ZamFood

     ZamSomething is a very common trade name. There's ZamBeef, ZamChick, ZamShu, ZamFoot, Zamtel, Zambart, ZamNET, ZamPost, and the list continues. If I was going to start a barbeque and bowling franchise, I might call it Zambe-que (though the CEO of our partner thinks Strikes and Spares is better).

So far, ZamFood is pretty good. As a start, let's talk about their obsession with cured pig. First imagine your local super market's meat aisle; what percentage would you say is dedicated to bacon?  2%, 3%, maybe 5%? In Chipata, it's 50%. That's right, a full half. They have shoulder bacon, back bacon, lean bacon, streaky bacon, beef bacon, shoulder bacon. I thought Americans had an obsession, but it pales in comparison. Right next to the bacon, another 10% of their meats are sausages. There's probably enough nitrates in the water supply to fuel an algae bloom.

Thanks to British imperialism, large numbers of Indians call Zambia home. I've been to two of Chipata's Indian restaurants and have heard there's at least a half dozen. The food is authentic, spicy, and does that thing, you know the thing; it does it. I've had lamb three different ways, chicken another two and then this Punjabi goat in spinach. Wow, Punjabi goat in spinach is pretty darn good, who knew I had to go to a land-locked country in southern Africa to find out.

And thanks again to British imperialism, the cracker aisle is stocked! And so is the baked bean aisle. And so is the taffy aisle. But fun fact, there aren't many British brands as most processed food is imported from South Africa. I don't know if its a British imperialism thing, but there are also a whopping three grocery stores in town, ensuring there are enough dried wheat disks for everyone.

When I run out of bacon, there's pizza on demand. For a cool $8, one can get an entire pie with the works delivered to your door. It may not be the Italian-style I was accustomed to in Germany (*clears throat with a European accent*), but they would give a certain small-town Dominos a run for their money. Their star innovation is sweet and sour chicken pizza. As a former college student, I was actually surprised to experience a new (and enjoyable) pizza flavor.

And then there's the Portuguese chicken. If you've had Nando's, you know what I'm hinting at. But imagine, for one sad second, that Nando's wasn't a chain. Imagine if Nando's was a grandmother running a catering business out of her garage.  And then imagine if the secret sauce was truly secret, like you couldn't ever buy a bottle of the stuff. That the only way to get that flavor would be to knock on her door and ask if there was any chicken left. For this reason alone, I have to come back to Chipata.

And if that wasn't enough, there's Zambezi-style. Every day, Alisa fires up the grill and cooks lunch at our partner company. There's a big pot of nshima, white as a lily. A little pot of roller meal that tastes like sour grits. A pot of greens cooked in onions and tomatoes. And then the meats. Sausage of course, but also T-bone steaks, roasted pork, fried fish, Peri-Peri chicken, a mess of stewed eggs. So many different kinds of dishes; flavored with herbs, pepper, a dash of heat, and served with savory tomato sauce. 

I'm going to come back with a belly.