Food

At some point during any discussion about food in Egypt, somebody invariably mentions, in an apologetic tone that, "Well, the cucumbers are really good here." The cucumbers are, in fact, delicious in Egypt. They are smaller than cucumbers we used to buy in the States. They are firm, slightly sweet, and form a respectable anchor to a delightful cucumber salad - so long as the generally rancid tasting onions don't ruin it for you.

 I like felafel too. But I don't love felafel. Well perhaps I am falling out of love with felafel, if it ever really was love. In fact, if I never ate another felafel sandwich again for the rest of my life that would be alright. Shewerma can be tasty, but it is a sad substitute for its distant latin cousin, the taco al pastor. It is not even worthy to be served next to the gyro, or any of the other many skewered and grilled meat sandwiches that deliciously feed the rest of the world.

 It is really not fair to compare Egypt to Mexico, particularly in the area of food. Still, as that is the only other foreign country where I have lived during my adult life, it is impossible not to make such comparisons. Comparing Mexico to Egypt is like putting FC Barcelona up against the Miller Middle School boys soccer team. Actually, the San Marcos boys would probably play harder and they have at least seen good soccer on TV. I'm not certain that most Egyptians have ever had a really good meal. They certainly love to eat, which seems odd considering how terrible most of the food here is. Servings in Egyptian restaurants rival those in America in their excessive size, if not in their appealing flavor. At a restaurant one can expect to be served a giant bowl of pasta drowned in slightly soured cream sauce or a half dozen sad, fatty meatballs. It is as though the cooks are working from recipes that were written in ounces and pounds without making the conversions and reductions for their kilo scales. As a result, many Egyptians, particularly wealthier ones, are rather chubby. On the bright side, the service in most restaurants is even more wanting the food. As such, you likely will never be served half of what you order anyway.

 One way in which Mexico and Egypt are similar is that you will never find the best food in restaurants. Mexican restaurants, within Mexico, are generally pretty underwhelming. Though they have ambiance, the food is typically uninspired. If you want to sample the best of Mexico you have two options... get invited into someone's home or hit the streets. While street food here pales in comparison to the brilliance of Mexican street food, it is where you will find the most economical and palatable (if slightly dangerous) meals. I mentioned shewerma above. It is not awful. You should know that if suffers the brutality of my memory. When I was in Egypt as a teenager, I delighted in stepping up to the shewerma stands and requesting five or six of the little meaty sandwiches in somewhat passable Arabic. I was rewarded with little yeasty rolls, split and filled with grilled meat, sauteed onions and tomato, and a big dollop of tahini. Twenty five years later and armed with even less Arabic, they taste somewhat rancid and bitter, like nostalgia tends to when you are ankle deep in the garbage you never noticed as a child.

 The felafel is arguably good, really good. If you go to a stand that is busy, it will be hot and fresh. There is something of the chaotic and energetic vibe one feels at a taco stand when you are buying felafel from a truly hopping vendor. People are calling out orders, cooks sing replies, sandwiches are hastily wrapped in paper and delivered to eager hands. The sandwiches typically cost about forty cents apiece, sweetening the experience with thrift. The lack of meat and deeply fried food enhances one's chance of survival, which is also a nice perk considering the state of medical care in Egypt. Felafel is definitely the best choice for someone who wants the eat the most flavorful and cheapest that Egypt has to offer and live to tell about it. That said, I just don't love it. Under spiced and deeply fried chick peas just don't move me, although the bread is quite good.

One time I tried what is reputed to be a 'delicacy' here in Cairo - stuffed pigeon. Aside from being small and bony, it tasted remarkably like rat. I could tell you about koshari, but I'd rather let someone who actually enjoys this starchy mess of beans and too much macaroni do to the honors. Their is fuul, which is Arabic for, 'awful bean taco'. All this talk of Egyptian cuisine is making me feel overly negative. Did I mention that the cucumbers are really, really good here?