No ordinary lunch

My elderly friends, Margeret and Pascal had been staying overnight at their son’s house nearby. All three of them were going to pick me up at the hotel around 10, to take me to their lovely home, a 45 minute drive north, for lunch.

 When the car turns up, Margeret is not with them. It turns out she has taken one of SL’s overcrowded buses at 6 this morning, to buy the few things their well kempt garden doesn’t provide them with, and to get a head start on preparing the food…

When we finally arrive, she is in full swing. The cobra to be served along with the jack fruit seeds acquired from the garden and now simmering in a pot over an open fire, has already been scraped out of the coconut (also from the garden) by the purpose made scraper in the outdoor part of the kitchen.

The salad, a combination of finely chopped vegetables and fruits is standing on the kitchen counter, and the tuna resembling fish, has been marinated and is now being fried over the simple, but perfectly adequate gas stove. The amazing scents make my mouth water and stomach rumble.

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