The Way to a Man's Heart

My favorite dish: grilled croaker fish and chips

"You who buy imported western food; don’t you know how important food is to a culture and that by avoiding it you are avoiding connecting with your host culture?"

"You who buy food from the local market and street vendors, don’t complain when you get typhoid or amoebic dysentery. It’s your own fault. You know how unsanitary all that is." (https://www.alifeoverseas.com/youre-doing-it-wrong/)

My attempt at making eba and ogbono soup

I have been on a mission for the last nine months to find original cream cheese, but I have had little success.  The only thing I found was light cream cheese (which just isn't the same) and it cost almost $6.00 for a small packet.  It's just not worth it.  When I go to Shoprite (the supermarket that is not far from my house) I pass by the cheese aisle, checking the prices, just hoping that it might go down.  I still haven't made the dive into the dark-side of buying cheese in Lagos.  But maybe someday I will take the plunge.  My greatest temptation is by far the Coldstone Creamery that happens to be conveniently located on my way home from work.  A little slice of heaven.   

Despite my Coldstone cravings, I have loved learning how to make Yoruba (the dominant tribe in Lagos) dishes.  Although I must add that Yoruba food has limited variety compared to northern dishes.  My favorite so far has probably been the classic meal of amala (yam flour) with stew, gbegiri (bean soup) and ewedu (a slippery leaf sauce).  Yoruba also have a thing for snails, which is probably the most unique thing I have eaten since moving here.  My friend Maria and I recently learned how to make an Igbo soup called Edikaikong which calls for periwinkle, a small greenish snail that is sold in the market.  Thankfully the work of removing the snail from the shell has already been done for you in the market.


My experiences in Sierra Leone and in Nigeria have taught me that food is a powerful way to connect with people all around the world.  The saying, "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" is not far from the truth.  When I meet people here for the first time, food is often one of the first things that is brought up.  "Do you like our food?"  "What is your favorite Yoruba food so far?"  "Can you cook our food?"  When I respond with my favorite dish and share my love for learning to cook Nigerian dishes, this creates a bridge between cultures that was not there before. 

Amala, gbegiri, ewedu and stew. (photo cred: google) 

I have learned the value of cooking together with other women here to learn from them and to begin to build a mutual relationship with them.  Cooking together creates opportunities for dialogue that otherwise might be hard to create.  Cooking together creates a deeper awareness of how vastly different, yet similar our cultures are.  We heat up oil here the same way we would heat up oil in the U.S, but the technique used to drop the Akara paste in the hot oil with your hand is completely foreign to me.  We all peel potatoes, but the way in which I hold the knife to peel it is different than the way a Nigerian woman would hold the knife to peel a potato. 

Alongside the thrill of learning to try new foods, eating local has its downsides.  There are days where I get tired of eating stew and beef and want a little variety.  There are days when I want quick food, something that doesn't take so long to prepare.  I have taken risks when eating foods, gotten typhoid multiple times (P.S the vaccine is not 100% effective) and have had bouts of dysentery.  But I thank God that he has graced me with a strong stomach to be able to prepare and eat local here in Lagos.  I find comfort in knowing that I am able to connect with the culture that I am immersed in through cooking, eating, and dialoguing about food.  When I need a little taste of home, it's worth spending double on a hamburger at the Hard Rock Cafe or dropping in at Coldstone to get the founders favorite.   

the market close to my house where i buy my produce