Diaka. A beautiful Muslim Guinean woman who happens to have been dating my brother (the one that sucks) for a few years. She measures 6 feet and dwarfs me but still, I like her a lot. With time, it seems she has grown accustomed to our crazy family ways. Or has she?
You cannot go to my mom’s house without being fed like a goose. “Eat, it’s love!” is the message you must read between the lines. You pack the pounds and hope that she’ll love you a little less in the future.
My mom offered Diaka a bit of her delicious salmon mousse the other day. Earlier my mother had asked her if she wanted to drink a mint tea and gave her hot water with mint leaves and not a trace of tea.
At this point, Diaka should have been slightly suspicious, but salmon mousse sounded great. And it was. You spread it on a toast (made with real bread not like in the US) and it is light and very tasty. Diaka thanked my mom and told her how much she was appreciating the treat.
My mom then casually mentioned: “I was really lucky, they had such good ham at the butcher this morning.” That’s when Diaka choked and promptly excused herself.
My mom just turned 75. I guess she cannot be trusted around people on a strict halal diet. Salmon – ham, same color eh! Almost the same, right?