Another Food Thought...

I feel totally justified in writing another blog post about food, especially so soon after my run-in with the super duper hot sauce du jour. Why? Because, I feel like I need to redeem the food industry here in Rwanda. And also, some of the food really is good. That should be read, the produce. So, let's ccall this my current ode to the fresh food of Rwanda.



(Sung to the tune of "Oh Where oh where has my doggie gone")
OOooohhhhhhhhhhh!
Onions! Ooohhhhh onions!
How you taste so good?!
Oh hooow oh hooow can it be??
With a sweet, tangy crisp,
And a faint onion bite.
Oh hooowww oh hoow can it be?!?!

Seriously, though. I read before I came to Rwanda that the onions were so good you could eat them like an apple. I didn't believe them, until now. They have some kind of apple texture, but you don't want to get your tongue pulled out for putting it in your mouth!

And the tomatoes are smaller, but more full of flavor. They aren't pumped with water, like those from the states. Small, and full of a good, non-toxic tasting flavor. The sweet potatoes here are white, and have a bit more of a sweet taste to them. They don't taste as starchy. The bananas are half the size, but actually taste like something! Whereas bananas will often have a taste like cardboard in the states, with a hint of flavor, these puppies are so small they have to pack a punch in flavor. And they do.

I feel like I've only now begun to taste produce fully!

I am writing this in the hotel across the street from my house. My housemates are gone, and I'm currently locked out of the house. Neither of them said when exactly they'd be home. It's getting darker out, so I am cautious about going out alone. Sooo I'm sitting around putzing around on my laptop, writing thoughts about onions. The internet doesn't work over here in the hotel, really, and my computer is doing funky things.
But a Rwandan family is hanging out near me with a cute little boy who keeps coming up to me, putting his little hand on my arm, and looking at me all confused (I'm too white). And they are chatting with me about whatever right now. Of course I mentioned The Man. And the waitress is better at French, so we've been chatting a little bit in French about if the US has green peas and why the veggies here taste better (hence my post). She's been feeding me green peas and chips with bottles of Fanta Lemon.

T.I.A.