Aargoosato Sawaaxili (Lobster in Coconut Milk)

Aargoosato Sawaaxili (Lobster in Coconut Milk)

Literally, “Aargoosato Sawaaxili” means “Swahili Lobster.” This dish definitely goes back with the history of Mogadishu, which was part of the Swahili culture until 1907 when it was officially sold to the Italians by the Omani Kingdom. It’s no surprise that the city’s oldest neighborhood, Shangaani, is directly related to this culture. Imagine my surprise when I found out there was such a people in northern Mozambique that are actually called the Shangaan people! One wonders if these people had occupied this neighborhood in its hey day?

I was nine years old the first time I clearly remember eating this dish. It was March, when the city is the hottest and driest, and I remember how the spices broke a sweat out of me. I remember the relief I felt, the breeze.  On hot summer days, the Somalis flee to the ocean, especially in the late afternoon. As the sun sets, all sorts of vendors would do their seafood in and around the beaches. 

One early evening, right before it was getting dark, my friends and I were walking back on Corso Somalia, near Piazza 4 Novembre, and there we met a vendor who was making some fast meals. He was clearly Baajuun, which is a tribe that still speaks Swahili, and he made this dish for us. I remember being impressed. I couldn’t believe how fast he made that, not more than ten minutes. 

“Here,” he handed me my plate. “You will love this.”

His name was Hajji Abdallah, and he won me over that evening as a long time customer. It became a tradition to stop by his little restaurant on wheels, and it was delight to listen to the stories of a man whom I would grow to respect.  He had told me so many stories, and somehow they always revolved around the Hajj. He had gone to the pilgrimage in Mecca at age 22, accompanying his old father, and was proud to have gotten the “Hajji” title at a young age.

Before becoming a pilgrim, his mother had taught him how to make the majority of the dishes she knew-- in case he failed to find a wife. She had done this with all of her sons, Hajji Abdallah would tell me. Fortunately for his mother, the Hajji did find a young woman at age 20, and had made his mother a grandmother by the time he had returned from the pilgrimage.

“I cook these dishes with love,” he would say. “Love for my mother, for my people, and for my country.” 

Once, he told me how the woman he had married didn’t really know how to cook. He would say she knew how to make a great tea, but nothing beyond that. By the time they had their sons, he had taught her everything he had learned from his mother.

“A great husband teaches,” he would smile. “A great husband teaches.”

I was fascinated by all of that. I loved to cook, but the women in my family believed a man should not cook. I would have had to protest and make a scandal in order to be allowed to even mix things, or stir the pot. 

But Hajji Abdallah inspired me.

After months and months, having failed over and over with the right amounts to use because he never measured in his cooking, I finally was able to make this dish exactly like the Hajji made it. It was such a glorious afternoon, a moment I will never forget. Oh, I was so proud of myself. 

INGREDIENTS:

2 lobster tails

1/2 cup of coconut milk

1/2 medium onion

1 medium tomato

1/2 medium jalapeño pepper 

1 tablespoon of olive oil

1 teaspoon of cumin

1/2 teaspoon of paprika

1/2 teaspoon of salt

METHOD:

On a medium-high heat, place the oil and sliced onions in a sauce pan. Cover that and let the onion cook just a little. Then place the unshelled tails in the pan, and surround them with the sliced tomatoes. Then add the spices and salt, as well as the jalapeños and cover.  Let that cook for about five minutes. By now, the lobster tails are curling up. Then add the coconut milk. Turn off the heat, and let that continue cooking for another five minutes. That’s it.