Many Ghanaians eat heavy meals for breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner. I am usually on the go though and have smaller meals throughout the day, then a bigger one in the evening.
Breakfast
Breakfast for me here is either cereal and milk or fruit; the latter is sold on every road for crazy cheap. You can buy a huge mango, a papaya, or a pineapple for one cede (38 cents US) and the vendor will peel and cut it into a to-go bag for you right there. There are also bananas, plantains, apples, pears, oranges, watermelon... You name it. Yum.
When my wonderful Grandma Eunice heard I was pining for some items from the US, she sent the best care package ever. After three weeks of uncertainty that it would make it overseas, the package finally arrived full of protein powder, Trader Joe's trail mix, and Starbucks instant coffee, among other treats that I usually tie into breakfast. Thank you Grandma!!!
Lunch
Many restaurants, called "chop bars," offer meals of soups and stews for lunch. I usually opt for combinations of the snacks you can buy from street vendors though instead of big sit-down lunches.
By around 11:00 vendors are in full force, carrying huge containers on their heads peddling a variety of foods. If I see something I haven't seen before, I generally buy it just to try once even if it looks undesirable. Most foods aren't more than one cede so if they're terrible, it's not a huge financial loss. The most common roadside foods include:
- Meat pies. Triangular pastries about the size of an open hand. Taste like Pillsbury biscuits. Apparently the meat is inside, but the one time I tried one I found only a tiny brown dot of sauce in the middle of the doughy biscuit. I guess that was meat? This was a one-time purchase.
- Egg pies. Similar to a meat pie, but with a hard boiled egg in the middle. I feel like sidewalk boiled eggs are a bad idea so this one I have not yet tried.
Egg pie vendor
- The "other" (awesome) egg pies: Face-sized pockets filled with a mixture of scrambled eggs and onions, deep fried. For some reason when I see the eggs cooked in front of me, even if in a vat of boiling oil, they seem more legitimate than hard boiled eggs that could have been cooked days ago. These egg pies are delicious but a definite heart attack waiting to happen.
- Corn: Either roasted on open coals or boiled in the husks. I hated both versions when I first tried them, as the roasted kind is very chewy and the boiled kind has no flavor. What good is corn on the cob without butter and salt, or chili and lime? But the roasted version grew on me, and the vendors will dunk it in salt water per request. The salt water is pretty unhygeinic if you think about it; I'm probably asking for a parasite. But I choose my battles here.
- Plantains: My obsession. Roasted over open coals like the corn, and you can buy little packets of groundnuts (peanuts) to eat with them. You break open the hot plantains length-wise and kind of jam the nuts in, and voila! Ghanaian version of banana and chunky peanut butter. The plantains alone are awesome as well. I usually have one each day as a between-meals snack.
- Variations on deep fried dough: Doughnuts. Nugget-shaped chips. Flat chips. Squiggly chips. The only ovens here are in conventional bakeries so most things are deep fried as an alternative to baked. Not particularly tasty, but also not bad.
- Groundnut candy: Peanut brittle. I sort of convinced myself its a healthy option. Nuts are good for you, right?
My lovely roommate Sara and I returned from a very late evening last weekend, starving. We raided the mostly-bare fridge and the care packages we had both recently received. It wasn't until after we'd chowed down that we realized the strangeness of all that was on the table, from both before our food frenzy and after.
When my wonderful Grandma Eunice heard I was pining for some items from the US, she sent the best care package ever. After three weeks of uncertainty that it would make it overseas, the package finally arrived full of protein powder, Trader Joe's trail mix, and Starbucks instant coffee, among other treats that I usually tie into breakfast. Thank you Grandma!!!
Lunch
Many restaurants, called "chop bars," offer meals of soups and stews for lunch. I usually opt for combinations of the snacks you can buy from street vendors though instead of big sit-down lunches.
By around 11:00 vendors are in full force, carrying huge containers on their heads peddling a variety of foods. If I see something I haven't seen before, I generally buy it just to try once even if it looks undesirable. Most foods aren't more than one cede so if they're terrible, it's not a huge financial loss. The most common roadside foods include:
- Meat pies. Triangular pastries about the size of an open hand. Taste like Pillsbury biscuits. Apparently the meat is inside, but the one time I tried one I found only a tiny brown dot of sauce in the middle of the doughy biscuit. I guess that was meat? This was a one-time purchase.
- Egg pies. Similar to a meat pie, but with a hard boiled egg in the middle. I feel like sidewalk boiled eggs are a bad idea so this one I have not yet tried.
- The "other" (awesome) egg pies: Face-sized pockets filled with a mixture of scrambled eggs and onions, deep fried. For some reason when I see the eggs cooked in front of me, even if in a vat of boiling oil, they seem more legitimate than hard boiled eggs that could have been cooked days ago. These egg pies are delicious but a definite heart attack waiting to happen.
- Corn: Either roasted on open coals or boiled in the husks. I hated both versions when I first tried them, as the roasted kind is very chewy and the boiled kind has no flavor. What good is corn on the cob without butter and salt, or chili and lime? But the roasted version grew on me, and the vendors will dunk it in salt water per request. The salt water is pretty unhygeinic if you think about it; I'm probably asking for a parasite. But I choose my battles here.
- Plantains: My obsession. Roasted over open coals like the corn, and you can buy little packets of groundnuts (peanuts) to eat with them. You break open the hot plantains length-wise and kind of jam the nuts in, and voila! Ghanaian version of banana and chunky peanut butter. The plantains alone are awesome as well. I usually have one each day as a between-meals snack.
- Variations on deep fried dough: Doughnuts. Nugget-shaped chips. Flat chips. Squiggly chips. The only ovens here are in conventional bakeries so most things are deep fried as an alternative to baked. Not particularly tasty, but also not bad.
- Groundnut candy: Peanut brittle. I sort of convinced myself its a healthy option. Nuts are good for you, right?
- Ginger dough balls: These are chunks of ginger, groundnut paste, and sugar rolled into balls with the consistency of cookie dough. They are extremely strongly ginger-spiced. I love ginger and I can still only handle a little of this at a time.
- Weird coconutty brittle cookies: I think they're meringue. No one else really likes these but I love them. I can only find them maybe once a week or so and have been known to chase the vendor from across busy intersections to stock up while I can.
Dinner
Most big meals here consist of some form of starch (either banku, fuufuu, or kenke - to be explained) and a stew. Until Ghana, I pictured stew as potatoes, carrots, peas and beef in a heavy brown gravy. Ghanaian stews however are mostly tomato- and oil-based, with some onions and spices usually added. Okra stew is okra, tomato, and oil. Cabbage stew is cabbage, tomato, and oil. Egg stew is egg, tomato, and oil. You get the picture.
Banku is fermented cassava and maize pounded into a dough and served in piping hot tennis ball-sized portions wrapped in plastic. Plain, it tastes like raw sourdough bread dough (or how I would imagine that to taste). I strangely really love banku, though most people merely tolerate it as a vehicle for whatever stew or dish it accompanies.
Fuufuu is similar to banku, minus the sour taste. It is made from pounded cassava and plantain. When I tried it it was stickier than banku, which is really saying something because banku is a mess to try to eat.
Kenke is a little stiffer and is made from pounded maize, then wrapped in plantain leaves and steamed. It's grainier than banku or fuufuu and reminds me of the outside of an enchilada.
As you can imagine from the descriptions above, meals are heavy. And messy: Utensils are not usually utilized by Ghanaians. People eat with their hands, usually by using the starch (any of the three above, or perhaps boiled yams or if you're feeling really messy, rice) to scoop up portions of the accompanying stew or other dish. Its fun to try to eat this way, until you remember there is no running water anywhere and your hands are likely filthy despite the constant dousings of Purell. I opt for utensils, which are usually available for the Obrunis.
Tilapia and Banku
This delicacy deserves its own in-depth explanation.
- Weird coconutty brittle cookies: I think they're meringue. No one else really likes these but I love them. I can only find them maybe once a week or so and have been known to chase the vendor from across busy intersections to stock up while I can.
Dinner
Most big meals here consist of some form of starch (either banku, fuufuu, or kenke - to be explained) and a stew. Until Ghana, I pictured stew as potatoes, carrots, peas and beef in a heavy brown gravy. Ghanaian stews however are mostly tomato- and oil-based, with some onions and spices usually added. Okra stew is okra, tomato, and oil. Cabbage stew is cabbage, tomato, and oil. Egg stew is egg, tomato, and oil. You get the picture.
Banku is fermented cassava and maize pounded into a dough and served in piping hot tennis ball-sized portions wrapped in plastic. Plain, it tastes like raw sourdough bread dough (or how I would imagine that to taste). I strangely really love banku, though most people merely tolerate it as a vehicle for whatever stew or dish it accompanies.
Fuufuu is similar to banku, minus the sour taste. It is made from pounded cassava and plantain. When I tried it it was stickier than banku, which is really saying something because banku is a mess to try to eat.
Kenke is a little stiffer and is made from pounded maize, then wrapped in plantain leaves and steamed. It's grainier than banku or fuufuu and reminds me of the outside of an enchilada.
As you can imagine from the descriptions above, meals are heavy. And messy: Utensils are not usually utilized by Ghanaians. People eat with their hands, usually by using the starch (any of the three above, or perhaps boiled yams or if you're feeling really messy, rice) to scoop up portions of the accompanying stew or other dish. Its fun to try to eat this way, until you remember there is no running water anywhere and your hands are likely filthy despite the constant dousings of Purell. I opt for utensils, which are usually available for the Obrunis.
Tilapia and Banku
This delicacy deserves its own in-depth explanation.
Earlier I mentioned that I'm kind of a pseudo-vegetarian in Ghana, based on the questionable meats. My decision to go meatless was confirmed the day I went for a curious stroll through the market and unknowingly wandered into the butcher section. Huge slabs of raw cow, goat, chicken, and I-don't-even-want-to-know-what else were strewn across tables and market stalls, sizzling in the African sun and surrounded by vulturous flies. I decided at that point that I'd be ok sacrificing protein for two months. The chicken feet and giant snails roasting on sidewalk grills, along with the dried and deep-fried fetid fish being sold out of baskets on women's heads, also removed any desire I might have once had for meat.
Unfortunately, my cautious diet got boring quickly. One evening I worked late and decided to get dinner out in town instead of eating what was prepared at home that night. I passed a woman grilling fresh fish over a giant metal barrel filled with glowing coals. I was starving, and protein-deprived, and decided that since I had been sick to my stomach off and on regardless of what I ate for the past few weeks, I might as well give it a try. When in Africa...?
I was served a half of a giant tilapia marinated in magic and smothered in freshly chopped tomato, onion, and avocado, along with a tennis ball- sized packet of burning hot white Play-Doh wrapped in cellophane.
Unfortunately, my cautious diet got boring quickly. One evening I worked late and decided to get dinner out in town instead of eating what was prepared at home that night. I passed a woman grilling fresh fish over a giant metal barrel filled with glowing coals. I was starving, and protein-deprived, and decided that since I had been sick to my stomach off and on regardless of what I ate for the past few weeks, I might as well give it a try. When in Africa...?
I was served a half of a giant tilapia marinated in magic and smothered in freshly chopped tomato, onion, and avocado, along with a tennis ball- sized packet of burning hot white Play-Doh wrapped in cellophane.
The elderly lady who served me showed me how to pinch off chunks of the banku (not Play-Doh) and use it to pinch off bits of the fish and toppings. It. Was. Sensational. My mouth reveled in masochism as the homemade pepe (hot sauce) simultaneously sizzled my taste buds and demanded I consume more.
Thank goodness the meal was served in the dark street, because there was no ladylike way to approach it. All too soon, I found myself staring down at a pile of fish bones. I felt like one of those cartoon cats that gobbles up a big fish and pulls the full skeleton out of its stomach.
The next week, I brought back some of the other volunteers. We had a giant Obruni tilapia party to celebrate the birthday of one of the other volunteers. The elderly lady (Vic, I learned her name was) welcomed me with a hug and the broken "I have been waiting for you!" Her daughter and sous-chef Portia now hollers out to me in the street every day, asking if I'll be back for fish soon. Tilapia and banku is now a weekly tradition.
And, dear readers, I end this post with the following epic meal:
Thank goodness the meal was served in the dark street, because there was no ladylike way to approach it. All too soon, I found myself staring down at a pile of fish bones. I felt like one of those cartoon cats that gobbles up a big fish and pulls the full skeleton out of its stomach.
The next week, I brought back some of the other volunteers. We had a giant Obruni tilapia party to celebrate the birthday of one of the other volunteers. The elderly lady (Vic, I learned her name was) welcomed me with a hug and the broken "I have been waiting for you!" Her daughter and sous-chef Portia now hollers out to me in the street every day, asking if I'll be back for fish soon. Tilapia and banku is now a weekly tradition.
And, dear readers, I end this post with the following epic meal:
I spy with my little eye:
-Crackers (empty)
-Leftover cold spaghetti noodles
-Rat poison
-Mouse traps
-Chardonnay
-Nutella
-A mosquito coil
-Stale white bread
-Two mobile phones
-Skittles
-Loose Ghanaian change
-Pepper spray
-Red Vines
... The wine had served us each a glass (by glass I mean mug) hours before. This was not an alcohol-fueled late-night meal. Just a desperate Ghanaian one.
Bon appetit!
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