This morning it was a brisk 12 degrees Celsius. In the living room. Never mind that it was -10C last night outside; I'm holed up in the bedroom till it warms up again. We've got another cold snap this week, with the possibility for snow again on Wednesday. You know that last party guest that just doesn't know when it's time to go home? Yeah, that's Winter. No offense, Winter, please go home, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
Saturday night we met three friends downtown for dinner at a small Sengalese restaurant. I've never had African food before, and I was pleasantly surprised. I had grilled chicken with onions with a spicy sauce called Yaffa, there were a couple of orders of Maffe, which was lamb cooked in a savory tomato based sauce, there was an order of grilled seafood, and an order of grilled ostrich. We all enjoyed the meal immensely. The only small thing was the main dishes in the menu were translated into bad English for tourists: cacahuètes (peanuts) were translated as "groundnuts," and mouton (lamb) was translated as "beef." The groundnuts thing doesn't bother me so much, but beef will never be lamb, as much as it tries. I hope some unsuspecting tourist doesn't lose their mind over their funny tasting beef.
The other funny thing (to me) is that yesterday Steph was complaining that a couple of things on their menu weren't available Saturday night. I don't remember which of the deserts it was, but his main complaint was that the grilled antilope wasn't available. I can't imagine why; it's not like the chef can run down to Carrefour to pick up some extra antilope when he runs out.
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