gambia bites

Passport & Plate - Cassava leaf stew

Gambia | Monday, March 2, 2015 | 5 photos

Ingredients
Cassava leaf x 1 big bag
okra pieces x 2 small bag
okra powder 1 x small bag
bitter tomatoes x 2
scotch bonnet peppers,
smoked fish x 5
palm oil x 1 cup
fish head x 1
salt - enough to season
tomato puree x 1 spoonful
rice x 5 cups

Method
Wash the cassava leaf thoroughly until clean. Place in a big pot on the charcoal stove and cover with water. Cook for approx 30 minutes.
Meanwhile de-bone the smoked fish and place the flesh in a bowl.
Wash all of the remaining vegetables and also the rice. Place the rice in a pot ready for cooking later.
Cut up the bitter tomatoes into chunks.
Put the okra pieces into the large mortar and pound with the large pestle until paste-like.
Place the fish flesh, fish head, bitter tomatoes, scotch bonnet and okra paste you've just made into the cassava pot. Stir through.
Add the palm oil and okra powder and stir together, cook for a further 20-30 minutes.
Taste. Season. Take off the heat. Cook the rice.
Serve the stew with rice in a bowl, enjoy with friends and eat lovingly with your right hand.

Story
My new mate Kumba. She is queen of Bijilo, in The Gambia. I met her on a dusty street that led to the compound I was staying in. She was selling niébé and tapalapa to the passers by, and it was her larger-than-life character that immediately made me feel comfortable in this new and exciting place. I hung around with her for a few days, tasting her sister's and mother's food, dancing to afrobeats, and attempting to learn local phrases (in a very English and amusing accent to them). But it was on one sweltering afternoon after a tasty meal of Domoda, that she decided it was time for me to try to master a local recipe.

So the next morning we had a stroll to the vibrant local market to pick up the ingredients. While all eyes were on the white girl carrying cassava leaves and palm oil, she told me that we would be making cassava leaf stew and it would take the morning to prepare. Cooking in Africa is very physical, but at the same time beautifully calming. When you're used to tin openers, mincers and every other fancy kitchen gadget super-chefs throw at you in Europe, there definitely was something satisfying about pounding okra with a big wooden stick. She took me back to olden times, where people were more connected with their ingredients and knew instinctively how to match flavours.

When all the ingredients had simmered to their peak, teasing us with aromas so tasty I wanted to jump in the pot, we got to enjoy our dish together, laughing and joking and eating out of the bowl with one hand. Nothing beats the feeling that food can bring to people, especially of different cultures, experiencing that meal together. Overall, I think my cooking skills were OK (albeit with her helping me), and I even got given a Gambian name - Jabou (onion) - so I can't have performed too badly.
Thank you Kumba. You made my trip.