prize.
Even the much maligned lunch (and breakfast) boxes have managed to have at least one item that was relatively tasty. I have suggested to the powers that be that the boxed meals would be greatly improved by the addition of an ice cream bar; I don’t think the suggestion was taken seriously. But, just in case it was, make mine a Magnum Double Caramel.
The only problem with the taste category is that there has been too much to taste and not enough physical activity to go along with it.