KASIA'S GREAT COOKBOOK: PIZZA

Have I ever told you about all the things I've learned in Gabon? Well, there's French, of course, and working with kids, and all those enriching experiences that make you a better person, too. But what I've really learned during my stay in Libreville is... how to make a delicious pizza. And so the time has come to share my knowledge with you. Here goes: pizza a la africana.

First make the dough. You will need 0,5 kg of flour, 4 tablespoons of olive oil, a pinch of salt and sugar, some basil or oregano (whichever you prefer), two tablespoons of dry yeast and some warm water. You mix the yeast, four tablespoons of warm water and some salt and sugar. You leave it in a warm place for fifteen minutes. Then you mix all the ingredients until the dough is smooth and soft and you let it rest in warm place for it to double its size.

Now you can prepare your tomato sauce. I use fresh tomatoes (3 medium ones should suffice), which I peel, dice and stew for a few minutes. Once they become soft, I take them out of the pan and I smash them with a fork. Tomatoes back in the pan, I add some fresh garlic, herbs (oregano, fresh basil and whatever you like), white pepper, salt and a bit of sugar. I leave it to simmer until the sauce gets thick. Then I spread it on the dough.


Now it's time to prepare your topping. I like it simple, so I usually use green pepper, ham, mushrooms, olives and mozzarella. Because of the prices in Gabon, I must settle for canned mushrooms, but I'm really looking forward to using the fresh ones in Europe. Also, as you can see in the picture, we are now forced to use black olives, because of the green olive shortage in Libreville, but both types will work, depending on your preferences.

And here we are, almost done. Put some olive oil on your baking dish, spread the dough, the sauce and your ingredients (I cut the mozzarella into thin slices but you could also grate it). You will notice that I only put olives on Jandro's side of the pizza! It's probably not very sophisticated of me, but I do hate olives and there's nothing I can do about it. As a final touch, sprinkle your pizza with some oregano. Remember to pre-heat your oven!


Clearly, to make a real Italian pizza, you must a) have a special oven, b) have all the vital ingredients and c) be Italian. Sadly, none of these points apply in my case. However, my pizza turns out delicious every time, as most of my friends will confirm. Also, it was sampled by a real Italian (and being a real Italian means you are inevitably awfully picky about food) and she was kind enough not to throw it away. Big success, I'm sure! Enjoy!

THE LITTLE PURPLE MONSIEUR DACRYODES

I've been blogging and blogging about Gabon (five posts away from an even hundred!) but I haven't really filled you in on a really essential part of living in a foreign country - the food. I've told you how to make faworki, pierogi and the like, but there were very few posts devoted specifically to African cuisine. I do not know how I could've neglected something as vital as la nourriture! I do hereby promise, however, to make up for this grave error, and I start right away by introducing the fruit/vegetable of the season, the ideal starter dish, the easiest thing to cook in the world... ladies and gentlemen: the atanga!

After my mini-research on the net, I concluded that the scientific name of the thing is Dacryodes edulis and it actually boasts six different English names, in addition to the French atanga. Our friend Dacryodes can, therefore, be referred to as african pear, african plum, bush butter, butter fruit tree, eben tree or simply native pear. I have seen it, I have tried it, and consequently I can assure you that the atanga is not a pear, nor is it a plum, and it tastes nothing like butter whatsoever. On the other hand, it's creamy, with a huge pit, and a completely undefinable taste. It's somewhere between avocado and olive maybe, savoury, for sure, not sweet.

Cooking a Dacryodes (now I have discovered the name I use it with relish) is the easiest procedure ever, which even I grasped after only one explanation. You simply boil them until they become completely soft, and you serve them with a bit of salt. You eat them with your hands, dipping them in salt - or not, your call. They are wonderful as a starter, and simply perfect if you are surprised by unexpected guests (I can think of no simpler dish).

So if you ever see the little purple Monsieur Dacryodes in a European supermarket, don't hesitate to buy it. A Central African experience guaranteed!

PS. Five posts away from 100! Any ideas on how I should celebrate?

THE OTHER JEAN PAUL II

In Poland, the words Jean Paul II (John Paul II) have only one connotation. On hearing them, you inevitably think of Jan Pawel II, the dead Pope (and a much loved Pole), and the so-called JP2 Generation, a movement of young Catholics who claim to continue John Paul's mission on Earth. In Libreville, however, though Jean Paul II may well refer to the Polish Pope (whose face kindly looks upon the faithful from a billboard in the city centre), it is also the name of a very special place: a street full of maquis, tiny African bars, where you can taste the best grilled fish in town.

The Jean Paul II area is right in the city centre. By day it looks like a very long row of abandoned wooden huts, which in the evening transform like a restaurant Cinderella. They are no longer empty but quite the contrary: full of life and energy, thriving businesses, which look unpromising but smell like decent dinner.

All maquis include: a few wooden tables, some plastic chairs, a big mamma tending to the grill and her slow, unpleasant daughter serving the drinks. You personally choose your fish and haggle (yes, here too!) in order not to pay a ridiculous price. As side dish you may ask for rice, fried banana or the typically African manioc. The fish is served with a savoury sauce with onions and green peppers and maybe some mayonnaise, so make sure to stress you don't want any while you order. It is not just a matter of taste (I personally hate mayonnaise) - uncooked eggs (as well as vegetables) are a rich source of salmonella and the like. Our motto is "The prudent one does not get typhoid fever". Maybe not the noblest of mottos but works for us.

Jean Paul II is not just about the fish, though. If it were, we wouldn't like it so much. It is a typically African part of Libreville - frequented by the actual Africans - which is, at the same time, perfectly accessible to whites. It has all the marks of the African atmosphere: shabby wooden huts, each one with its own bad-quality loudspeakers playing music as loudly as possible (as if to beat the others), grilled fish prepared outdoors, the cooks violating every single health department's rule there is, the Gabonese and their loud discussions, people dancing, people arguing, people having one Règab after another... C'est chaud at Jean Paul II. And yet we're not unwelcome there, even if not exactly welcome either.

Yes, it's dirty, loud and most of the waitresses are unpleasant. But it's also colourful and real and lively. Full of contradictions, tiring, and yet fascinating. Just like Gabon.

Photo by Giulia.

KASIA'S GREAT COOKBOOK: FAWORKI

One of the interesting things I discovered in Galicia was that Galician people made - just like in Poland! - a faworki-type dessert during the carnival. They call them orellas, which is the Galician word for ears, the name coming from the shape of the actual thing. Obviously, the superiority of Polish faworki is indisputable: not only is their shape sophisticated and sports a pretty hole, but also they lack anise, of which Galician orellas are full. Being so far away from home makes you miss these little things: the French have pancakes in the carnival season and I've tried some home-made ones and they were not great (nothing to do with their exquisite Galician counterpart, filloas!) and I'm not sure if the Gabonese prepare anything out of ordinary in this time of year. So, being as I am on holidays and with a lot of time on my hands, I decided to bring Poland to Africa and sent a quick e-mail to my Mom, the official culinary lifesaver, saying How on earth does one go about preparing faworki?! Up till two days ago, I had only assisted in their production, professionally sprinkling the icing sugar on top. Do not be distressed, my Mother answered, for it is but the easiest recipe in the world. Right she was. Takes up some time, you make a huge mess and you die of sweating if you happen to be in Africa, but they're not difficult to make. This lengthy introduction inevitably leads to another recipe: here come faworki aka orellas aka never-deep-fry-stuff-in-the-African-heat.

You make the dough out of merely three ingredients: eggs (yolks), beer and flour. You should take the same amount of beer as yolks (for example a cup of beer for a cup of yolks) and mix them with flour, until the dough is elastic and soft. It should be similar to pierogi dough. Roll it out until it's very very thin (it should be practically transparent). Cut it into stripes and make a hole in the middle of each stripe. Flip one end of the stripe through the hole and your faworek is ready!


Heat the oil in a frying pan (use vegetable oil rather then olive oil: it is too expensive and you will need a lot!). Deep fry your faworki until they turn gold and pretty. Leave them on some paper to get rid of the oil and sprinkle with icing sugar. They are ready to serve! Have a great carnival!

KASIA'S GREAT COOKBOOK: LASAGNE

Gabon makes us discover new recipes. We are pretty tired of eating the same thing over and over again (chicken with rice chicken with rice and then a bit of rice with chicken), so we've started looking for tasty and not too elaborate new ideas. With this one the tasty part is definitely true. However, "not too elaborate" turns into three hours of cooking. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present Kasia and Jandro's Special Lasagne!

First make the sauce: we just put all the vegetables we have at home (last time: carrots, aubergine, mushrooms, pepper, onion and garlic) and we stew them with minced meat and canned tomatoes until the sauce smells and tastes fantastic. We add basil and other herbs, salt, pepper and the like. It's rather easy, if time-consuming.



Now the part that is a bit more tricky: bechamel sauce. We make it from 1/3 litre of milk, enough flour for it not to be liquid, 25 gramms of butter, nutmeg and pepper. You beat the the milk and flour first (always keeping it on low fire) and then add all the rest, always stirring. That is the most tiring part - it's too hot to make bechamel!






Clearly, to make a lasagne, you need pasta. Even if they say it's not necessary to put it in hot water before it goes in the oven, we do so with the very bottom layer. Otherwise it gets too hard.







Now you only need a dish. Put some butter on the bottom so that the pasta doesn't stick. Then, layer after layer, build your lasagne. Put as much bechamel inside as you can bare.





When you're done, cover the top layer of pasta with bechamel and Parmesan cheese. Cover your dish and put it in the oven for about twenty minutes. A few minutes before it's done, uncover the lasagne (otherwise it will have a lot of water).






And there it is - all done. Do your best to cut it nicely, so that it doesn't fall apart (tricky). Don't forget to enjoy it with a glass of red wine! We recommend the fantastic Ribera del Duero called Condado de Oriza.






Mmmm, lucky me! I still have a piece of lasagne in my fridge!

KASIA'S GREAT COOKBOOK: CARROT CAKE

I got this recipe from the official Carrot Cake Master, Lucinda, and I tried it out today. Turns out the cake is easy, quick and very tasty. The latter of course I'd known before. By the way, I'm having so much fun cooking and blogging, I'm starting to worry that reports on my culinary explorations will become a regular thing...

Cake ingredients: 4 eggs, 250ml vegetable oil, 350g white sugar, 350g flour, 2 teaspoons baking soda, 2 teaspoons cinnamon, 2 teaspoons baking powder, 2 teaspoons nutmeg, 2 teaspoons vanilla extract, 250g grated carrots, 100g chopped hazelnuts.



Preparation:

1. In a large bowl, beat together eggs, oil, white sugar and vanilla.









2. Mix in flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon. Stir in carrots.





3. Grease and flour a large pan. Preheat oven to 175 degrees. Bake in the preheated oven for 40 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Let cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely.





Icing ingredients: 125g soft butter, 225g cream cheese, 500g confectioner's sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, 100g chopped hazelnuts.






In a bowl, combine butter, cream cheese, confectioner's sugar and vanilla. Beat until the mixture is smooth and creamy. Stir in chopped nuts. Frost the cooled cake.







Keep your father away from the cake or else it will disappear too fast! Enjoy!

Merry Christmas everyone! Have a wonderful Christmas Eve!

KASIA'S GREAT COOKBOOK: PIEROGI

It's Christmas and Christmas is all about cooking. So today, as the title suggests, we shall take a close look at how one of the most important Polish dishes is made. And one of the few I can actually prepare. Here goes, ladies and gentlemen, pierogi z kapustą i grzybami!

Dough ingredients: 3/4 kg of flour, a pinch of salt, two eggs and some water.






Stuffing ingredients: chopped sauerkraut, mushrooms, salt and pepper; all cooked together until it's brownish and soft.





Prepare pierogi:


1. Mix all the ingredients, kneading until the dough resembles pizza dough, maybe a bit less soft but definitely elastic.

2. Roll out the dough until it's quite thin and cut out round pieces - we always use a glass.







3. Put a bit of stuffing onto the dough.








4. Fold the dough and make it pretty.







5. Boil some water with a pinch of salt and a spoonful of olive oil. Boil pierogi for about 3 minutes after they appear on the surface. Don't forget to stir!






6. Last but not least, my favourite part: happy consumption. Serve them boiled (possibly with a bit of lard on top if you dare) or fried. Enjoy!




Task for tomorrow: carrot cake. Not typically Polish but I'll keep you posted anyway!

THE RESTAURANT

On Great Thursday we decided to have lunch in an African restaurant (a grand idea of "taking me out" after three days of cooking at home:). Some Gabonese ladies from Jandro´s office recommended him a place and we set off to find it.

In the street they mentioned we could only see one place though and, to be honest, we felt quite sceptical about it. Even though the picture on the left does not show the actual restaurant, it does give you an idea of what the place looked like. It was an open-air grill which boasted dirty tables and a great deal of flies, but it also had a lot of people and, as the place had been recommended to us, we plucked up the courage and sat down. We had chicken and fried banana (instead of potatoes) and the local grapefruit drink D´jino, which I´ll soon become addicted to. The food was ok but it contained some mayo sauce, which we decided not to eat (you should not have raw food round here and uncooked eggs are especially dangerous because of salmonella).

We paid and left and felt rather proud of ourselves (oh wow, we´re almost natives!) and chatted cheerfully as we strolled down the street on our way back. All that cheerfulness evaporated, however, when just a few metres away, hidden behind a big car, we saw the actual restaurant that the ladies had spoken of. It looked much better than the place we´d just left and the risk of getting a disease seemed much smaller there. We got panicky about our stomachs and we both developed a stomach-ache almost immediately but, luckily, nothing happened. We survived the hard-core African food. Good. Almost natives.

Yesterday we did go to the second place, though. I had... CROCODILE, accompanied by a plate of manioca. Crocodile had scales and very delicate meat. The sauce was spicy but all in all the meal was ok. Crocodile. Check out the pic.

THE MARKET

On Sunday morning we went to an African market (there are no pictures, as I did not have the courage to take out my camera, maybe next time). It was huge, dirty and very loud. People running, people selling, people buying, children walking all about the place, no shoes on, and the smells, the smells of Africa.

You can buy everything there but you ALWAYS have to haggle, even more so if you´re white (at some point Jandro gave up and I guess overpaid but can you blame him in this heat?). Oh, have I mentioned we´re white, by the way? Very distinctive feature in a place like this. Among hundreds of people, we only saw three others whose skin was not the beautiful colour of pure dark chocolate (I´m not trying to be poetic, I just find those people truly beautiful).

We were looking for some things for the bathroom and at one point we went into a shop (a big stall really) which was full of little children, 3-year-olds maybe. When we were walking out they blocked our way and one of them looked at us boldly and stretched out his hand in the international gesture of "pay if you want to cross". They learn quickly here.

As we wanted to buy bed linen, we stopped in front of one of the stalls that offered some. Immediately a man appeared and offered to show us the best bed linen ever. We agreed (when I say "we", I mean Jandro, as I´m unable to communicate out here - unless you count my helpless smiles) and followed him. He led us through the market ("Oh my God, we´re going to get completely lost!") and down some stairs into a dark alley, where black men were impassively sitting by their goods, smoking ("Oh my God, this is how we die!"). We started feeling uncomfortable, so Jandro said something about lumière and we turned back. The man did not give up, however, until we took a look at his fantastic, American (he assured us), bed linen. I think we left him thinking that it was a good argument, because after he repeated "American" a dozen times, we paid him.

We also bought a local treat there, manioca (see photo). It´s the basic food here, like potato for us. They cook it, make a kind of very thick paste and wrap it in the leaves. Then you eat it (cold) as sidedish but it doesn´t have much taste I´m afraid. Nevertheless, that´s what "God has given them to eat", as the seller informed us.

Anyway, I loved the market (in spite of the complete lack of hygiene and in spite of being called "white" every five steps) and I hope to go back with my camera (or, more specifically, to pluck up the courage to take it out of my bag). And also to buy some material for my African dress. :)