Mmmmm

. . . “When my mother does not cook anything, I have to eat them three times a day,” Charlene said. . . .

Still, at about 5 cents apiece, the cookies are a bargain compared with food staples.

Merchants truck the dirt from the central town of Hinche to the La Salines market, a maze of tables of vegetables and meat swarming with flies. Women buy the dirt, then process it into mud cookies.

Carrying buckets of dirt and water up ladders to the roof of nearby Fort Dimanche, the former prison for which the slum is named, they strain out rocks and clumps on a sheet, and stir in shortening and salt. Then they pat the mixture into mud cookies and leave them to dry under the scorching sun. . . .

Haiti’s poor eating cookies made of dirt