Gateau Basque

Judging from the name, I’m guessing this pie is from the French side of the border.

I have been trying to step up my baking of late. After all, it has already been 6 months since I got to Rwanda… Which also means that my time here (according to the original plan) is a fourth-way over. It sort of freaks me out how fast time is zooming by. Each day seems to tumble into the next in a fantastically fast-paced gymnastics routine of somersaults and triple flips!

But, on the other hand, I also seem to be going through some sort of a slump. I think the initial “newness” of everything has passed, and I’m going from “Oh, this is new, but I guess this is how it’s done here” to “Crap, not again, when is it going to stop?” Chief among my complaints are a lack of reliable public transportation and faulty internet access at home (and oftentimes at work), and the two elements together are driving me clean crazy. I recently spent three days trying to book a measly plane ticket, something I finally achieved at a coffee shop – which is only accessible by taxi. So it’s not surprising that I’m spending a fortune on taxi fares; last month, I spent nearly as much on taxis as I did on food! This is just not right. I have the numbers of no less than 17 drivers on my phone, and I’m collectively annoyed with all of them for overcharging me (they have a funny custom here where they charge more to regulars… just because they can). Maybe I’ve just been really spoiled in Korea with super fast and cheap connectivity…

As a result, pies are more expensive and harder to coordinate. (This was the point to my very long ramble.) Getting all the ingredients to a pie often feels like sprinkling money along the streets of Kigali. Or across the skies… I brought the almonds (for the sweet almond cookie crust) from Rome and the rum (for the alcohol infused pastry cream filling) from duty-free in Nairobi.

All for this one little pie.

But it does seem enticing!

                It was quite delicious. And hopefully authentic -- I asked a friend who is traveling to Basque country (albeit the Spanish side) to compare and report back. 

When I eat pie, I forget all the work that went into the making. Probably a good enjoyment mechanism…J