Cairo's Champions

I just finished eating one of my favourite foods here in Egypt: smoked street yams. Then it occurred to me that these guys should be featured on the next installment of Cairo’s Champions.

They are the masters of the smoked sweet potato/yam. If my yams turned out like theirs at Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter, I’d be one happy man. Alas, their secret seems to be one passed down by forefathers, who, even two-hundred years ago, likely used the same technique. One can therefore be sure that the product sampled that many years ago has changed little in today’s market. Any food that can last that long in its original state deserves respect, and so do the men behind it.

The average street yam vendor has a cart equipped with a stove. And, like any entrepreneur, he looks for the crowded areas of the city where business is likely to be best. Sometimes, though, you’ll find him in the unlikeliest of places at the most convenient of times. Often times, the sweet smell of smoked sweet potato tantalizes your nostrils before you even see the guy.

Purchasing is fairly straightforward. You tell the man how many LE (Egyptian Pounds) worth of yam you want (usually 1 or 2 LE), he either reaches into the stove to pull out a piping out one or grabs one from the group of already-smoked yams sitting on top of the stove. Either way, you’re getting an expertly-smoked yam that’s ready to eat, so you can’t complain. The last step involves wrapping the product in sheets of paper for transport to your destination.

Not wanting to wait until you sit down, you inevitably open up the paper package and let the smell waft to your nose. It is time to sink your teeth into the soft, inviting, orange flesh of the vegetable. The first flavour you get is a smokey, bacon-like taste that keeps you coming back for more, which is soon followed by that sweet yam taste you’re used to.

So, if you’re walking by a master, do pay homage by sampling the finest smoked vegetable on the planet.