A few days ago I hit a low point in my cultural adjustment. I'd occasional feelings of resent towards the walk to and from work through a miasma of toxic fumes; on filthy streets, playing dodgems with dumped rubbish, cars, auto-rickshaws, motorcycles, dead things (I've seen more bodies than Quincy M.D), and excrement.
I also hated not being able to cook what I like. So today I went on a splurge and bought some of my ingredients: oyster sauce, soy sauce, chilli bean sauce, and yellow bean sauce. I made some rice, chicken braised in oyster sauce, green beans tossed in chilli bean sauce, and a red and gold omelette. I saved the stock from the chicken, and used it to make a good old red stew - a Nigerian dish - which I've been having with rice.
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