(I thought about titling this post "The End of an Era", but that seemed a little too dramatic, even for me.)
I've had this little plastic sachet up in my cabinet for quite a while, baobab fruit (called bouye) from the last time I was in Senegal. Yes, I've been saving it, since I don't know when I'll be able to get more. But one can only save things so long before running the risk of them spoiling somehow. So this evening...
I dump the rest of the powder-covered seeds into a bowl and fill it with water. After they soak a while, I start to work it all with my hand...squeezing, rubbing, swishing, grabbing another handful. The water turns a sort of muted apricot tone, slowly becoming thicker the longer I work the seeds.
Once I've managed to rub all the powder off, I pour it through a strainer to catch the seeds and bits of fiber mixed in. Typically, at this point one adds flavorings, sugar, and milk (powdered or sweetened condensed). Angèle taught me another way to enjoy the juice: sweeten it with honey instead of sugar, leave the milk out, and drink it hot.
I love this way so much. It's tart, even with a generous amount of honey, and like no other drink I've ever had. The warmth is comforting as I hold it in my hands, thinking of Angèle, home, memories of another life.
There's some for tomorrow night, and if I'm lucky, maybe the next night too. After that... Sigh.
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