The A to Z of Ghanaian Food Favourites

You know I love my blog tradition of publishing something Ghana-centric on Independence Day. This year, it is sugar and spice and all things food. You've been served. 

A is for Apapransa

The joyous fusion of palm nut soup and roasted maize flour are the main components of this Ghanaian dish. Filling and eye-catching, especially when garnished with crabs, you certainly won't forget it in a hurry.

B is for Banku

To make banku is to get a lesson in: proportionate mixing of fermented corn and cassava dough, achieving a smooth consistency and being rewarded with perfect lump-free balls. Serve with soup, stew or a pepper sauce with fish. Tilapia usually wins here. 

C is for Chichinga

This skewered meaty addition - also spelt kyinkyinga - is a must on any party table or street food venue. Lamb, beef, pork, chicken...the possibilities are endless. Don't forget the all important liberal sprinkling of chichinga powder which is made from a mixture of roasted cornmeal, red pepper, pulverized peanuts, salt and other spices. You don't want to miss that distinctive zing.

D is for Domedo 

This spicy pork belly delicacy had to have the entire letter D because it has become an institution unto itself. An unmissable component of Ghana's street food scene, domedo can be fried, grilled or roasted to accompany kenkey, fried yam or banku with pepper. Among some friends of mine, Sundays in Accra are not complete without hitting up a domedo joint in Jamestown.  

E is for Ekwegbemi 

Coarse corn meal eaten as a cereal with milk and sugar to taste. As a child in Kumasi, I used to listen out for Eno Mary, the neighbourhood ekwegbemi seller. Her melodious ditty alerting the neighbourhood of the readiness of "hot hot ekwegbemi" was one of the firm sounds of the morning. Good old days.

F is for Fufu 

This national dish is traditionally made by boiling cassava, yam, plantain and/or cocoyam, and then pounding them into a dough-like consistency using a mortar and pestle. Due to the exertion in making fufu, you really must sit down to the finished meal with the view to enjoying every last morsel. Or, you may also skip all of that and purchase any of the ready-mix powdered versions available on the market. Enjoy with just about any local soup going - See 'N' for some examples.

G is for Gari

The multi-functional gari can be eaten sweet (soaked in water with sugar and milk, popularly known as 'gari soakings') or savoury (with gravy, soup or shito - See 'S')

H is for Hausa Koko

This popular meal is available from the time the cock crows. Made from components including corn, millet, ginger, dried pepper, hwentia (Grains of Selim), fom wisa.(Grains of paradise) and soro wisa (West African pepper), it is guaranteed to hit the spot and set you up for the morning.

I is for Iced Kenkey 

The divine ice kenkey is the art of giving kenkey a new lease of life. Perfection is achieved by mashing the kenkey to a watery mix, with sugar and milk added to taste. Pop it into the fridge to complete the ice cool goodness. 

J is for Jollof Rice 

There's a battle on social media (#JollofDebate; #JollofWars) and in real time to decide which West African country lays claim to the best version of this one-pot dish of deliciousness. Made with a tomato stew base to which rice and spices are added and allowed to slow cook, jollof is the summation of all that perfectly cooked rice should be. Rest assured they don't come tastier than the Ghanaian version. Sit down, Nigeria. 

K is for Kelewele 

Diced, well-spiced fried ripe plantain that is the stuff of enjoyable snacking. What's not to like? (I also have an untested theory that kelewele is always the first to finish at the buffet table of any Ghana/West African party).

L is for Light Soup

This soup, although called 'light' can be thickened with garden eggs and broad beans, and enjoyed with different types of meat and/or fish. 

M is for Momoni

One not exactly for the faint-hearted. This salted fish could blaze its way through the nostrils of a comatose patient - and wake them up. The French have their 'stinky' delicacies in cheese and what not. In Ghana we have ours in momoni and its ilk (eg. koobi, totobi, dawadawa). So allow. Keep calm and spice your local soups and stews with it. 

N is for Nkwan 

We seriously love soup (nkwan - Akan word for soup) in Ghana, and, thankfully, the national palette serves different options. These include Nkrakra (light soup), Abe nkwan (palm nut), Nkate nkwan (groundnut), Werewere nkwan (sesame) and Ebunu ebunu (soup prepared with an assortment of green leaves, particularly kontomire), among others.

O is for Omo Tuo

One for the rice lovers, omo tuo is cooked with more water to achieve a soft consistency, and then rolled into small balls. Usually served with groundnut or palmnut soup.

P is for Prekese

Prekese goes by the sonorously alliterative botanical name, Tetrapleura tetraptera (...go on, say it again. I know I did). Your soup will thank you for its flavoursome contribution. Not one to slack in life, prekese is also notable for its medicinal uses.

Q is for Quiche 

I'll crave your indulgence and go with quiche here since it has become a firm fixture on the Ghana food scene. On that note, anybody out there with suggestions of a local Ghanaian food/ingredient beginning with the letter 'Q'?

R is for Red Red 

Getting its colourful name from being cooked with palm oil, red red is black-eyed bean stew. For the love of beans, have it with fried plantain and gari to make it a memorable threesome! 

S is for Shito

This black pepper sauce is as ubiquitous as the wind. From being a student companion taking pride of place in the 'chop boxes' of boarding schoolers, to finding itself a suitable accompaniment to everything under the sun, you will soon love the fiery presence of shito. Call it a black magic potion for every season of life, if you will. 

T is for Tuo Zaafi ('TZ') 

'TZ' can go far with you. I mean, it can be made from millet, corn, sorghum or cassava mixtures, and enjoyed with soup. Tell me, if that isn't going the whole nine yards with you, what is?

U is for Umbles

Umbles is the offal of deer. Those who have had it tell me it needs to be eaten to be believed. This neatly takes us to the next letter.

V is for Venison

Empirical observation tells me use of venison is not as widespread as other meats. However, it certainly has enthusiasts who swear by its flavour. The contents of the gut are squeezed out, mixed with water and strained before being added to venison soup to give it that "gutty" taste. It's not for me, but it certainly is a delicacy for some. 

W is for Waakye 

Your typical waakye meal consists of cooked rice and beans with stew, plus a combination of spaghetti, moist gari, fried fish/meat, boiled egg, fried plantain or kelewele and vegetable salad. It is the stuff of goodness, the stuff of legend, the stuff of morning or lunchtime joy, the stuff of - okay, it is rather obvious waakye is a firm favourite of mine. At this point, I'd like to thank Mama Tess Special Waakye Joint at Kaneshie for many delicious meals. She and I are even on first name terms. That's special. 

X is for 

Erm. Yea, this is not happening. Please send help. 


Y is for Yam

In the food world, the humble yam is high on the list of 'Most Versatile Vegetable'. What do I mean by that? You may bake, boil, fry, mash, pound or roast yam. Here, the list really is endless.  

Z is for Zomi 

Zomi is palm oil cured in an especial way, giving it a distinct flavour and tasty sediment . May it forever make meals memorable. 


Happy Independence Day, folks!

Turkish delights

It is a gloriously sunny day when I arrive in Turkey. 

There is a gaiety in the air that brings out a lightness in people, an infectiously warm feeling that wraps itself snuggly around me and pulls the ends of my lips into a carefree smile.

I have surprised my friend Cansu with adroit geography skills that lead me to our meeting place faster than she expected, and every so often, she casts me looks that give away how impressed she is.  I act nonchalant, as though I am in the habit of manoeuvring my way through strange cities all the time, but I can’t hide my pleased face for long on the drive back to her family house.

She is rattling away in her bubbly way, bright smiles lighting up her face with every sentence, so that even though I am slightly distracted by the shops and people along the pavements, I chip in often so she doesn’t cotton on to that fact.

It had only taken a single phone call, this spontaneous Sunday trip.

‘I’m bored. I have no idea what to do with myself this afternoon.’

Her tinkly laugh had rang down the line, and the invitation had been prompt. ‘It’s my dad’s birthday and there’s a family barbecue. Everyone will be here. So come!’

I go.

I smell it before we walk through the front door; a delicious aroma wafting through the house, playfully assailing the senses with ticklish charm. A slow growl ripples its way through my stomach, announcing the presence of a hunger I hadn’t yet been aware of.

In the kitchen, Cansu bends down and kisses her grandmother. ‘Nene, bu is arkadasim’dir,’ she says, motioning me closer. Grandma, this is my friend from work.

I return the gentle smile creasing a face lined with years gone by.  She is sitting on a low stool with her walking stick by her. As she reaches up to me, I notice her hands first, wrinkled with age. But her grip is strong when she folds me into a welcoming hug, and for a moment I remember my own grandmother in Ghana. I hold on to her a little longer and she kisses my cheek softly as I let go. She doesn’t speak much English, but in her warm gaze I feel like I’ve had a profound conversation with her.  She releases me, and we go through the kitchen to the back garden.

Juicy lamb ribs are sizzling on the barbecue, and the smell makes coherent speech nigh impossible. Hussein, Cansu’s father, is standing behind the grill wiping his brow, his satisfaction apparent. He is smiling before we’ve even exchanged names. ‘I hope you like food, because there’s plenty here!’ he says in greeting. I laugh at this line delivered with such paternal impatience, as though I were one of his own, and walk over to greet him properly.

Voices can be heard from upstairs.

‘That'll be my brother and his friends,’ says Cansu, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

We bound up the stairs towards the noise. Jay is tall and handsome, with eyes like his sister's. They crinkle easily in laughter. We've each heard a lot about the other, and so even though it is our first meet, I launch effortlessly into teasing him. 

'I hear you're learning to drive as well? What makes you think you can beat me to it, huh?' I challenge. 

He cocks his head to the side. 'Oh yeah? Whichever one of us passes their driving test first, buys the other a car. Deal?'

I smile. 'Deal.'

Hussein calls us down to sample what's on offer. The dining table is bursting with delights and flavours. Bulgur pilaf, lamb chops, mushrooms and pitta bread are sitting side by side with hellim (cheese), cacik (yoghurt side), humus and salad. And more dishes are making their appearance as we grab plates and help ourselves. I enjoy my first taste of hellim so much, Cansu's mother gifts me with an entire pack.      

 No stranger to eating with my hands, I tuck into the food to the last lick of fingers that may well be bitten in utter abandon and pursuit of that final morsel.

The sun shifts and casts a late afternoon glow, and I realize I am not in Turkey. 

I am in the north London home of my Turkish friend. Here, I feel as though I have walked into a scene I know very well: the stacks of plates that tell of a meal well-enjoyed, the banter and cacophony of criss-crossing conversations and the accompanying exasperation of trying to be a part of each one, the unshakeable feeling of family bonding, of ties that bind in unbreakable ways.  

It is a beautiful time. And I know I will always remember with warmth that Sunday in April when I gate-crashed a Turkish barbecue and left with a pack of hellim.

Around California in several meals

"So you want to come  soak up some of that Cali summer, huh? I dont blame ya, you must be all wrinkled and soggy 300 days out of the year (I hear it's raining in London. Again.) A word of caution, your skin might not be able to handle such a drastic change in weather and air humidity. You're  going to have to walk around with a layer of lotion for protection wherever you go.  Get ready to put on at least 10 pounds, turn a couple shades darker, and probably develop asthma from all the smog!!! I'll start making battle plans and let you know if there's anything specific you should pack. Like, don't pack your dignity, leave that behind, you don't need it here,"  teased my friend Charles in a flurry of excited emails between the two of us prior to my visit to the sunny side of life. 


California! 


I was neither prepared for the intensity of the sun, nor the gastronomical delight the last fortnight has handed in droves. On the former, I thought: 'Nonsense! I am from the hottest continent on earth; the sunshine in California needs to fear ME', and on the latter: 'I will just will any added weight to less conspicuous body parts..like my earlobes. Or something.'


The thing is...it didn't quite go as planned. By the end of the first day in Los Angeles, I'd developed a bad skin reaction that had me rushing to the nearest pharmacy to get some sort of anti-itching cream to soothe the discomfort. And, a week or so later when I saw my arms looking suspiciously bigger than usual in pictures, I knew I'd gained the promised extra pounds.

It was perhaps that...or more accurately, the enthusiastic catcall from a strange man in San Diego that had me dissolving into giggles. He was leaning against a wooden fence looking bored with the world. But, as I walked past him somewhere in Pacific Beach, he said loudly, 'Daaamn, girl, you got ass for days!' 

Ah, but you see, I've got a great excuse. Great, delicious excuses. California was quite the food lover's heaven. Take a look:

Smile. It costs nothing! 
Santa Monica

Croque Monsieur 
South Coast Plaza, Costa Mesa

                                                                         

El puerto primo 
((Braised pork with collard greens and ripe plantain)
Long Beach 

Pancit Palabok, (a Filipino culinary delight)

Guido Burger - grease fest galore at Hodad's
Ocean Beach, San Diego

The seven-layered dip
(includes cheese, salad, olives, tomatoes, beans and avocado)

Fajita Burrito
Hollywood

More or less the final state of each dish*.
Here, There and Everywhere

...and the desserts, naturally. Sweet after meals, non?

And so it comes to this: a year and a half after signing up at the gym, (and putting in approximately three appearances in the time since), an extra 3kg gained over two weeks in California means that perhaps ...maybe...just maybe the time has come to put that membership to use at last. And I'm talking spending more than my standard twelve minutes or so per session.**


Ahem.


*   I'm a founding member of the Clean Plate Association.
** I almost passed out after the eight-minute mark, so yes, twelve minutes is a big deal.

The Taste of Ghana in London

Eating soul food in London is a unique connection with the motherland that cannot be broken. Indigenous food – or ‘home chow’ – is a big deal. Thankfully, nestling among the various boroughs of London is a proliferation of African markets from Dalston to Peckham, Tottenham to Leytonstone, Harlesden to Brixton and beyond that caters for this specific need. You are sure to find a tuber of yam, the flavoursome small green peppers (kpakpo shito), garden eggs, ‘koko’ (porridge) powder, or the ubiquitous gari, which surely, must be a staple in every Ghanaian home and much more. Of course, Fufu Flour abounds in all its varieties: cocoyam, plantain, yam. Interestingly supermarket giants like Tesco, Sainsbury’s, and the Corner Shops now carry Fufu Flour. Indeed, authentic Ghanaian food is often just a short bus ride away.

In spite of this replication, you cannot help the nostalgia of fresh ‘kpakpo shito’ in your carrier bag which testifies to your ace bargaining skills at Makola Market in Accra’s Central Business District, or the bunch of ‘apim’  (small green plantains) from Kumasi Central Market amidst the peculiar smells and sounds! The market mammies outdo each other, singing catchy ditties with cries of, ‘M’awuraba hwe tomatoes kamakama bi!’ (‘Look at these fresh-looking tomatoes, my lady!). Music blares from loud speakers all around you, as an Evangelist preaches the message of salvation. Above the din, you mentally calculate how much money you have left and keep an eye on your purse, whilst at the same time, a dexterous carrier bag seller taps you for patronage. Meanwhile, you have to engage in some nimble footwork as a sour-faced porter barks a harsh ‘agoo ei!’ (Excuse me!) only seconds before whizzing past with a wheelbarrow laden with food products, narrowly missing your foot! The sheer bustle sometimes makes the Ghana market experience a tale of bemusement.

With the accent on healthy eating, many people are upping their intake of greens, vegetables and fruits. Innovatively, many Ghanaian families resident in the UK give indigenous food a foreign twist to enhance their diet – a side plate of steamed sprouts and mixed peppers with grated carrots tossed in olive oil and basil, for example, does not look out of place next to a ball of kenkey and grilled fish. Nor is using spinach as an alternative to ‘kontomire’ one to cause worry. It is a worthy substitution like potato powder and farina for making fufu before the near authentic latter day saints we now have on the market. At least it spares the pounding!

For the average person in search of culinary delights from Ghana, it is not a big deal to make a meal about. Rest assured, the London food scene is deliciously saturated with Ghanaian restaurants ready to salivate and titillate your taste buds! Efie ne fie – to wit, there is no place like home. 

You can take the girl out of Ghana...

Take the Sankofa Restaurant in Norbury, south London, for example. Established in 2001, the owner, Baba, (no surname necessary here, sir. Think Pele or Madonna) prides himself on serving ‘African food in general and Ghanaian food in particular.’ The emphasis is on ‘quality, affordability and customer service.’ It is a winning combination that keeps attracting patrons, both old and new, back to this intimate restaurant where Baba himself is often found bustling on the restaurant floor serving and tickling customers with his infectious laughter and camaraderie. In this homey set-up, Baba suggests you try the fried yam with ‘akonfem’ (guinea fowl) or the ‘banku’ and grilled tilapia from a menu that is bursting with other local delicacies. ‘Nkatibe’ with ‘omo tuo’, anyone? (Palm/peanut butter soup and rice balls)

A selection of dishes from the kitchen at  Sankofa Restaurant

On the other side of town, Aunty Bertha serves a festive dish at Kenkey House, Viva Afrik. Located on High Road Leytonstone, the fine art of kenkey preparation has been literally imported from Bukom in Accra and perfected in the heart of London! (Kenkey, made from fermented corn dough and usually wrapped in corn leaves, is a versatile dish that can be eaten as the authentic savoury with freshly ground/fried pepper and fish, soup/stew, OR mashed and diluted with water, sugar and milk to taste.) At Kenkey House, a selection of fish is distractingly, mouth-wateringly, arranged, such that you struggle to speak coherently when placing your order. If you are met with a knowing smile from the attendant behind the counter, just smile back, knowing you are in good hands. Here at last, you have found a place where it is perfectly alright to smell something fishy.  Oh, and the good news is Viva Kenkey has a really long shelf life and also maintains its taste. So just ask for a bottle of the delicacy ‘shito’ (fried pepper sauce with fish and shrimps), the perfect accompaniment to hot kenkey and you are in business.

When it comes to the Gold Coast Bar and Restaurant in South Norwood, you are truly spoilt for choice. This restaurant dishes sumptuous meals to an eclectic clientele from all over the UK. Since its inception in 2004, William Quagraine, the man behind the hotspot, has been spicing up the taste buds not only with traditional West African dishes, but also with the unique Original Chef’s Special Chilli Sauce made from scotch bonnet peppers and kpakpo shito seasoned with herbs and spices. Throw in the popular beer garden, an impressive selection of music from the African continent and giant screens which make it the place to watch that all-important football match, and you have a memorable experience: authentic Ghanaian food and hospitality at this self-styled ‘gastropub with an Afro twist’ at the heart of the multicultural south of the city!

Sweet Handz Restaurant caters for the north London crowd from its base in Holloway N7. Patrons of this restaurant on two floors must definitely sample the Sweet Handz platter, the house starter which comes highly recommended. The platter includes kelewele (fried ripe plantain) and khebabs, and is designed to whet your appetite for things to come from the main courses, such as fried yam served with grilled tilapia.

London is famed for its cosmopolitan mix, and this is reflected in the representation of restaurants and exotic groceries from every corner of the world. Ghanaian foodies have definitely made the cut.

Now that’s some food for thought. Worth chewing over, don’t you agree?

This feature first appeared in the 2012 Edition of the Ghanalinks Directory, and is re-posted here with permission from the publishers.