Afghan bread

As observed in one of my previous posts, it seems that in this period I cannot refrain myself from writing posts on food. This post is on Afghan food. Or, better, on Afghan bread.

From the Indian ‘tandoori’, to the Pakistani ‘tabak’, to the Afghan ‘kebabs’ - I have to say I am still not very fond of the cuisine of the ‘sub-continent’, as they call it here (and who knows if I will ever be). And if you know me, you should know that if I don’t like it, I don’t eat it*.

Of course there are international restaurants in Kabul (we went to a Lebanese restaurant a couple of evenings ago that was the end of the world!), but if - as it happened often in the past days - you are confined to your guest house for security reasons, well, you have to be satisfied with what the guest house's canteen offers you. Which basically means that I often prefer to skip my meals.

Luckily I discovered the Afghan bread, or naan. Well, it has not been that difficult, as Kabul has plenty of street-shops that hang these breads as ham legs in a western gastronomy. Whatever, I absolutely became addicted to the Afghan bread, to the extent that my breakfasts, lunches, afternoon snacks and dinners are now almost entirely made of naan.

So, mums (plural as I discovered Mathilde’s mum is worried as well), don’t worry: your son (or son-in-law) is regularly eating, and will be soon back home without having lost too much weight…

(*) Davide must have taken it from someone in the family, after all…