Eggs in Bamako
Brunch is a decadent meal. It is breakfast with the added benefit of sleeping in. It is socially acceptable drinks before noon. But Bamako is not (at least on my pay scale) a decadent city. It is hot. It is dusty. I have yet to see a single person carry a toy dog in a Gucci purse.
I have lived in Bamako for nine months with my girlfriend. Weekend mornings are typically my turn to cook. I enjoy whipping up breakfast and I typically do it late, sometimes with an Irish coffee. While this may sound brunch-like, in my opinion, labor goes against the very essence of brunch.
We had heard there was a bed-and-breakfast that did brunches in Bamako, but it was on the other side of the city and, as a rule, we try to avoid braving Bamako’s traffic any time before noon. Yet here I was, in a rattling taxi, listening to my girlfriend direct the taxi driver. The drive up to Comme Chez Soi did not inspire confidence. The unpaved streets had craters, unattended donkeys wandered aimlessly, and a muscular guard in a too-tight T-shirt stood near a nondescript door.
Upon stepping through the threshold, I was greeted by a lush green that almost hurt my eyes. Tall trees provided shade and kept out the noise of the city. We climbed the stairs to the open-air restaurant. The tables were plain wood and the dining area was clean, well lit, and decorated with numerous Malian statues. A few feet from our table, a band played jazzy blues.
I ordered the “Eggs Benedict au saumon fumé” and an iced coffee. When our plates arrived, I saw I had chosen wisely. The usual English muffin had been swapped in favor of lightly toasted slices of baguette. The crust still crackled, and the bread retained just a slightly chewy sweetness which offset the briny tang of the salmon and the creamy hollandaise sauce. The egg was poached to perfection; the yolk did not so much run as casually stroll after I cut into it. The only ingredients in my iced coffee were ice, cream, sugar, and a shot of espresso, letting the quality of the coffee shine through. I ordered another, with a Bloody Mary to counteract the extra caffeine.
After each song, the band members chit-chatted with us while they sipped their drinks and dragged on their cigarettes. I felt sated, pampered, a true epicurean. I decided to help myself to some apple crumble.