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FIVE HOURS AFTER her long wooden pestle first lands in its mortar, Binta Drame emerges onto the back patio of her cousin Jean-Michel Mathiam’s house in the sleepy Senegalese town of Ziguinchor. She bears a platter of etodiaye poured over broken rice. Drame places the dish—a beef and shellfish stew—on the table, just beyond the shade of a large palm. “Allez, bon appétit,” she says to the assembled guests, before taking a seat. Elaborate meals like this are an example of a Senegalese tradition of hospitality called teranga. If we were to do it by the book, we’d be seated on the floor around a wide communal bowl, eating…