I have read several messages pertaining to bugs in one's flour, and smile,
remembering when I lived in Cameroon, West Africa, from July 1974-July
1975. Our home was a grass house at Bawa, located 35 kilometers from
Ngaoundere, where we went once a week for food supplies. Our shopping was
done at two open air African markets. We went early in the morning of the
day when a cow or two was being butchered, stepped over the remains on our
way to long tables on which the meat was displayed, and were lucky if we
were able to purchase a bit of filet. Otherwise, we bought whatever chunk
we could. The flies that came with the meat were free, so I had to wash
the meat thoroughly and cut off all the outside portion before I dared
prepare it for consumption. If we
were unlucky not to get any of the filet, my only recourse was to hand
grind the meat because it otherwise was too tough to eat.
Flour was purchased from vendors who had it piled in a heap on a scrap of
material laid on the ground. When buying some, the flour was weighed on a
small portable scale, then a piece of dirty newspaper was rolled into a
cone and filled with the flour. My first order of the day, when back at my
grass house, was to sift all the bugs out of the four before placing it in
a canister. When using the flour, I sifted it a second and third
time. Lutheran missionaries we met in the area told me this is what they
did, and convinced me that I shouldn't worry because any bug bits remaining
in the flour, and germs from the bugs, would be killed in the baking
process. I guess they were right because they survived and so did we.
Lynn Cragholm
lest2@juno.com
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