Page 97 - Through the eyes of an African chef

chapter five
MY DAD’S RECIPES
THE THREE THINGS I DISTINCTLY REMEMBER ABOUT MY FATHER WAS HIS LOVE FOR THE “BIRD CHILLI”, PICKLES (SUCH AS ONIONS, GHERKINS AND CHILLIES), AND SOUPS. IN THE KITCHEN CUPBOARD HE ALWAYS HAD BISTO GRAVY, WORCESTERSHIRE SAUCE AND WHITE PEPPER – INGREDIENTS CLEARLY SYMBOLIC OF A COSMOPOLITAN MAN.
THE FIRST THING HE EVER TAUGHT ME WAS TO PREPARE A FRIED EGG. I THREW THE EGG IN THE PAN AND JUMPED FAR AWAY FROM THE STOVE, ANTICIPATING AN OIL SPLASH-BACK. HE CALLED ME BACK AND, TIME AND TIME AGAIN, HE CLEANED UP AFTER ME AND WE’D START OVER AGAIN, ADDING MEAT INTO THE EQUATION. SEARING MEAT WAS A MUST. IT WAS A TERM I LEARNT LATER IN LIFE, BUT I WAS TAUGHT THE SKILL AS A CHILD. MY DAD LOVED CHOOSING HIS OWN MEAT AT THE LOCAL BUTCHER, ASKING FOR SPECIFIC PIECES AND COMPLEMENTARY SEASONING. HE TAUGHT ME TO TASTE THE MEAT WHEN IT WAS STILL BLUE. OF COURSE, BACK THEN THERE WERE NO ANTIBIOTICS IN THE MEAT AND ALL THE CRAZY STUFF THAT GETS INJECTED INTO AND FED TO THE ANIMALS WE EAT TODAY.