Pardon me jare. Na so life be. Urgh...'adulting' is such a scam fam.
Anyhu (or like the Irish will say, 'Anyroadup'), this is yet another page in my Foodie Diary and this time, we are going Western. Nope, not cowboy-western. I'm talking about the western part of my motherland, Nigeria - Yorubaland.
Background story: I ate amala (otherwise known as cassava flour) for the first time in boarding school. It was the first school night and that was an option in the menu for dinner, along with eba (which never changed during my six years in high school by the way). So I thought to myself, let me give this black dish a try.
And boy, oh boy did I hate it. It tasted as ugly as it looked. Tueh.
Many years later, 19 years to be exact, several friends and acquaintances have tried their best to make me give the taste-test another go, seeing as I am quite adventurous when it comes to food and including the fact that judging the taste of food made in a boarding house was denying the dish the right to an objective jury.
So I decided I was going to take my chance on it again, and what better place than to eat it in the Land of Amala itself - Ibadan.
A colleague-turned-friend of mine was getting married in that city on the 15th of February, and I ordered it with some ewedu soup at the wedding reception.
My verdict? Fast-forward to a few weeks later. I'm back in Lagos and another colleague-turned-friend who had just bought herself a new car asked me what I wanted for lunch to celebrate. Yep. I asked for amala. After 19 whole years, I finally caved.
On our road trip back to Lagos on the 16th of February, we stopped by the roadside to buy some foodstuff for our beloved ones at home (because God forbid, you travel out of town and not come back with a bag of goodies). In other news, the bananas we bought were huuuge...and flippin' cheap!
Anyroadup (blame it on the Irish novel I am currently engrossed in), one of my colleagues kept calling out to some traders asking for dodo ikire. I was curious cause I had never heard of it before. And then I saw what it looked like, and of course I became even more curious.
Side note: Spot the Irish novel I was talking about. Since February, I know. I'm not a slow reader...just been a lazy one of recent.
Apparently, it's overripe plantain fried with palm oil, salt and pepper. Hmm, interesting. And it didn't taste bad either!
So basically, this was my Ibadan food experience- 'The Weekend Of Black Colored Food Tasting' or something of the sort (this was the best I could come up with. Forgive me)
P.S: I know you're wondering what's become of my 21 Day Cleanse. Imma get back to you on that preeeettttty soon.
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