Food – Tales and Travel

Food Adventures in Madagascar

Food is a hot topic in travel these days. More and more destinations offer food tours with samplings of tasty street goodies.

Being a dedicated foodie, upon arrival in Madagascar (Mada) last summer, I naively inquired about a food tour. “Not here,” announced Ravi, a guide and driver. “People get sick. They reuse the cooking oil.”

Forget street food, as well as haute cuisine and Michelin star restaurants. I did, however, enjoy some delicious dining during my stay in the country, the fifth poorest in the world.

I loved visiting the markets, taking photos of the friendly vendors, and learning about Mada food.

Let’s start with rice. “We must eat rice three times per day,” declared Emanuel, my guide at a market in Antananarivo (Tana), the country capital. We passed numerous rice stands with numerous kinds of rice. “But this is not enough. We also import rice from China and India,” he added.

Hard to believe. During my first excursion in Mada, to a lemur park about 25 kilometers from Tana, we passed miles of rice paddies. However, on another excursion we passed brick factories on the river banks. Bricks replaced rice; I was told. “You can make more money with bricks.”

Zebu are to Madagascar what reindeer are to Norway. The island’s domestic cattle originally came from South Asia. They serve as a source of meat, as well as a beast of burden. The humped cattle are a symbol of wealth and status, and play an essential role in ceremonies and sacrificial rituals (see previous post, Madagascar’s Intriguing Ancestor Rituals) Popular souvenirs – jewelry, salad tongs, bowls, decorative objects – are made of zebu horns. The color and grain of the horns vary, so each piece has a distinct pattern.

I am not a hearty meat eater, but twice I savored zebu filet. Exquisite. Filet is not on the menu at market food stalls, but zebu stomach and feet are, both considered delicacies.

Many market stands are “fast food” depots, offering a variety of prepared dishes at reasonable prices. Shoppers stop for a meal at the markets. “We like to eat here. It’s easier than going home to cook,” I was told.

My guide went for the stomach and feet. I was not tempted. A colorful concoction of pasta and vegetables did tempt me, but I dared not. Locals have grown up with this food. They don’t get sick.

Cassava leaves are an essential ingredient in many Malagasy dishes, especially the national favorite, ravitoto. Leaves can be purchased pre ground at the market.

I watched as women mixed the leaves with coconut milk, grated coconut, water, and then squeezed it all dry, before mixing it with meat and vegetables for cooking. This was one of many ready-to-eat offerings at the market.

In Nosy Be, the Mada resort town where I spent several days, a brochette stand is a sensation. Customers line up in the evening for take-home brochettes, about 11 US cents each. The tiny stand was started by the mother of some of the workers years ago. It’s grown into a thriving family business, employing daughters, granddaughters and cousins, all at work cutting up 25 kilos of zebu every day, then assembling the brochettes with the meat, green papaya, and more.

As an island nation, Madagascar offers a variety of fish and other sea creatures for the dinner plate. I visited a fishing village where thousands of sardines were drying in the sun.

Although I love fish and seafood, I was disappointed in what I tasted in Mada – all overcooked for me. With one exception: camarons, a type of large gamba from the waters of nearby Mozambique. To die for, along with zebu filet.

This was my last night treat at the Sakamanga (blue cat) hotel in Tana. The menu selections there were several notches up from restaurant food I had elsewhere. The restaurant was bustling. Reservations a must.

The hotel itself could be a tourist attraction, its walls decorated with framed old newspaper front pages and photos, and hallways filled with ancient Malagasy treasures.

Why the hotel name meaning blue cat? No one could tell me. As a childless cat lady, I was delighted to spot two curled up kitties on an office chair, as well as other cats during my travels. Malagasy like felines, I learned.

And, I loved my adventures in Mada. For more, see my previous posts: Discovering the Unique Wonder of Madagascar and Madagascar’s Intriguing Ancestor Rituals

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Malagasy John Delmas organizes and guides visits to Madgascar. John was my guide/driver for two days. He was super, taught me lots. Contact his company. https://www.mada-discovery-travels.com

Ravi Matadeen rents made-in-Madagasar unique vehicles for self drive trips. http://www.selfdrivemadagascar.com.

I booked my African adventure, South Africa (Kruger) and Madagascar, with Worldwide Quest, http://www.worldwidequest.com

Today’s Taste. No new recipe, but one from the past, CHICKEN MAFE. It’s not a Malagasy recipe, but a West African speciality. I have made it several times for African dinner parties and it’s always a hit. Peanuts are the secret ingredient. For more tasty recipes, click here.

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Back on the Road Again

“Madame, vous êtes à la fin, » (Madame, you are at the end (of life), she announced as she massaged my ancient body. I had to chuckle, thinking to myself, “Yes, I know. But did you need to remind me?”

I had treated myself to a massage at an upscale hotel in Nosy Be, Madagascar, Part II of my solo voyage to South Africa and Madagascar (Mada), the world’s fifth poorest country.

Why would a handicapped old lady traveling alone (me) come to Madagascar? It was obvious those I met on the journey were surprised, if not baffled. I did not fit the profile of the typical Mada tourist.

Madagascar is a fascinating, gorgeous country, but crime ridden and poor – very poor. Most visitors are young and fit or older and fit, exploring Mada’s rich biodiversity and incredible landscapes which involve long, rigorous journeys over mainly dirt roads. Mada is huge, the world’s fourth largest island. Distances are great. Due to my disability, my excursions were near cities and mainly on paved roads with a private driver/guide – nonetheless challenging at times.

I was apprehensive, if not nervous, prior to departure. Had I taken a step too far? I was petrified of falling again. But I charged ahead.

Madagascar is home to 112 species of lemur, all endangered.

A woman I met my first night at a hotel in Mada gave me some words of wisdom. She is a health care worker who has a daughter with disabilities. “You need to push yourself, test your boundaries. Use it or lose it.’’

I reflected on those words many times in Mada – when faced with uneven, stony or dirt terrain to navigate, steep steps with no railings, hills with no steps. “You can do it. Slowly. Carefully,” I told myself.

Travel has been my lifelong passion. I relish learning about different lands, cultures, traditions. I love talking to locals. You learn so much. It is enriching. It can change who you are. Travel adds perspective to life and understanding of the world.

My late husband Bob shared my passion for travel and adventure. We traveled near and far. After several difficult years suffering from Alzheimer’s, he passed way two years ago. About the same time, I had a horrendous fall – a complicated femur break and a broken shoulder. Despite numerous surgeries, I have limited mobility and need a cane to walk. And, I don’t have full motion of my left arm following the injury.

I am à la fin, handicapped, but still alive. I can walk, albeit slowly. I no longer have a travel partner. What to do? Sit on the couch, watch TV ad wait to die?

NO. NO. Get up. Get going. Get back on the road again. I did. It was invigorating. I felt alive again. I loved it.

As Saint Augustine said, “The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.” I want to read all the pages.

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See below for a new recipe just in time for all those ripe tomatoes.

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TODAY’S TASTE – Savory Tomato Tarte Tatin

Savory Tomato Tarte Tatin

Click below photo for recipe. For more recipes, click here.

Return to Germany

Like I remembered. Idyllic. We were surrounded by green, pure nature, at the Fischerhütte near Darmstadt, Germany.

*Thekla, Andrea and Thiemo at the Fischerhuettte*

Many, many years ago when I worked as a journalist at the newspaper Stars and Stripes, I lived not so far away. I remember hikes to the hütte in the forest. I remember treks to secret places in that forest in search of the coveted steinpilze (boletus, cepes, porcini – whatever the name, the king of mushrooms). I remember the tranquility, the beauty of those woods.

It was wunderbar to return to Germany after so many years. I have missed Deutschland – old friends, favorite foods, the lush forests.

Trout for lunch at the Fischerhuette, and the best German beverage, beer.

Andrea, the daughter of an old friend, her husband Thiemo and her sweet mother, Thekla, led me down memory lane, not just to the Fischerhütte, but other special spots. It was magical.

Many more memories were rekindled with friends in the Stuttgart area where I lived with husband Bob (RIP) for many years.

Gerlinde welcomed me in her Stuttgart home. Like many of my friends, she is a foodie par excellence, even making her own yogurt and ice cream. She is also devoted to fitness and swims against the jet stream in her pool for 20 minutes every day. I just swam, minus the jet stream.

*Gerlinde swims daily against a powerful water jet — Impressive.*

We drove to Steinenbronn, past the apartment where Bob and I lived for 11 happy years. At a nearby restaurant, I indulged in my very favorite Swabian special, Zwiebelrostbraten (onion steak) with homemade Spaetzle.

I can’t complain about food on the Mediterranean coast where I now live, yet there is a shortage of ethnic eateries.

Not so in Germany where, among others, Turkish restaurants abound. I miss those, too. Marianne treated me to lunch at her friendly neighborhood Turkish restaurant. I wanted to bring those flavors back to France.

Then, that de rigeur German ritual, afternoon Kaffee und Kuchen (coffee and cake) at her apartment.

Fun conversation and memories of good times enhanced all those luscious tastes.

My friends indeed lavished me with generous and delicious hospitality. Dagmar invited me and other friends to her home for a tasty lunch with a scrumptious raspberry cream dessert. And, Heti invited us to a multi-course dinner of exquisite delicacies, each worthy of a magazine photo (photos below). This was especially remarkable as she had fallen and broken her wrist the day before.

On my last day we met in Bebenhausen. Bob and I were avid cyclists. We liked to pedal from Steinenbronn to this tiny burg with an ancient monastery and an excellent restaurant. It is still charmingly picturesque. My last treat before heading home, another German delicacy: Rehrücken filet (venison filet). Delectable.

Living on the Mediterranean coast, I have the sea, palm trees, the Maritime Alps, tropical gardens – but no dense, enchanting forests. I had not realized that I was forest deprived. I was in awe of all the fabulous German greenery.

I mentioned this to Andrea, so we visited yet more. “I’ve never been to so many forests in one day,” she said. Gerlinde told me that Stuttgart has more green space than any other German city.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep…,” and a treasure.

Thank you, dear friends, I loved my return to Germany –especially seeing all of you.

Below: Heti’s superb creations. Each was mouthwatering.

I will add a new recipe next time. Meanwhile, for an easy, tasty dessert, try my recent discovery, RUM-SOAKED MANGOES. Sinfully delicious.

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Rambling along the Riviera

Emmy and Anne came to visit. They are sisters, my cousins whom I have not seen in too many years.

Emmy is a year older than Anne. Anne is 5 days older than I. As children, we saw each other frequently. With time and moves, all that changed. (Thank you, Emmy, for above photo. )

**And cousins now**: Anne, me and Emmy. We celebrated Derby Day with mint juleps.
As a young reporter I worked for the Louisville Courier-Journal and was assigned to cover the elegant Derby “balls.”

Neither cousin had been to my turf in southern France. I wanted to show them my favorites and the must-sees of the area. We were on the move during their week-long visit, rambling along the Riviera.

I asked them to send me impressions, comments, etc. after their return. Continue reading for photo highlights and their comments.

First stop was the old village of Roquebrune, a quick, but steep drive from my abode. Gorgeous views and an ancient olive tree.

We ventured up in the hills on day #2 of their visit, a stop for meditation and reflection at the place where my Bob’s ashes have been dispersed. Husband Bob and I were avid cyclists. He loved challenging climbs. We attacked this road and its numerous hairpin turns many times.

*Pilgrimage chapel along the road between Sospel and Moulinet where I dispersed Bob’s ashes.*

“I loved seeing the remote and serene place where you gave Bob a final resting place. What a beautiful place to commune with nature and to be part of a sacred pilgrimage like so many before us,” Anne said.

We were on the border with Italy. I felt they should have a taste of my preferred country, so we continued up the mountain and returned to the coast via Italy. Bob and I had cycled some – but not all of this terrain. It was a long, long way down.

Anne’s comment: “You complained about the day with the too long drive but that was one of my favorite days. You are a fearless driver! The hairpin turns, the cyclists, the sheer drop offs were terrifying to me but didn’t seem to faze you.” …Driving in the Mediterranean hinterland is not for the faint of heart.

Markets are de rigueur around here. The Saturday morning market in nearby Menton is enticing with clothes (Italian bargains) in addition to tempting produce. Cousins were impressed, and each found a garment souvenir. “The market in Menton was lots of fun,” noted Emmy.

A market of a different sort was also high on their list of favorites. Conad, an Italian supermarket on the border, is like no other, the antithesis of a sanitized, huge, beautiful American supermarket. It’s cluttered, chaotic, always crowded. French love the cheaper prices. I love the prices too, but mostly the crazy ambiance and the Italian products.

Patience and skill required to negotiate the aisles at Conad.

For Anne, this was her “upfront favorite experience… both disorienting and fascinating.” Emmy commented that she was glad she had the experience “in the store with anything and everything one might want. ” Pots and pans, socks and underwear, plants and flowers — all are stuffed in those narrow Conad aisles.

Outstanding art museums are a major attraction on the Riviera, including the Picasso museum in Antibes where I found lots of photo opps.

Miro sculpture on the terrace of the Picasso museum.

But for me the museum piece de resistance is the Fondation Maeght in St. Paul de Vence. On my first trip to the Riviera moons ago, I visited the Fondation. I was overwhelmed then and overjoyed recently with our visit. The art museum on a hill overlooking the medieval town features a superb collection of modern art including large sculptures in gardens and on terraces.

Alexander Calder sculpture in the garden.

Since we were in the area, we stopped to visit the Matisse chapel in nearby Vence. A nun inspired the artist to create the chapel whose vibrant colors are dazzling.

Emmy summed up her take on the trip: ” I loved each and every excursion. Was especially intrigued by Dolceacqua with its historic bridge and unique and ancient tunnel structure leading up to the castle. Loved the trip to Eze with its beautiful gardens perched on the hilltop.”

*Dolceaqua with its castle and ancient bridge*

Food is a travel highlight. My dear cousins are easy to please and liked everything. We avoided expensive eateries. Sitting outdoors at a Vence resto, Anne ordered coffee as her lunch beverage. I explained that in France coffee is a breakfast drink, definitely not ordered as liquid refreshment with a noon or evening meal. However, after the meal, a “petit ” espresso is in order. It was all in fun. One can drink whatever whenever, but I thought they should learn a bit about the local customs.

“One of my favorite moments was when I ordered coffee at lunch and you gave me a startled look and told me that was a gauche thing to do. Or perhaps I am gauche, your country bumpkin, too-American cousin! That struck me as so amusing, so familial in a way,” she recalled. BTW: Anne is delightful, definitely not gauche.

Because we were on the move, I did not prepare at- home dinners, except for their arrival, my all-time favorite, Shakshuka. Click for the recipe. I had made a rum carrot cake in advance of their arrival. We had a slice every day — too much and it wore thin (but not on the waistline). We never did finish it.

It was heartwarming, fun and gratifying to reunite with my cousins. A few months ago my nephew visited – his first time in Europe. We had a “blast.” Read about that adventure: Intro to Europe 101.

I hope all my kin will come back. And, so does Simba who bonded with Emmy.

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TODAY’S TASTE: Rum-soaked mangoes (a winner)

Click on Mangoes for recipe and for more recipes, click here.

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Swedish holiday “orgy”

Following is a guest blog with photos by Swedish friend Lars who recently journeyed to his home country to celebrate his sister’s birthday. It was more than an over-the-top birthday party: the Julbord, a holiday overdose of food – and akvavit (a popular and strong Scandinavian spirit. See below for more on this beverage). The Julbord is a must at Christmas, but can be repeated during the festive season including on New Year’s Day. The eating can go on all day, Lars says. “It’s supposed to be drawn out. It’s an orgy. You need time to recover.” He recalls that housewives used to “slave for two weeks” to prepare the food, but many now celebrate in restaurants.

By Lars Sjöström

On the topic of Christmas food traditions, Sweden is in a league of its own when it comes to sheer opulence embodied in the institution of the Julbord, which is a king-sized jumbo version of the famous “smorgasbord” with extra bells and whistles and a bow on top.

The canonical way of eating your way through a Julbord is to start with a plate of cured salmon, several varieties of smoked salmon, and at least three — preferably 5-7 — different kinds of pickled herring , mackerel, smoked eel and various sauces eaten together with boiled potatoes and “special Christmas edition” crisp bread.

The first of several shots of akvavit is consumed in conjunction with communal singing of a snapsvisa — an often humorous ditty extolling the virtues of (heavy) drinking. There will be many more of these and they become naughtier as the evening progresses…

Next up is assembling a plateful of cold cuts, where the glazed ham is the centerpiece. There should be a minimum of ten, but usually many more different dishes ranging from sausages, patées and meats in jelly, to smoked reindeer and smoked lambs leg and whatever else is traditional in various parts of the country.

Another shot, another drinking song, and a swig of either Christmas ale or julmust, a nonalcoholic soft drink only available at Christmas time.

The third round consists of hot dishes, and here is where the famous Swedish meatballs enter the scene. There should also be tiny hot dogs made from premium ingredients, spare ribs, different kinds of stews often based on game such as deer, moose or reindeer. At this point vegetables like red, green and brown cabbage, cauliflower and Brussel sprouts are introduced.

Another shot, another song— you know the drill.

There is a cheese round, a dessert round and a Christmas sweets round, all with songs and shots.

If you are still able to function after all this, you can enjoy Julgröt — porridge made from rice boiled in milk and flavoured with cinnamon. There should be a single peeled almond hidden inside, and if you happen to find it, it will bring you luck in the new year.

Akvavit/Aquavit is a distilled spirit (at least 37.5 % in alcohol strength) produced in Scandinavia from grain or potatoes and flavoured with spices, especially caraway. Dill is also used in the Swedish version. The obligatory toast, *Skål*, precedes each shot.

Happy New Year! Let’s hope that the devastating wars ragging in too many parts of the world will come to an end. I especially grieve for Gaza that has and continues to be destroyed by US bombs, with some 45,000 lives lost. This has to stop. Let’s try to be optimistic and hope that somehow sanity and morality will prevail in the U.S.

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Check out my tried and true recipes — keep scrolling down on a phone, or, if on a /PC or tablet, up to the column on right then down to “Recipes.” I will add new recipes soon.