Lemons and lobster at Ancora d’Ouro cafè, Ilha de Moçambique

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011

As Coward wisely pointed out, “in tropical climes there are certain times of day, when all the citizens retire, to tear their clothes off and perspire.” Sweating profusely, I set out to find a cool drink instead. “Bem gelado, fache favour” (Ice-cold, please), as they say here.  Shamefully that is all the Portuguese I’ve managed acquire in the month I’ve been in Mozambique, but to my credit I use the phrase often.

 

Ilha de Moçambique’s architecture tells the story of a once proud dame of the Indian Ocean, a busy trading port on the merchant route between the interior of Africa, Europe and the East. Ilha has had many sea-faring admirers and her streets are witness to centuries of foreign influence. The most recent occupiers, the Portuguese, have left their imprint on the render lime façades and carved cornices of the architecture. A forgotten lover awaiting restoration, the island’s crumbling limestone buildings now have a distinctly romantic charm. I am completely in love as I stroll down a cobbled street in search of a drink to quench my thirst. 

 

I find Ancora d’Ouro cafè on a corner opposite an imposing, recently painted, white Catholic Church, Misericordia. It appears to be the only place that is open at this time of day and proves to be an excellent choice. The large open bay-windows and the roof-top fans, whirring at high-speed, allow the air to flow freely. The breeze and an ice-cold freshly squeezed lemon juice with a tea spoon of sugar provide sweet relief. 

 

Eva Sandberg, the restaurant owner, is writing up the evening’s menu on the board.  “Plenty of fish at Ilha”, as the locals will tell you, “everything else comes from the mainland.” A 3km long single-lane bridge built in the 1960’s now connects Ilha to the mainland of Mozambique. The menu is a seafood lover’s delight: fish, calamari, oysters, prawns and lobster. I ask Eva whether she is also the chef. She shakes her head and tells me that the Vongole – or Spaghetti with clams as she has written it – and ice-cream are her only contributions to the menu. “And also Swedish pancakes!” she chuckles. Originally from Sweden, Eva came to Mozambique in the late nineties, after Mozambique’s civil war, to work for a development agency. After several years on the mainland she bought this restaurant which she transformed from basic local joint into something with flair and sophistication.

 

 I promise to return for dinner. 

 

Ancora d’Oura is busier in the evening than it was during the day. Laughter and warm tungsten light spill out onto the pavement. The night sky is a deep black and down the side streets one can just make out the shadows of locals leaning in doorways, chatting and, enjoying the balmy evening and salty breeze. I sit outside and order a beer accompanied with “rissoes bolinhas de camarao” (prawn balls). The lightly crumbed starter, cautiously dunked in Mozambique’s famous piri-piri sauce, is delicious. 

 

When in Mozambique eat mangoes! There are plenty of mango trees on the mainland and it is quite common in the villages to see a person waving a stick at a tree trying to dislodge a mango for a quick snack. So for my main course I decide to go for the lobster served on a bed of rice with mango salsa. 

 

Dinner arrives. The waiter smiles a big smile, and puts down in front of me a magnificently large, albeit slightly char-grilled lobster. I hesitate. We have clearly had a lost-in-translation moment. Should I complain? I picture myself going through a series of hand gesticulations and disappointed faces and then say with a grin, practising the words “Lagosta grelado? Obrigada!” Complain?  How can I when Ilha has cast her spell on me?

 

By Nicole McCreedy