Nothing Says I Love You Like...A Deep-Fried Grasshopper

People eat all sorts of strange things all over the world....in Canada we have beavertails, Kraft Dinner with chopped up hot dogs and french fries covered in cheese curds. Here in Tanzania, well in the last week or so...I've seen deep-fried flies (in my french fries) and a deep-fried ant (in my samosa). Accidents do happen...and I am sure those two bugs are missed by their family and friends. However as most travellers to exotic locales (like Hamilton) know sometimes people eat bugs on purpose....

I just came back from an internship-related trip to the Lake region of Tanzania. We visited the cities of Mwanza, right on the shore of the largest lake in Africa, Lake Victoria, and Shinyanga (a city in the semi-arid region of Tanzania about 2 hours south of Mwanza). The purpose of the trip was to visit rural entrepreneurs and learn about this business successes and challenges. More on that in an upcoming entry...but first here is something very interesting which, as usual, I managed to discover completely by accident.


We (Pat-my fellow intern, Mr. Goodluck Mmari- our professorial escort from MUCCoBS, and Mr. Jaffrey, our drunk and driving driver) we all sitting down to dinner at a nyama choma place in Mwanza, when a young man carrying a large covered box approached and asked us if we wanted to buy what was inside. Since everything was being said in Swahili...Mr. Mmari, answered for the group and said "Hapana Ahsante-No Thank You!" I asked what was in the box and was told nonchalantly....Grasshoppers!


In the Lake Victoria region apparently, the greatest delicacy of all is the fried or smoked soft, seasonal grass hoppers “ensenene”. In particular, it seems there is a tribe in Tanzania, the Haya, that consider a bag of fried grasshoppers to be the ultimate present to get your sweetheart if you have been away. It's a sign of affection and something you are required to purchase if you haven't seen the man or woman you love for a few days, weeks or even months. And is a present that is expected if you have travelled away for any period of time. As much as I was dying to chase the guy and look in the box in order to take a photo, I restrained myself and you all will have to be satisfied with the photo below courtesy of Google images.



Here is a recipe that I found in case anyone reading this wants to give them a try:

There are many ways of preparing ensenene, this recipe spices the dish up with the addition of chilli, onion and ghee.


Ingredients
- 4 mugs of live, fresh ensenene
- Chilli powder to taste- 2 mugs water
- 1 large onion, chopped- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 ½ tablespoon mature ghee


Pluck the wings and limbs off the grasshoppers. Put the insects in a pan. Add the salt and water and cook slowly on low heat for about 20 minutes. Drain off the water. Put the ghee in a small bowl, thoroughly stir in the chilli powder and put aside. Put the drained grasshoppers in a heavy bottomed pan and cook over low heat, stirring all the time until the water evaporates. Add half the ghee and continue stirring over low heat for about 10 minutes, making sure it doesn’t burn. (If you don’t like chilli, use the ghee without it.) Finally, add the chopped onions and the remaining ghee. Keep stirring until crisp and golden brown. Serve hot.


Fried grasshoppers apparently taste just like chicken and are a crunchy and satisfying snack. I am sure they are tasty...but I am not prepared to try any anytime soon.

C.S.I. Tanzania

I've now participated in two events unique to the Tanzanian and/or East African experience....daladalas and nyama choma.


Daladalas are old Toyota vans and you see them all over the place here in Moshi. They are usually crammed to the brim with mamas, babas, bwanas, bibis, boys, girls, nuns and sometimes even chickens (live chickens). You stand at the daladala stand, wait for it to slow down, then you, along with at least 5-10 other people try to cram your way onto an already full bus. You have to put all common "North American" sense aside along with visions of being hurling out of a moving bus and just jump right on. Somehow everyone manages to squish their way in and squish their way out and the daladala driver (and his assistant) manage to keep track, without tickets or tokens, who has paid and who hasn't. It's the cheapest ride around...(300 Schillings = 30 cents) and you can get to just about anywhere. You knock really hard on the window and the bus will stop to let you out. The main problem I can see is being able to see where you are going when you are standing up in a bus, hanging on to a bar (or Jen's arm) for dear life, with half of your body hanging out of the door. So far so good though..although I read in my Rough Guide to Tanzania last night that the Moshi-Arusha highway (the one we will be on most of the time) is the most dangerous in Tanzania. It doesn't surprise me...the roads here are mostly potholes.

However even potholes come with their advantages. Pat told me about one enterprising individual who lives near Seminar Block (our dormitory) has a wheelbarrow full of dirt which he uses to fill in the pot holes in the road. He then sets up rocks and charges passing cars a "toll" to go by. Here's a ministry of transportation that actually gets things done! Although I did ask Pat if he fills the same holes all day, or if he fills the holes, collects the tax, then at the end of the night collects his dirt, goes home, and starts all over again the next day. This remains to be seen...I'll have to watch out for him.

Last night, I finally tried "nyama choma" at the Green Garden Bar (right by the university). Nyama Choma is char-grilled meat, often accompanied with grilled plantains and chili sauce. Traditionally the meat is beef, but they were only serving chicken and goat while we were there. You have to go over to the booth where they grill the meat to order, and as we were trying to decide between goat and chicken, I looked down and saw a goat's tail on the counter...and decided right then and there I wanted chicken. Although the presence of the tail relates to the freshness of the meat, so that was reassuring.

We had a great time, trying to eat the chicken, and trying to identify which part we were eating. (They chop it up into bite-sized pieces and bring it to your table on a platter) Somehow (thanks Pat!) we got it into our heads that one of the unidentifiable pieces was the head...and even though they never serve the head...I got scared at least twice into thinking a certain piece was the head (Check facebook for photos). The meat was tasty (there are no spices added it's just grilled), the service was there (although slow....everything is more laid back here and it took almost 1.5 hours to get served), and we had a lot of laughs eating the chicken. What a bunch of weirdos :)