Cooking can be tricky if you don’t have a stove.
Add in no running water and no counter space, and things can really get tricky.
My first few days in Namaacha, I let my host mother, Mariana, make my meals for me. She liked to ask me if I knew what a cucumber was or if we ate rice in the US. She was appalled to hear I liked my coffee black (though I should add hear that I am using the word coffee loosely; we only have Nestcafe, which does not even come close to me as counting as a real cup of coffee).
One morning, I asked if I could help her prepare the beans for dinner. Feijoes (beans) is my favorite meal Mariana makes. She is very respectful of my vegetarianism but loves giving me cooked vegetables smothered in oil and served with fried fish and rice; appetizing once or maybe twice a day, a serious stomach ache twice a day for a week. Feijoes, however, is simply red beans, green peppers, tomatoes, and onions. And Mariana makes the best in town.
Mariana agreed to let me help if I got back from school in time. After class, I ran home and sat at the table with her and Helena (Marian’s sister), and prepared the vegetables.
If you have ever cooked with me before, you might know that I have a particularly emotional reaction to cutting onions. My tears were apparently hilarious to Mariana, who saw me crying as I diced the onions and could not stop laughing. I cried my way through the onion and moved on to the tomato.
As an American guest in a Mozambiquan home, I have learned that I do not know how to do a lot of things that I once thought I knew. Mariana is always skeptical when I say I can do something “sozinha” (without help). The first day she doubted I could bathe alone, and when I came out with clean hair, she was totally impressed.
Before last week, I apparently did not know how to cut tomatoes.
When I started cutting the tomato, I began cutting it as I would have at home. Mariana reminded me to peel it first. Never having peeled a tomato, this sent her into yet another fit of laughter until she took another tomato and took the skin off in a seemingly effortless second.
Then, rather than cutting the tomatoes with the other vegetables, we cut them right into the pot. This is one of the best ideas ever. I always hated how after cutting tomatoes my cutting board was all tomato-y. What’s more, you loose all that tomato goodness. If you cut the tomato right into the pot, you get a great little pre-sauce to sauté the onions and peppers in. I was totally impressed.
Maybe I should have let her show me how to bathe.
Anyway, after cutting and sautéing the veggies, I added the soaked beans and sat by the fire with Angelina, Mariana’s 15 year old daughter. I think Dena can attest to the fact that I am pretty good at embarrassing my younger sisters, but only in the nicest ways. I really love introducing people to Angelina as my sister. When they look at me funny, I always ask them if we look alike and she always giggles and runs away.
After I had stirred the beans enough to Angelina’s liking, I served up the beans for myself, Mariana, and Vavo (the grandmother of the house). Vavo does not speak Portuguese, but she did not have to do more than smile after I served her plate for me to know I had succeeded.
Later, Mariana asked me if I had ever cooked before. She was surprised when I said that I loved to cook, but then told me that I could cook beans for her any day.
