We get back to Livingstone without getting ambushed and find Zest. We’d looked this up yesterday and it seemed like a close second in terms of places to eat in town, right after the Zambezi Cafe. It’s gonna be hard to be worse than that so we have high hopes and low expectations.
It’s early enough for breakfast but a quick browse of the menu and the consensus is we’d be remiss to skip out on some of these options. They have croc bites and croc skewers, Portuguese chicken, impala and kudu stew and a number of nummy sounding Brazilian-style espetadas. Just kidding, they’re out of impala. But the rest sounds so great that this barely phases us.
We order up a feast of croc skewers, chorizo and haloumi skewers, kudu stew, and the beef espetadas because the description is max narmz. Oversized chunks of meat, marinated in a Brazilian sauce, cooked on the braai, and served with chimichurri sauce. Exciting stuff. They drop some tea on the table and we order a round of Mosi. I like it in here. Less touristy than the Zambezi Cafe. Good simple vibe.
“This is killer, boys. Lots of time today to get into it.” “Yep, I figure we can make it to…” I pull up a map on the phone and zoom in on Kafue national park, “…I dunno. Itezhi tezhi?” “That’s a place? Itezhi tezhi?” “Ya. It’s about halfway through the park, or just under. Right by the lake.” I draw a route on the map with my finger, “Can maybe skirt around and enter there to save time. There’s also a place near Itezhi Tezhi called Itezi-Tezi.” “Ahhhhh what?” “Ya look at this. It’s got a hyphen and no ‘H’ in the Tezi.” “Haha no H in the Tezzzzziiiiiiii!!”
We get another round of beers cuz there’s no H in the Tezi. The chorizo and haloumi skewers land next to them. Mark is blown away, “Holy shit, boys! You gotta try these.” Yep. Incredible. It just melts. Then slightly spicy. It’s a cream dream. “What the hell. This consistency is insane!” They’re so off-the-charts good that we immediately order another plate of them.
I’m looking at the map and our return date in Lusaka and something’s not adding up. Oh shit! Oh this is amazing. “Whooaaaaa! I miscalculated, homies. We have a whole extra day.” “An extra day?” “Yep. A whole extra day in the Kafue. I guess I thought Lusaka was further away from the park and we’d have to get there first then return the truck the next day. But look…” Everyone leans in to look at the map. “If we leave from up here in the North, it’s only a 4 hour drive to the airport.” “So we can basically stay in the park until the day we need to return the truck.” “Exactly!” “Well damn, that’s awesome! We can probably hit the whole thing now.” “For sure. All the way South to North. And less driving each day.” “The H is back in the Tezi, bo…”
We get distracted by the espetada making its way to the table. Peter already has his knife and fork in hand, “Now that… is a thing of beauty.”
Oh ya, it’s delicious. Whatever this tangy sauce is, it’s the bomb. And then chimichurri sauce on top of the sauce… divine. Oh and here’s the kudu stew. Also incredible. And more haloumi skewers. Ya Zest is killing it.
Meal mode. Less talking and more eating. Another round of Mosi to help wash down our meat mountain.
“We’ll never get through this thing.” “I know right? Infinite Zest.” “This was seven bucks?” “Ya. That’s crazy. Doesn’t even make sense.”
We do an admirable job. Peter somehow packs away about three people’s worth of beef. We box up the rest and some of the kudu. What a great spot. Everything was so good. The croc actually came away as the least impressive dish. We thank the staff and roll ourselves out the front door. The Livingstone culinary scene has been fully redeemed.
Back to Belinda and we open the back door and cooler for a little inventory check. Mark and I tally it up, “We have a ton of leftovers now. Should probably get some snacky roadtrip stuff.” “More booze?” “We have tons of booze, dude.” “But we’re going to be in the park for daaaaaaays.” “That’s true. And I don’t fight leopards as well when I’m sober.” “Seeeeeeeeee. Find some Klippies at least.”
We hit the Spar around the corner from Jollyboys. “Yaaaa I’m gonna say it sucks.” “Slim pickings here. There’s a Shoprite on the next street.” We go back out. Jamie hits the bank machine on the corner. He comes back in a Tezhi, “Fucking bank machine ate my card!” “What, really?” “Ya man. Won’t give it back. I was kicking the thing. Fucking sucks.” “Ahhh damn, I dunno… I mean.. we can spot you.” “I don’t want to do that..” “No worries man, we’ll make it work.” “I… fuck!! I’ll figure something out.”
We get back in the truck. A beggar comes up with a ratty cloth and starts wiping the windshield down. Peter’s trying to wave him off out the driver’s window, “No thanks, we don’t need it.” “Big man, big man <mumble mumble>, big man.” “No. Please stop.” Peter’s pointing at the new mud streaks on the window, “You’re making it worse!” “Big man <mumble mumble>, big maaaahn.” This is actually comical but the guy is totally messing up our windshield. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, man. I have nothing for you.” “Big man. Give me something.” Jamie’s really not in the mood, “Fuck this, dude. Just drive.”
We get around the corner to Shoprite. Looks way better. Seems to be a lot of street sellers and wanderers around outside. Jamie stays by the car. Maybe his cranky debit card energy will scare off any potential thieves or hooligans. Peter’s immediately off on a mission to get dish soap. Mark and I go for the important stuff. We find Klippies and some white wine. Grab some Mosi lager. Paper towel. Hand sanitizer. Pick up some XX hot sauce from Nandos, a thing of chutney. Cheese and crackers. Some chocolate. All set.
We pack everything into the truck. Some kids are hanging around trying to talk to us. They’re cute but we don’t understand a thing they’re saying. They say “Hello!” a thousand times. We wave and say, “Byyyeeeeeee!” and they start giggling.
Feels good to get back on the road. “I think we’re well stocked for one last safari.” “Fucking eh. Can’t wait. Kafue here we come.”