Pasta Melanzane
I first had Pasta Melanzane at a wonderful restaurant near my home in Wiesbaden, Germany. We were always looking for the best Italian restaurant we could find, and when we found Marcello’s, we stopped looking. No matter what we ate there, the food was delicious. Melanzane, by the way, means eggplant, or aubergine. I always use that word because a lot of people think they don’t like eggplant.
I tried hard to duplicate Marcello’s Pasta Melanzane, but the more I added, the weirder it would get. In the end, my very best results came from keeping things simple and fresh:
Pasta Melanzane
1 fairly large eggplant, cut into fingers about 1/2 inch, like french fries
6 – 10 cloves of garlic, peeled, chopped
olive oil
2 packets / small cans tomato paste
1 Tablespoon (1 large glop) finely chopped sun dried tomatoes
(red pepper flakes – optional)
water to thin
Put the eggplant fingers in a colander (bowl shaped strainer) and sprinkle with salt. Leave half an hour, rinse with water and dry with paper towels. You do this because sometimes eggplant can be bitter, and this takes away the bitterness.
Put some olive oil – maybe 2 Tablespoons – in a deep frying pan and heat, add chopped garlic and heat until garlic is softened. If you are using red pepper flakes, add those in now, too, and let them soften with the garlic.
Add the eggplant fingers, turn the heat way down, add a little more olive oil and cook slowly until the eggplant is also softened all the way through.
Meanwhile, mix the tomato paste, chopped sun dried tomato pieces, and some water into sauce.
(If you are in a place where you can legally use red wine, you can use a cup or so in place of some of the water. I have also used pomegranate juice, but it is not quite the same.)
Add the sauce to the eggplant, put on a spatter guard (You can find them at the Sultan Center and sometimes in the souks – they are a round screen with a handle that keeps sauce from splashing all over your stove) and turn the gas down to the very lowest it will go.
Set the timer for 30 minutes, and go about your business. Keep checking every 30 minutes, give it a stir, add a little more liquid if it needs it, give it a taste.
When it is ready, turn the burner off. This sauce just gets better and better as it mellows.
When it is time to serve dinner, boil a pot of pasta and re-heat the melanzane sauce at the same time. Because it is a strong sauce, you can use strong pastas, like penne, to serve it over.
Chongwe River Camp, Zambezi, Zambia
I used to be such an organized person. I had a responsible job where I juggled many important things. I had meetings and messages, and events and proposal deadlines, and somehow, I did it all, and I did it well.
Now that I have somewhat less to handle, I don’t handle it as well. I am too relaxed. I don’t obsess about details, I don’t wake up in the middle of the night gasping about something I may have forgotten, I don’t even keep a notepad by the side of my bed to write things down that wake me in the night.
When I was making arrangements for this trip, AdventureMan said to add on a few days at the Chongwe River Lodge, so I told the travel guy at Robin Pope Safaris to book us at the Chongwe River Lodge. Then, I just paid what the invoice said and never thought about it again. If you go to the RPS page, it will show you Chongwe River HOUSE, and that is where we thought we were staying. When we arrived, we were a little disconcerted to discover we were at the Chongwe River Camp, not the house, but our tent/cabin faced a pod of hippos, and we were immediately enchanted, and sometimes things happen for a reason, you know? We knew we were there for a reason, and just relaxed and enjoyed what the camp had to offer.
And oh, WOW, what the camp had to offer. First, every tent is situated to have a fabulous view, and the front of the tent is all clear net, you CAN close it if you want to, but you don’t have to, you have absolute privacy with on one looking in. They have a wide range of activities, lots of water sports, fishing, kayaking, hiking, fly camping . . . so much to do! Or . . . you can do nothing at all, too.
Our view overlooked a pod of hippos. All day and all night long, we could hear hippos. In the middle of the night, a hippo mom and a baby hippo were grazing two feet from the entrance to our tent – when I got up to watch, they quickly slipped back into the water.
That might disturb some people, but it totally enchants me! I was told some people get grumpy because they can’t sleep, that they request earplugs . . . I cannot imagine. I love the sounds, and somehow, it makes me feel safer inside knowing wild things are roaming around at night. I’ve always felt human beings were the far more dangerous threat than the animals.
So I will bore you with a bunch of photos, and you will see the things I love – details of the tents and lounge and dining areas, and photos that I wish had sound attached so you could be lulled to sleep by the laughter of the hippos.
This is the Chongwe River airport:
This is the airstrip we flew into – you can see elephant dung all over the strip, but there were no elephants on the strip when we flew in:
Zambia was experiencing a huge airplane fuel crisis while we were there, so flights were being consolidated. One night, there was NO fuel at any of the major airfields. Here us the fuel storage at Chongwe:
This is my idea of camping – king size bed, good sheets, a great bathroom and a great view of hippos:
The bathroom! Can you see why I enjoy camping so much? The shower has a European style flash heater – so practical, and you get hot water in a heartbeat without burning a lot of trees.
Storage/clothing shelves in the bedroom. Rooms come with flashlights, insect repellant sprays, and a whistle in case you feel in danger:
Dining in the bush – and the food was great. Because it is the middle of winter in Zambia, nights can be chilly, and we had charcoal braziers between diners at night to keep us from shivering. It was toasty warm! When we would get back to our tents, there would be hot water bottles warming our beds, so we could just jump in.
The coffee/tea/hot chocolate bar, with French press Zambian coffee, yummmmm:
This is how the camp would look at night when we would come back from a game drive or a boating trip – purely magic, with all the twinkling candles. The camp offers fishing, hiking, game drives, kayaking, all kinds of activities, or . . . just chilling:
This is the lounge area and library in the daytime:
These are “my” hippos – oh, this just made my time at Chongwe River Camp, hearing their laughter, hearing their arguements. Just up the river all the animals would come down to drink at dusk. I could sit and take photos and never intrude on them – warthogs, impala, elephant, waterbuck, geese, heron, egret, ibis . . . and lots of baboon.
We saw everything on our game drives, but I will start with the great Kudu, because finding a male kudu not shyly running away is a great treat:
I think this lion finds tourists boring – he and his wives endured our presence for about 45 minutes before ambling off to another shady glen:
This was a great thrill for me – an elephant swimming to one of the Zambezi islands. Don’t worry, I was using my great telephoto, I was not that close. We did not bother the elephant, we kept our distance.
Here is the big guy safely on his island:
And just look at this guy! He was a big as a HUMMER! Our guide said he had seen even bigger on the Zambezi. (gulp!)
The Zambia Adventure Begins
AdventureMan and I were watching Kite Runner, which we thought did a really great job on an amazing book, when we could hear our VOIP phone ring. I ran, because I broke the message-taking phone, and if I don’t get to this one by the fifth ring it goes to a message place online that I have trouble accessing.
It was our son, from the Atlanta airport, en route to Lusaka with his beautiful bride, just calling to let us know he is on the way.
We went back and watched the movie, but I had one of those nagging thoughts that just wouldn’t leave me alone.
As soon as the movie ended, I turned on the computer and checked our trip folder. . . hmmmm. I thought we were all meeting up in Johannisburg, but it seems like they are leaving awfully early. I check, and sure enough . . . I have totally screwed up. They are arriving in Johannisburg a day before we are! I have only made reservations for one night!
I quickly call our son back, and as he answers, I can hear someone in the background saying “I need your passport” and I quickly tell him the situation, and to my great surprise, he just laughs. “I need for you to be flexible,” I say, “I am going to try to contact the hotel and the Robin Pope Safari people to make sure you have a room when you arrive, but we won’t be there! Find a shuttle to the Taj Pamodzi and I will do everything I can to make sure you have a room waiting there!”
Again, he laughs and says they will be fine.
I can’t believe it. I’ve just told him he is going to a totally strange city and he doesn’t know the city and may or may not have a hotel room waiting and he just laughs. He is boarding the plane when we hang up, en route on a grueling Delta Airlines flight that leaves Atlanta for Dakar, Senegal en route to Johannesburg, South Africa.
When we all finally meet up in Lusaka, they tell us the whole story.
The night before they are to leave, our son gets a call from CheapTickets telling them they no longer have tickets. The flight they were on from Pensacola to Atlanta was rescheduled, and somehow, it caused all the reservations to be cancelled.
Smart guy that he is, he grabs his bride and they hustle to the airport to deal with Delta directly. A very kind and patient woman re-writes and re-issues the entire ticket, and the next day, they are on their way, but not without some very bad moments between being told their tickets are no good and finding the good Delta woman who can fix everything.
Meanwhile, I write to both the hotel and Robin Pope Safaris grovelling in mortification – it is totally MY fault that I didn’t get the dates right, not their problem, but I sure could use their help. By the next day – the day we are departing – I hear from both, telling me that a room will be waiting for them. Al hamd’allah, we breathe a sigh of relief, and hope that all the plane connections go smoothly.
RPS has a great guy, Dave, to meet us on arrival at Lusaka and to help us get our visas and to get as quickly as possible to the hotel, so we can meet up with our son and his bride.
It is such a relief. When you plan a trip like this, there are no guarantees everything will go smoothly – and it doesn’t. That’s a big part of the adventure. When son and bride got to Johannesburg, they were told they did NOT have seats on the flight to Lusaka, but at the very last minute, they were sent Business Class. We are sitting in the bar, whooping with laughter as we hear all the near misses, all the . . .hmmm. . . “adventures” that went into us all experiencing this miracle, the four of us in Lusaka together.
You know me and photos:
Lusaka International Airport
Lusaka at night
Lusaka by day
Taj Pamodzi Hotel
And you know how I like signs to capture the flavor of a place:
One little postscript – I often use Trip Advisor when planning a trip, especially chosing hotels or places to shop or sites to be sure to visit. If I had listened to Trip Advisor, I probably wouldn’t have stayed at the Taj Pamodzi; several reviewers were very negative. Our experience was just the opposite. People could not have been more friendly, more helpful. They were equally friendly and helpful to our son and his bride the 24 hours they were there without us. The front desk people were efficient and professional, the restaurant and bar service was supurb and we were very satisfied.
The Worst Thing About The Best Vacation
“This is the BEST vacation we’ve ever had,” AdventureMan said to me, and I agreed.
The only problem with the best vacation we have ever had, ever, is coming back to normality.
I might be a little slow getting up and running, my friends, as the Qatteri Cat needs a lot of snuggling, the laundry needs doing (hate to wash out the smell of the campfires), I am planning for the next trip, and even the one after that (details details details, but cars need to be reserved, hotel reservations made, doctor appointments, visits with friends and family . . ) and oh yeh, guess we might be needing some groceries!
I wasn’t planning to blog today, but when I saw all your comments, I was a goner.
Have you noticed there is more time in your day when you are not blogging?
Summer Break
Dear friends, AdventureMan is whisking me off on a summer break holiday. We will be totally out of reach – no computers, no telephones – for a while. I expect to be back around the beginning of July.
See you then!
Doha Nightlife
AdventureMan could hardly wait to show me the change in the very heart of Doha. When I lived in Doha, the Souk al Waqif / Iranian souk was off limits to most Americans, considered a very traditional place, and a dangerous place for a casual visitor.
Of course I went! I have found that if you dress modestly and behave respectably, you have little to worry about in Qatar, or Kuwait, or even Saudi Arabia. People are gracious and kind, and you find the most interesting things – tools for the old coffee roasting braziers, old weavings, old pieces of hand crafted silver . . . you just have to take your time and look.
My favorite booth in the old Doha souks was the man who hand embroidered the men’s bisht, and who pounded the silver flat with a leather covered hammer. I loved the colorful scribe’s booths – sadly, now missing, in the interest of a much larger parking lot for the souks.
Oh! The changes!
They have totally updated the souks – put in reliable electricity and running water, and did not raise the rents for the merchants. Painted everything, gave it a historically accurate facade, put covers over the walking paths made of the old beams and palm branches to shield shoppers from the heat.
But the most amazing change of all is the nightlife. The square where the hardware merchants used to vend their nails and chains and locks, where the shoemakers would mend and polish your shoes is gone, and in it’s place are multiple restaurants and cafes, interspersed with antique shops, specialty shops: people who carve miniature dhows and sailing ships, a shop for sharp edged swords and khanjars, a shop specializing in custom made eqals (the black band that holds the gutra on the head; Qatteris have long tassles coming from the eqal down the back), a couple places for smoking the narghila, and assorted souvenir shops.
Restaurants! Bright twinkling lights! The smell of roasted meats and fresh fruit drinks! Places to sit out in the courtyard, the sounds of laughter . . . Doha has a nightlife!
In the midst of the bright lights, the shops, the restaurants and music, there is a police station, and I think it is brilliant – the police dress in traditional clothing:
Palm Island
There used to be a resort out on Palm Island, with a couple restaurants, a swimming area, an amusement park and boats that took the trip out there and back every half hour or so. Now, it’s all gone, flattened. All that is left of Palm Island is this:
And it isn’t even a palm tree!
Truck Loading in Doha
We don’t know what is in these huge sacks; we see the same in Kuwait and think it may be cement on the way to be mixed – or sand to mix with the cement. They are not secured. It may be that the sheer weight of whatever is inside glues it to the truck bed, but we don’t want to be anywhere near these trucks when they go around a sharp curve – or a roundabout.
Here is a close-up. You can see they are not secured in any visible way:
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