Cuisine

My diet in Kabul is extremely predictable with a few radical exceptions. For my main meal, everyday I walk to the campus dining hall with a few faculty and an occasional student. For 25 Afghanis (50 US cents) patrons receive a small paper ticket which is immediately turned over to an aged group of gentlemen who serve up a large pile of pilau (rice with raisins, bits of carrot, and a lot of oil), a small dallop of vegetables (greens or some kidney beans) half a piece of naan and a cup of consume with coriander. At home friends often comment at how fast I eat, but here I struggle to keep up - lunch rarely lasts 15 minutes and we're out of there.
Lunch had been subsidized so that it cost only 5 Afghanis (10 US cents) but the price has steadily risen, and only last week the price rose from 20 Afghanis because the University no longer covers the cost of firewood to cook the meal. A few days ago some faculty and I arrived late for lunch and the doors were closed, so we ambled outside the walled campus to the street to buy 'burgers' from a vendor. These consisted of a small sliver of some soy-based patty, wrapped in a pile of grease-soaked french fries wrapped in a piece of naan and doused in some kind of homemade pickle. Back in the office, the 'burgers' somehow had the effect of making us all slump to one side on the couch so we had to put out an arm for extra support. It took several cups of tea to sit up straight again.
Meanwhile, with the burgeoning ex-pat community, there is a strong incentive to appeal to diverse tastes. Last week I met a friend for dinner at 'La Cantina'. A couple nights ago I had good Korean food, and today I had lunch at a French bistro. These places serve up 'novelty' as much as anything, and cater almost entirely to foreigners. They are advertised by word of mouth and have nondescript entrances. La Cantina lies on a small, dusty street and the entrance is marked only by a small hut full of armed gaurds. Patrons are searched before they enter an open air courtyard full of flowers, Mexican kitsch on the walls and salsa music in the background.
The ex-pat restaurants are an interesting change of pace, but so is the experience of a 'burger' on the street. Today I picked up an advert card for "Pizza Brasil". This might be pushing the envelope, but if I go I'll write a review.