I thought French fries and cabbage salad were strange for breakfast, not to mention that I have to eat a fried egg every morning. But this morning I had what was essentially a cold sloppy joe for breakfast. Plus there was no milk for my tea. It was a pretty miserable breakfast.
Last night I cooked an “American” meal for my host family. I made spaghetti bolognaise (over a coal fire), salad, and garlic bread as I knew I could find all the ingredients, and it wouldn’t be such a strange meal since they make spaghetti (just not with sauce like we do). I completely made up the spaghetti sauce, but I must say it was the best sauce I’ve ever made. Everyone ate it silently. Only Pai (Father) Goba said it was good and helped himself to seconds. All tentatively tried the garlic bread. They had never seen such a thing before. I evilly thought of asking everyone if the food was good and to please have more (their nightly routine with me), but I refrained. Even if they didn’t particularly enjoy “American” food, I think they were pleased that I wanted to cook for them.
This morning when I went to breakfast, I noticed, instead of my usual fried egg, a little plate with some reddish-brownish stuff on it. Upon closer inspection I realized it was leftover spaghetti sauce. At least there was some bread alongside it. Why they think I would want spaghetti sauce for breakfast, I will never know. Perhaps it was punishment for making them eat my strange cooking? Next time I should introduce them to yoghurt and muesli.