I recall my early cooking experiences, my first attempt at cooking I was ten years old, for some strange reason, someone had allowed me go to the kitchen to boil yam, and I was so excited. I peeled the yam tuber carefully, so the slime would not get to my skin (can be very itchy, found out the hard way) and I am quite sure I must have wasted half the tuber, but who cared, I was cooking! I waited impatiently for the yam to get cooked, and spent the next couple of months telling everyone about it. I also recall my worst experience at about same age, I had volunteered to slice pepper, onions and tomatoes for one of those illegal in between meals we make when folks ain’t around. After slicing the pepper, my hands burned for the next three days, and I could not stop crying, of course the “secret meal” came to light because of me, and I never sliced pepper ever again, even as an adult, I only started slicing pepper last year with my bare hands. once bitten, twice shy.
I had two older sisters and an endless string of aunties visiting, so between all these females and my mum, me being in the kitchen was simply out of the question at that age, I was left to wander the house with my kid brothers, and our link to the kitchen was meal time. I think not being allowed into the kitchen quite often made me want to learn how to cook quite early, I was eager and curious, and I guess my mum liked that, and I got my pass into the great world of food. The best part for me till date is all that experimental stuff, you try something new each day, and as long as the ingredients are things you like, and you know what you are doing, the food almost always comes out great.
I don’t have a favourite meal, that is what I discovered lately, I can eat any meal as long as I am familiar with what is in it and it is well prepared. I could eat the swallows with any soup, rice with all kinds of sauce, well prepared beans, yam and vegetable sauce with dried fish……hmmmmmmmm,(I think I just decided my dinner) and anything else that is a typical naija delicacy, but when it comes to foreign dishes…..i am extremely careful.
I recall an official trip to Dakar two years ago, the first week was torture as the Senegalese just kept coming up with some weird meals on the menu in my hotel, I slowly regained my sanity when someone showed me one very shoddy naija restaurant. Trust me, its not one of the places I would walk into for a meal in Nigeria, but I threw shame and caution to the wind o, between my chicken and chips, and the nice English breakfast at the hotel, I had my mama put guys selling me some tasty naija meal.For someone who talks a lot about food, you’d expect me to be a bit plump abi? For where?, I am 5”11 and model thin,
I talk about food, make sure I eat, but I believe (cant prove it yet) that my stomach is the size of a fist! And not just any fist o, a kid’s fist! How else can one explain after all this my mouth making about food, I just eat a couple of spoonfuls and I am all stuffed up?Its 10:30am, I already sent for lunch, and as I type this between real office work, I cant seem to get my mind off the yam and vegetable sauce I am going to prepare when I get home tonight, if you know how I do it, you wouldn’t be able to get your mind off it too.Lol
Bon Apetit!
