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Dear Mr. Bittman,
I’m writing to you on behalf of my brother Scott, a Peace Corps volunteer in
I just returned home from visiting him in
Along with the enclosed letter, he asked me to send you a sample of Mozambican dried fish, which we purchased for you at the market in Ribáuè, the village where he lives. Unfortunately, I’m sorry to say that I was not successful in my attempt to smuggle the rather pungent parcel past customs officials on my way back to the
I have, however, included a few photos to give you a sense of what we’re dealing with.
If you would like to contact my brother directly, here is his address in
Scott Brennen /
He does, occasionally, have internet access [when he travels]. On those occasions he can be reached at: scottbrennen@gmail.com
Alternatively, I would be happy to facilitate any further communication and can be reached at the following:
Andrea Brennen / 21 Avon St. #1 /
Thank you in advance for your help. He, I, and our mother are all grateful. We worry about him over there, y’know?
Yours,
Andrea Brennen
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Dear Mr. Bittman;
Can I call you Mark? Good. Mark, I need your help.
You see Mark, I live in the Bush and there isn’t much to eat. I am a Peace Corps Volunteer in rural in-land
And here is where you come in – you see, there is, in fact, another protein source. Mark, have you ever eaten Mozambican dried fish? Let me try to describe the experience.
Let’s start with bones. Lots of ‘em. Little bones, sharp bones, bones you can chew, bones you can’t. Bones that scratch as they go down; bones that scratch as they come back up. Next, add the smell of nearly rotten fish. No, not fully rotten, but you know everything one could hate about fish? Imagine that in concentrate. It smells like a practical joke, or like an afternoon fishing trip gone bad. It smells like forgetting your pet guinea pig in the basement for a month. Defeat, humiliation; yes, it even smells like Death. Now, salt. So much it makes you cry. Dirty, crunchy sea salt: big grains, little grains. It finds holes, it gets in deep. You taste it as you sleep.
So there it is, the three-part essence of Mozambican dried fish: salty, fishy bones. And here’s where I need your expertise: help me find a way to make this local product palatable. I could appeal to your sense of pity for a young American volunteering out in the Bush, but instead I appeal to your sense of exploration, of adventure. Let’s call it a challenge, perhaps your greatest ever: craft a good simple recipe for dried fish using nothing but a charcoal stove and locally grown foods. That means no electricity, no refrigerator, and no fancy kitchen equipment. I will include a list of what other ingredients are generally available here. Don’t worry, it will be short. Here in
Thank you and good luck.
Yours,
Scott Brennen
P.S. In case you want to try some, here’s some dried fish.
Generally Available Ingredients:
Dried fish; infinite variety
Piri-piri chili
Tomatoes
Onions
Green petters
Oil
Salt
Chicken stock
Peanuts
Coconut
Sugar, sugar cane
Grans: wheat, rice, corn, millet, sorghum, cassava
Sweet and regular potatoes
Greens: collard, pumpkin, sweet potato, cassava, mustard, cauliflower
Bananas
Pasta
White bread
Assorted beans
Eggs
Rats, grasshoppers, flying termites – yes, people eat these
Dried mangoes
Sometimes Available:
Instant coffee
Tea
Powdered milk / Sweetened condensed milk
Pumpkin
Okra
Lettuce
Carrots
Papaya
I have these spices from home:
Cumin
Curry
Garam masala
Rosemary
Basil
Oregano
Caraway
Thyme
Marjoram
Cinnamon
Ginger
Soy sauce
Chili powder
