Most of my meals in the States came from one of three places. They were:
1. My mother (this is embarrassing to admit, but it is true)
2. A McDonald’s bag (this is embarrassing to admit, but it is true)
3. The microwave (Easy Mac)
But here in Cape Verde I do not own a microwave, my mother is an ocean away, and there is not even a fast food chain in this country (and don’t get me started here. I have been craving a double cheeseburger like a pregnant woman. I cannot tell you how many dreams I have had about being back in the States and ordering fast food. And of course, in these dreams something always goes horribly wrong—the person in front of me orders the last McFlurry, or my Whopper falls ketchup and mayonnaise side down on the floor, or just as I am about to get my tray of food someone pulls out a handgun and decides to rob the place.)
So, I’ve been forced to start cooking. This has been quite the adventure. I found that my roommate, Nelson, has done about as much cooking as I have in my life. We’ve come a long way since we first moved in together in September. One of our first meals was pasta with tomato sauce and hotdog bits. It might have been good, but it had no taste. I mean absolutely no taste. It was weird, almost concerning.
“Do you taste anything?” I asked Nelson.
“No. Nothing.”
“But, I swear, it feels like I’m eating something.”
Then Nelson taught me a dish he had learned in France. It’s called tunapastamayo. It has three ingredients. They are:
1. Tuna
2. Pasta
3. Mayonnaise
This quickly became our household staple. We made plans to one day open a tunapastamayo restaurant in either Iowa City, Iowa, or Columbus, Ohio. Plates of tunapastamayo will cost 50 cents and be sold, primarily, to drunken college students. They will have the option to pay $6.00 and receive the never-ending-plate of tunapastamayo.
I also mastered how to fry an egg and claim to be the best American at it on the entire island. There also may or may not be only six Americans on this island and one of the six may or may not be a vegan.
More recently, we’ve been branching out and trying new foods from the cookbook. If you ever find yourself 375 miles off the coast of Senegal, feel free to stop by our place and request the “Tuna Creole.” It’s filthy.
About two months ago we decided to buy a pressure cooker, mainly to cut down the amount of time it was taking us to cook beans. When Nelson told me he wanted to buy a pressure cooker, I told him to go for it, envisioning a crock pot in my head. Let me tell you something I have since learned: a pressure cooker is nothing like a crock pot. Instead of returning with a handy little contraption that you plug into a wall, he came back with a big metal container that looked like something you could detonate a bomb inside and nothing would happen.
After we bought it, we started to ask around town for tips on using it. Somewhere in there we heard that a pressure cooker is essentially a bomb. I grew a little concerned. One night a friend came over to hang out. We asked him if he new anything about pressure cookers.
“Yeah, we had one,” he said. “They cook food well.”
We asked him what happened to it.
“It exploded.”
After that Nelson and I decided to look at the manual to see if to see if it had any warnings. The manual is half written in Arabic, which neither of us read, and the other half is translated into English. The English is fun to read.
The title page reads, “Operation Instruction for The High-quality Gland Flame-proof Cooker.” Please note, I have made no typos here.
The list of pressure cooker parts includes:
- knob 12. antii blockage nut
- elastic ridge 13. spacer
- boit sleeve 14. ears
- ball bearing 15. handles
- guide screw 16. body
- central spacer 17. rubber sealing ring
- central lock nut 18. lid
- pressure—limiting valve (working valve) 19. big spacer
- lock spring 20. top spacer
- valve base 21. slice spring
- washer
As a general rule, I try to avoid cooking inside anything that has ears, but I’ll let that slide. My personal favorite is #12.
Then, later on in the manual, we found what appears to be some advertisement points. “Safe and Reliable,” it claims. “NO BURSTING!” “Scientificly Designed, Grace and Beautiful.” And then we read, “Operational Safety and Pressure Control are both items exempt from Customs Inspection.”
Wait…WHAT?!?!?
“How can the operational safety be exempt from Customs Inspections?” Nelson asked.
“How can the pressure control on a pressure cooker not be looked at?”
I told Nelson I was not stepping near that thing when it was over a flame. He bought it; he could have his hands blown off using it. Meanwhile, I would hide under my bed in the fetal position. Yet, the day we first put it to use I found myself in the kitchen, drawn in by curiosity. It sounded like a dying freight train. I swear once it murmured my name. When Nelson went to turn off the stove burner, he wore a long sleeve track jacket, his swimming goggles, and our Peace Corps prescribed lifejacket. I stood in the doorway shouting nonsense. “Remember to release the anti blockage nut!” I screamed. “NO BURSTING!”
The pressure cooker didn’t explode then, and it hasn’t yet. We’ve used it dozens of times. I’ve got more cooking stories to tell, mainly about how we get fresh meat here. I don’t have time to post it today, but hopefully within the upcoming weeks it will be up.
Do you get fresh meat by buying it at a store? If so, I wouldn’t post that. It’s boring.
Thank you Brett for giving me something else to distract me during class. If I miss some crucial information and end up killing a patient, I can always blame it on Cape Verde.
By: Steve on January 23, 2009
at 4:34 pm
Brett: Glad to hear your cooking has improved. Please don’t experiment with pesto … especially with buffalo chicken sausage. They don’t mix. No matter what your father makes. Trust me on this.
By: Bryan on January 23, 2009
at 9:40 pm
My mom used to have a pressure cooker. (Maybe she still does, idk) It always scared me. She used to take a long fork and pull a knob on the top that let off steam so that it wouldn’t explode. I don’t know how to use one because I used to vacate the kitchen when she used it.
By: Deb Helms on January 24, 2009
at 2:50 pm
I am quite excited, can barely hold it in, about you cooking for me when I venture to Cape Verde. Please stock up on the mayonnaise.
By: Alana on January 25, 2009
at 5:22 pm
I like this pressure cooker. It is pretty much the same stuff i use in lab, except with dangerous chemicals, yea, if you dont know what you are doing odds are it can be bad, but great story. Long live science. Hope you arent too skinny brett.
By: barto on January 28, 2009
at 10:53 am
If there are any turtles on Cape Verde, Indians used their shells as pressure cookers in the everglades. That might make for an interesting meal. (Although I doubt the turlte comes with an Antii Blockage Nut)
By: Greg on February 12, 2009
at 5:30 pm
Am I the only person who is clamoring for a recipe for tunapastamayo? I mean, I could just start adding tuna and mayo to pasta, but what if I mess up the ratios and end up creating some sort of horrible, mutant dish called mayotunapasta?
By: Ryd on March 15, 2009
at 12:55 pm