Who is the mug, you may ask (or not)? Me I tell you, me! Why? For thinking that I could make fufu all alone, then realising that I’m not about that dead arm life, before begging my grandma to save me last minute.
It’s okay, you can roll your eyes because I am done with my fraudulent self too…
Now, this post isn’t recipe specific, but I’ve got this feeling inside my bones that has gone electric, wavey because it’s been turned on (sing/hum along). Seriously doe, I had the most divine African food sharing evening with my best friend, so I must talk to you about it so that you can say ‘omg yessss we will do this’ to your pal/bae, then feel a burning urge to share it with me in the comments section.
If you’ve already done this then you know how amazing and kind of life changing it is. To those of you who live a life of procrastination and binge on sweet nothings like my best friend and I, it’s okay, it’s never too late to accomplish your dreams and it will happen. You simply must set a date that you can really and truly stick to without one of you having to cancel every week because you think you’re too cool for a diary (the tone suggests that this is coming from a place of painful experienceS).
Eden-el-Eritrean and I have been best friends for about 11 years now (cue the ‘awwwws’) so it’s truly LUDICROUS that we hadn’t shared our traditional dishes with each other yet. First, let me tell you about the major obstAcles that I ran into when planning my side of the feast (the cap A in obstacles represents the mountain I climbed to resolve these issues).
Number 1: She is a vegetarian.
Number 2: She doesn’t like okra.
I didn’t even know whether meat-free meals existed in Angolan cuisine, but then I immediately thought oooo kiabos would solve this, but that has okra in it so wodEVA.
However, being the hogwartian that I am…I tried my best and worked some magic. That is code for, I called my grandma, my mum, broke my head open while brainstorming for minutes on end, until I finally came up with a half decent menu. As you can imagine, it was looking sparse, so I threw in some store-bought pão de queijo just in case she starved. Although, if you’ve ever eaten fufu then you know just how well it does the job of giving you the dreaded sleep provoking itis. My girl had to take food home :). Proud moment, I must say.
I ‘cooked’ her (ssshhh) some fufu made from cassava flour (it’s in a ball), greens and feijao com oleo de palma (the beans).
I then very skilfully hand-rolled the ready-made, frozen pão de queijo into the oven.
She cooked me injera (pancake looking thang), tsephe with chicken (the darkest brown stew), ful (the medium brown beans), shiro (the lightest brown paste) and tzatziki. It is important to note that her presentation skills are hella wack, but she apologised. I forgave her. So should you.
I think that we should all try to put food sharing into practise more often if we can. I discovered so much; I was introduced to new flavours, found that although I am decent at languages, I can’t pronounce tsephe for the life of me AND I connected more with my friend’s culture, as she did with mine. Ain’t that a beauty? Gwarn, organise a food sharing SHOW DOWN with as many people as you can. Expand your flavour bank ASAP…rocky.
p.s. Don’t worry, recipes are coming soon – I gatchu!