The journey is as much fun as the destination

Sr. Pauline and I made homemade pasta yesterday. I doubt if many, if any, other people in Kenya make their own homemade pasta. Sister didn’t even know what homemade pasta was before I showed her, but she is now an expert pasta maker — an honorary Italian.

Sr. Pauline is one of my (and the other Maryknoll Lay Missioners here in Mombasa) dear friends and a close collaborator of mine in my HOPE ministry work. Sr. Pauline is the Director of the Pontifical Missionary Societies (PMS) in the Archdiocese of Mombasa.  Her congregation, the Daughters of Divine Love, lets us use their facilities for tutorials and other HOPE actives such as uniform measurements and distributions as well as handing out food to needy families.

The key to the whole pasta making endeavor was a pasta maker. I never expected to see one in Kenya. I have one of my own stored in my sister’s basement in Rhode Island along with the rest of my wordy possessions, but that is half a world away. It’s not that you can’t make pasta without a pasta maker. Obviously people made pasta long before pasta makers were invented, but making pasta completely by hand without any equipment is even more work than I’m willing to put in. This from the person who has always loved pasta, or macaroni as Rhode Island Italians more popularly call it, as evidenced from the one memory that sticks with me from my childhood. When I was making my first communion, my dad asked me what I wanted to have for Sunday dinner that day. My immediate and unequivocal answer was ravioli. As macaroni is technically defined as dried pasta, I suppose what Sr. Pauline and I made should accurately be called pasta and not macaroni. I’ll save the Italian gravy (meat sauce for those not Italian) conversation for another day.

So what is a pasta maker doing in Kenya? Well, it turns out that the other sister who lives with Sr. Pauline is Nigerian. Sr. Chinekwu makes a number of different kinds of delicious snacks like roasted nuts. Another snack that she makes is called chin chin.  Chin chin is a popular Nigerian fried snack made from dough cut into small pieces and deep fried until crunchy. I love chin chin and often get it, as well as roasted nuts, from Sr. Chinekwu.

One day I was visiting Sr. Pauline and we were sitting down having chai (Kenyan tea made with milk). Lo and behold, I saw a pasta maker on top of the cabinet where the dishes and glasses are stored. What is that I asked and went over to take a closer look. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It turns out that Sr. Chinekwu had brought the pasta maker from Nigeria and uses it to make the chin chin. I had just assumed that she made the chin chin completely by hand (again, requiring more patience than I would ever have).

I told sister that this was really a pasta maker and that we had to make homemade pasta. Ever since that time, sister had been asking to make the homemade pasta I told her about and yesterday was the day. The one challenge we had is that the sisters do not have a measuring cup, which was unimaginable to me or I would have brought one from home. This meant we had to eyeball everything. This necessitated bit of finagling with the amount of flour to get the right consistency, but we eventually worked it out. We just made a simple tomato sauce to put on the pasta. I brought basil and oregano with me as Kenyans are not really familiar with these herbs and so don’t stock have them in their pantries. Of course, we used real, not canned, tomatoes, for the sauce. The meal came out delicious (especially given the flour debacle that we had to overcome) and sister loved it. We made two batches of pasta so that we could share with others. I never imagined I would be enjoying homemade pasta in Mombasa, Kenya.

Although I sometimes do it, making pasta (or ravioli for that matter) is typically not the kind of thing I like doing alone. To me cooking, especially something like making pasta, is much more enjoyable doing with someone else. What better thing is there than cooking with someone then sitting down together and enjoying the fruits of your labor. I often cook with my sister. While that’s on hold until I return home, it’s something I’m very much looking forward to doing together again.

Maybe the world would be a better place if we all started cooking together.

Mungu ni mwema. God is good.