African Salads: Not an oxymoron.

[tweetmeme source=”ThatchRoom” only_single=false]A popular Nigerian joke goes: President Nnamdi Azikiwe and Ozumba Mbadiwe attended a stately dinner in Europe whereupon they were served the first course (a salad, naturally) and all proceeded to eat – except Ozumba. After looking around bewildered, tossing the leaves, first this way and then that way, he finally tapped his friend in a panic: “Zik, dem cook ya own? My own no done oo!”.

Of all the things we Africans are accused of, being a people of salads is not one of them. We are a fiercely carnivorous lot it seems. Bring on the suya please, the kebab, the isi-ewu, the nyama-choma, the Nkwobi, the kilitshi, the dambunama, the asun, the tinko eran.. and the list goes on. When we are not delicately braiding cow intestines for peppersoup, we are chewing and sucking on chicken bone marrows. We romanticize our meat, christening animal body parts with the same vivid imagination, sense of humor and attention to detail that makes us oh so African. Names such as roundabout (for tail skin),