Pitting Colonized against Colonizer in a French Fry Faceoff
I thought that my layover in Brussels was going to spoil me -- prevent me from properly appreciating the Rwandan frites that I eagerly anticipated would be the staple of my diet for the coming 7 weeks.
For my 14-hour Bruxelles stop, I planned to stay with a dear friend from graduate school. I knew that even with this limited time, in her hands I would experience the very best in Belgian beer halls and frite kots (Flemish for "french fry cottage"). But as thrilled as I was to sip some beer and for the first time sample the authentic Belgian pomme frite on Brussels soil, I was secretly rooting for Rwanda's frites in the faceoff that I planned between evil colonizer and former colony. During my trip to Rwanda in 2004 I gorged on this ubiquitous starchy snack. Now, I wanted to see how it held up against its culinary origins.
While the french fry may be one of the only positive contributions that the former Belgian colonists made to Rwanda, I wondered if the quality and taste of the Rwandan fry had actually surpassed and exceeded the frites of its origins. Plus, as a fan of the underdog I felt that Belgium already has the world's attention when it comes to french fries and beer. I was hoping to reposition the spotlight to give Rwanda the attention it deserves.
Jetlagged and weary from a nap I shouldn't have taken, I follow Miss JvR-B as she graciously steers me down the cobblestoned streets. I'm grateful that I don't need to keep track of the street names and turns we take so I can concentrate on catching up with her. But since I'm not actually paying attention I neglected to note the name of the stall where we land. I am handed a greasy cone filled with golden treasures, coated in a oozing dallop of mayonnaise. A tiny fork is plunged into the mayonnaise glob, there allegedly to prevent your fingers from getting coated in oil. I skip the fork and take the plunge with my fingers.
There are many reasons why Belgian french fries are so good. One trick is the thick, easily grippable cut of the potato. Another is the technique where the potato sticks are fried in beef fat, not once, but twice. But as I would later find out when I arrived in Rwanda, the reason the frites eating experience is superior in Rwanda versus Belgium is not the fry itself. Rather, it's the dipping sauce for the fry. In Rwanda I ate mayonnaise like none I had ever tasted. It's rich and eggy and yellow. Who knew a simple condiment could elevate a greasy snack to such a praise-worthy level?
