I have never been to Africa. I listened, entranced, to the stories of wonder my parents’ friends told about working on the dams in Zambia, or building the roads in Zimbabwe, tracing afterwords on the globe the meridians that led me to those exotic countries. In elementary school, I cried silent tears of angry resignation through Uncle Tom’s Cabin. I followed with adrenalin-induced intensity the escapades of the two kidnapped children wandering through deserts and jungles in Henryk Sienkiewicz’s In Desert and Wilderness. In high school I suffered through Harry’s inevitable moribund monologues in The Snows of Kilimanjaro, and made a pledge to change the world when the horrible injustices of Appartheid made my heart constrict with sorrow in Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country.
I listened to the stories of safaris in Kenya and explorations of the Serengeti, and yearned to see the red sky on the horizon of the savannah. I watched every episode of the BBC Survival series, dreaming of the African sunrises and the majestic waterfalls. When my piano teacher left for Mauritania with her husband and daughter, I was heart-broken and sad, but curious and jealous at the same time.
I wanted to go to Africa when my friend John Elwell finally got accepted to the Peace Corps and departed for Tunisia, but I was too insecure to skip the meridians again. Besides, I had a two year old daughter who was a bit too big to fit into a backpack. So I stayed put in a western suburb of Detroit and buried myself in the painful intricacies of The English Patient. My heart, already torn to slivers by divorce, became broken again and again, while I envisioned myself in the cave, the Saharan winds covering me with layers and layers of soft, seductive, and deadly sand.
I rejoiced when the mailman brought a postcard from my sister’s trip to Northern Africa, and cried laughing while she later described their adventures in Egypt and Morocco. I could envision her sitting under the enormous Saharan night sky next to the communal fire, surreptitiously rubbing her hands with an antiseptic just before a wizened Bedouin women of undetermined age offered her some flat bread and a tiny piece of some desiccated animal protein wrapped in dried camel dung. I chuckled as I imagined her chagrin when she discovered that she would be the one riding a donkey, while the rest of the group would ascend on the royal camels on their way to the pyramids, even though she would be the one leading the caravan.
I watched Hotel Rwanda embracing my knees with all my strength and sobbing inconsolably, unable to sleep for nights, asking myself what I could do to help. And I admired my friend Srdjan who spent months in the worst regions of Sudan on a UN mission to help the children.
Another friend is leaving for Cairo in a month on another UN mission, and Africa is again on my mind. Africa of Clarence, the Cross-Eyed Lion of my grade school years, Africa of Alex Haley’s Roots, Africa of The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, Africa of Somalian babies with stomachs distended by hunger, Africa of merciless child-soldiers wielding AK-47s, Africa of majestic buildings in Addis Ababa, and Africa of victorious Nelson Mandela.
I cannot go to Africa. Not yet. But I can bring a part of Africa to my home. I can introduce my children to a world that they yearn to discover as much as I do by cooking a dish that represents at least some aspects of this wonderful, mysterious, and so exploited continent. And as a background, I will offer them the books and the movies that seduced me and enticed me to learn as much as I can about Africa, enveloped in romanticism and destroyed by greed.
AFRICAN CHICKEN PEANUT STEW
Ingredients:
- 1 pound (500gr) boneless chicken legs. chopped in cubes
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 Tbsp brown sugar
- 1 piece ginger (1 inch), peeled, grated
- 1 Tbsp garlic chili paste
- 1 tsp salt
- 2 Tbsp sunflower oil
- 1 medium onion, diced
- 2 Tbsp tomato paste
- 2 Tbsp smooth peanut butter
- 2 cups chicken stock
- 2 big sweet potatoes peeled and cut in big chunks
- salt, pepper
Directions:
Combine the chicken, garlic, brown sugar, ginger, garlic-chili paste, salt, and oil, and marinade for 30 minutes. Heat the skillet on medium-high heat and add the chicken and the marinade. Stir for 5-8 minutes until the chicken starts to get brown, and add the onion. Stir for another 5 minutes and add the tomato paste, and the peanut butter. Stir for a couple of minutes until everything melds together. Add the chicken stock, sweet potatoes, and the seasonings. Cook for another 20-30 minutes, until the sauce thickens and the potatoes are fork-tender. Serve as is, or with some boiled rice.
I am submitting this to Hearth and Soul event, hosted by Alex of A Moderate Life, Heather, Butter, Christy and Sue.
“Come join Soup-a-Palooza at TidyMom and Dine and Dishsponsored by Bush’s Beans, Hip Hostess, Pillsbury and Westminster Crackers”
Hotel Ruanda je film koji je i mene dotukao toliko da nisam mogla doći k sebi mjesec dana nakon toga.. Afrika je doista impresivan kontinent.. Ja sam bila samo u Tunisu, što i nije baš srce Afrike.. Moj prijatelj pomorac je proputovao pola Afrike i neke od njegovih priča su doista toliko nevjerovatne , gotovo nestvarne za nas koji svaki dan uđemo u topli stan, sa tekućom vodom, punim frižiderom.. A koliko mi možemo pomoći tim ljudima? To su stvari koje mene često muče.. Ali tu sam gdje jesam, pa se trudim pomoći ljudima koji su oko mene..
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Nadam se svakako da ću i ja jednom organizirati neku turneju po Africi, pa se možda vidimo negdje na Viktorijinim slapovima
A gulaš je odličan.. volim isprobavati uvijek nove okuse i internacionalnu kuhinju.. Ma što nisi malo bliže da svratim na ručak ?
Beautiful post Lana ^_^ I’ve been to Morocco but I’d love to venture further into Africa…I once ate Ethiopian food which was served on a big flatbread at a restaurant in London or maybe Tokyo, I’d love to try your recipe.
Very touching, Lana…I feel those stabs of pain and despair when I watch the films or hear the stories of genocide…it twists my insides. I do think it’s important that we teach our children the good things that are rooted in tradition and wash away the sadness, if only for a while. Beautiful, thanks so much for sharing w/ the hearth and soul hop…this week and always
A truly good writer pulls you into the story – as so many of the ones you mentioned did to you – but you also pulled me in, reminding me of how these stories affected my life. I hope you get to Africa one day, I am sure it will be worth the wait. I have had an african peanut chicken stew bookmarked forever – I think I like yours better and so would my kids! Thanks for sharing this with the Hearth and Soul Hop!
@Andrea, znaš šta, jezero Viktorija nam dodje negde na pola puta, he, he. Baš bi bilo interesantno da se sretnemo u sred Afrike:)
Ovaj gulaš je vrlo jednostavan, i savršeno izbalansiran, što se ukusa tiče, posebno ako si ljubitelj slatkog, crvenog krompira. Dajem ga tati svake godine da poseje, ali mu ne ide. No dodjem ja povremeno u stari kraj (na leto dolazim svakako), pa se može organizovati neka “gulašijada”:)
@Sasa, you at least stepped on the African continent:) Morocco counts, as long as it wasn’t only the airport (I do not recognize transfers as visiting a country – a constant squabble between my husband and me:)
My daughter just told me a few days ago that she had eaten in an Ethiopian restaurant in Berkeley – I’ll have to try it next time.
@Heather, there is too much sadness around the world. I just want my kids to be aware how lucky they are. Thanks to the technology, they can watch the movies and read the articles on Internet, and find a way to make even the tiniest change in someone’s life.
@Christy, thanks so much! I know that you do not need to be reminded how the other two-thirds of this world live, but nevertheless I am glad my writing can be influential:)
Your story is very touching. Thank you so much for sharing it. African food is the cuisine I have the least experience. I’ll definitely be trying this recipe.
Food travel is a great way to go to those places that you can’t because of time, money or circumstance. This week in my kitchen we have traveled to Italy and India. I hope you get to Africa one day. Great post!
Thank you so much for sharing. My roomate in college was the child of parents who were stationed in Kenya (she had spent most of her childhood there). Whenever she spoke of Africa, you could knew it was pulling at her heart. There are few things in this world that I have seen evoke the same passion and sense of mission that emmanates from those who have been touched by a piece of Africa.
Very different… will definitely try it! Thanks for the info, also, about the Hearth and Soul event. Great to find a regular one to check out. I’d like to invite you to participate in Foodie Friday. First one is this Friday. Thanks again for this delicious sounding recipe.
Just wanted to let you know I have linked to your recipe in a post with our (The Chef and I) top picks from the Soup-a-Palooza and we can’t wait to try it. I’d like to invite you to participate in our Foodie Friday event. Thanks again!