Exploring Djibouti cuisine through street food:
I stayed in a hotel in Djibouti Centre Ville (downtown) for 7 days, and after huge lunches (see Part 1 of the story), sometimes I just wanted something small in the evening. After sunset prayers, the city streets come alive until late at night. After dark, I often walked to the busy corner of Rue DEthiope /Rue de Soleillet (by Sanaa Restaurant) and checked out the street food.
A word about La Communication
If you don’t speak French (or Somali) here, then get ready to openly lean into the fun experience of having no idea what people are saying to you. To order street food, I did a lot of one-word English (Eat! One!), used my “baby class level” French (Poulet? Combien?), combined with a lot of pointing and nodding. Thankfully, in Djibouti everyone was extremely nice and fed me generously. Such as my kind friend Mourad in the photo here.
I loved the experience of eating street food, despite never quite figuring out what the various foods were called. Nothing I ate was spicy or had an overly strong flavor, and all was well-cooked, so I felt like it was a safe gamble to eat what was prepared for me. And, sometimes people standing with me nicely offered a bite of their food to give me a taste of the street food options.
The “Djibouti shawarma”
Along the street in the night, you can find many places serving chicken shawarma. They quickly fry the shredded chicken with onions, olives, mild green pepper, a bit of tomato, and cheese, and then serve it either in with a fresh flaky wrap or on a baguette (freshly made in local bakeries).
To be honest, we were used to the Lebanese style shawarmas that are common in other African countries (with tons of garlic, pickles, etc.) so this Djibouti style was filling, but not exactly exciting to the palate. Like everywhere else we ate in Djibouti, the portion was huge (like an entire baguette for one serving), and we could have easily ordered one to share.
The “Djibouti wrap”
Every street food vendor had a huge smoking griddle, heated over a charcoal-filled oil drum or a line of flames from a gas canister. The cook ladles out an oval of watery flour-based batter, which cooks similar to naan. He flips it until browned on both sides and then cooks an omelet under it.
Then on his workstation, he wraps it up with options like cheese, honey, nutella, and black seeds, and cuts into several pieces.
It’s like the Djibouti version of the Uganda rolex and the Zanzibar pizza, and wrapped in foil to go as an easy take-away option.
The “Djibouti mayo surprise”
The cook pours out the same batter as the “wrap” above, but after he cooks several layers of the flatbread, he then removes it to his workstation and pulverizes the bread into a million small pieces with fast knife-work. He then pours a bowl of beaten eggs onto the hot griddle, adds shredded meat (chicken, fish, or beef) on top with a diced tomato and onion and the chopped bread. After stir-frying it well, the mixture is scraped onto a plate.
But here’s the special part: He then gives it what I call “the full mayo treatment.” The stir fry is slathered in an astonishing amount of mayonnaise, with a splash of ketchup, and a full banana sliced on top. I have never seen anything like this in my life.
It stood for half an hour watching this prepared several times, since this item was very popular for takeaway orders. I didn’t get a photo of the final plate, but I did learn the proper name: Fatira.
The “Djibouti bag of sugar”
Trays of colorful home-made sweets in a shop window caught my eye as I wandered in the hustle and bustle near the bus station one evening. The young men at the shop counter generously let me sample everything. To my delight, the Xalwo (“halwo”) was still warm. Xalwo is common in many Islamic cultures and is something that looks like it shouldn’t taste good, but then tastes great. Although technically not street food, I walked out onto the street with a huge bag of rainbow sweets and a massive sugar high that night.
Arhiba! (“Wecome” in Afar language)
Djibouti is so safe that you can openly change US $100 into Francs with women sitting on street corners at night. Roads are generally well-lit and there are many men and women out and about until after 10pm. There are harmless annoyances both day and night (little kids begging, and an overly-talkative man spewing khat as he spoke), but nothing worth avoiding a good wander around Djibouti Centre Ville at night.
Perhaps what I appreciated the most on my street food excursions was that I didn’t seem to stand out to people as different. There was no equivalent of “mzungu” or “special white person treatment” which I have experienced in other African cities. There was no harassment as a woman walking alone, and no one trying to sell me something. I was just another human and treated as such, and people overall were friendly and made me feel comfortable despite the language barrier.
Merci, Djibouti, for the local flavors!
Curious to know more about what to eat in Djibouti? Check out “A foodie in Djibouti” Part 1 (connecting over food) and Part 3 (food culture).
Eat home-cooked meals with Jiranileo around Africa! Check out our Invitations page for more information about where we are and what Jiranileo is all about.
