Masawu or Merlot, payment is in ‘units’

But if you inhabit deepest Mudzi or a remote outpost in Binga, a helping of wild fruit could be the only alternative to going hungry.

When the rains come, ishwa (flying ants) will once again provide a tasty snack and valuable source of protein. Incidentally, the bit about the “tasty snack” is only hearsay.

While requiring little persuasion to swallow a live oyster, I draw the line at munching flying insects, be they freshly caught in mid-flight, or salted and crisp-fried to perfection.
Considering the countrywide food shortages, particularly in rural areas, city dwellers are fortunate that a number of restaurants are still in existence.
The golden triangle encompassing Highlands, Borrowdale and Chisipite, may have lost some of its glitter as one or other establishment closes down and another limits opening to three days in the week.
But there are still places to go and people to see, as George and I discovered one evening last week, when driving down the Borrowdale Road, past Sam Levy’s village.
Our destination was Leonardo’s, a popular family restaurant specialising in Italian, Greek and French cuisine.
We had barely reached the summit of a steep flight of stairs, when a pleasant-faced gentleman wearing a crisply laundered blue shirt, greeted us with a smile, and directed us to a table for two near the window.
A waiter pulled out our chairs for us, and took the drinks order — a Castle for George (2 units) and a ginger ale for me (1.50 units).
While the place was not exactly buzzing, it was busy enough, and there were several tables occupied by young families out for an early supper.
Décor at Leonardo’s is a pastiche of Greek and Italian, with some rather nice framed prints of Italian vegetables vying for attention with terracotta statues of naked men in faux marble alcoves.
Piped Greek music played in the background, with a female artiste singing soulfully about life and love in foreign parts.
As units have a way of adding up frighteningly fast, George and I gave the starters a miss, and ordered a main course each.
George asked for a Quattro Stagione pizza (9 units), while I ordered a lasagne with spinach (8 units).
The pizza was delicious, with a generous topping of cheese, ham and green peppers.
I couldn’t resist eating a slice of pizza before turning my attention to the lasagne.
Eating lasagne in Harare restaurants can be a dangerous business.
Sometimes the pasta is too thick and the filling poorly cooked and over-flavoured.
But at Leonardo’s, the pasta was delicate, many-layered and distinctly home-made.
The béchamel sauce was perfect, and there was just the right amount of spinach in the filling.
Attractively presented on a white plate, the portion was just the right size.
Determined to find out what Leonardo’s chef was capable of, I ordered a crème brulee (5 units) and a filter coffee (2 units).
Time and again I have ordered this dessert in Zimbabwe’s finest restaurants, and been fobbed off with a baked custard.
The genuine article takes time to prepare, and after sprinkling the surface with sugar, which is melted under the grill, the crème should be refrigerated overnight before being served.
The sugar will have formed a hard surface to be cracked open with a dessert spoon.
Well, Leonardo’s crème brulee fulfilled all the requirements, and was delicious.
Filter coffee was aromatic and hot, and served in a generous-sized white coffee cup, with a jug of warm milk.
While monkey bread and masawu are among Zimbabwe’s most popular wild fruits, they are by no means a substitute for a substantial meal.
Given a choice, few people would opt for mbambaira over lasagne or monkey bread over pizza.
Whether paying for a meal in a restaurant, or buying a bowlful of masawu, the common denominator remains the elusive “unit”.
Given the scarcity of “units”, even monkey bread might become an unaffordable luxury.