Rolexes for 40 cents…

If you ever email, message, or call me during my stay in Uganda please do NOT mention one thing: ice cream.  My infatuation with this guilty-pleasure was influenced most by my Pap Snap.  Whenever visiting on a hot summer day, we would jump in his prized, black truck and head to the local convenient store to get a half gallon of scrumptious rocky road.  Upon our return, Grandma C.C. would bring out the special, green ice cream bowls and it was time to get down to business.  Unfortunately, these excursions likely led to my need for the “Husky” size jeans in elementary school…

…anyway, ever since, I have been on a quest for the perfect cone (and I am pretty sure I found it with my friend, Dreussi at the Piazza Navona in Rome).  So upon arriving in Kampala, I thought I had a plethora of new, yummy samples to try.  After patronizing 3 different ice cream parlors, I have sadly abandoned my search.  To be frank, Ugandan ice cream sucks.  The chocolate was grainy; the pineapple tasted like an old refrigerator; I tossed the cherry after realizing I was essentially eating cough syrup.

I must beg to change the topic as all this talk of ice cream is too painful.  Despite my obvious disappointment, many of the foods I have tried have been quite enjoyable… and at the very least, tolerable.  No local meal would be complete without matoke, Uganda’s basic food staple of mashed steamed green plantains (pretty much tasteless unless served with a sauce of some sort).  Posho is another local favorite, a dish of maize flour and water (friends from the Kenya trip, this is Uganda’s version of ugali).  Now like any good Caldwell, I despise sweet potatoes back home… but here they are one of my favorite dishes (mostly out of necessity).  My major complaint with the food, however, is the lack of spice; I have remedied this dilemma with a small bottle of Top Up hot sauce (it essentially can be added to any available food and only cost 40 cents a bottle).  And if the Top Up gets old, there are several Indian and Chinese restaurants in Kampala offering dishes that will make your eyes water.

Woman at my guesthouse making matoke

In addition to these typical meals, I have sampled my share of street food.  Now some foreigners, and even locals, advise against purchasing anything made by a stranger over an open fire on the street.  However, some of the best meals I have sampled thus far have been such questionable fare (and I just keep my fingers crossed I won’t contract cholera).  I consider samosas the perfect Ugandan snack.  These triangle-shaped, fried pastries can be filled with a number of vegetables, meats, and seasonings.  On my way into work, I typically stop and pick up a few mandazi, a fried bread equivalent to our doughnuts back home that I take with my morning tea (switching to tea instead of coffee to overcome my caffeine addiction).  A good evening bite is a roasted ear of corn that my sister would absolutely love (tastes just like popcorn, Rhe, and you can dowse it in butter).

Yet, in my opinion these morsels don’t hold a candle to the top street foods: Wandageya chicken and rolexes.  Wandageya is a region within Kampala where you can purchase the best TV chickens (they were dubbed this because the rotisserie they roast in resembles a television).  After cooking slowly all day, the vendor separates the whole chicken into pieces, adds some secret spices, cabbage, and onions and allows it to simmer for a little longer.  He then hands it over to you in a mysterious black bag of deliciousness.  The only comparable food to the contents of that bag is the indescribable rolex (which I will now attempt to describe).  Now, as you might have guessed, it is not an expensive watch; the name likely came from a basic description of “rolled eggs.”  The rolex man dumps a bunch of cabbage, onions, and tomatoes into a cup, adds two eggs, stirs it up and fries it on a griddle (basically making an omelet).  The egg is then rolled up in a freshly prepared chipati, making an egg burrito of sorts, all for about 40 cents.  After a concert late one night, I was closely observing my rolex guy, Freddie, as he prepared my midnight feast.  He must have noticed my interest because he plopped a lump of chipati dough in front of me and told me to get to work… I helped him make rolexes for about 20 minutes (earning me a free chipati), and he promised another lesson the following week.  I am determined to master the process before I come home; a few rolex stands in Columbus, Ohio would be an ideal way to pay my way through medical school.

All of this talk of food is making my stomach rumble so I am off to grab some grub.  If anyone has the urge to send me some treats from home, please let me know; but I doubt a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream would traverse the Atlantic very well…