Nigerians will look me straight in the eye and tell me that one of the spiciest dishes I’ve ever attempted to eat isn’t spicy; it’s normal. The first time that happened, I thought this guy was messing with me. Then I thought maybe it was a macho thing. I told him several times that this catfish, while delicious, was incredibly spicy for me. He finally asked the woman who had hosted the party if the catfish was spicy, and she turned to me and asked “for her,” pointing at me. I nodded. And she confirmed that yes I would find that dish very spicy.
He felt terrible. He wasn’t messing with me or anything. It really just was a normal dish for him, and he apologized profusely. I was not offended, but I was confused about how he didn’t think it was spicy at all.
I didn’t think much of it except to laugh when I told Kevin about it later. But then it happened again and again. People earnestly telling me I won’t find this dish spicy. I just don’t even ask anymore and assume it will be very hot. That scene in Ted Lasso where he’s eating Indian spicy food, that is me when I’m eating at a Nigerian restaurant.
The dish in question is a grilled catfish that they cover in this pepper sauce. (I've been trying to add a link here but it's not working so, https://www.thepretendchef.com/baked-catfish-point-and-kill/#google_vignette) If you follow that link you’ll notice it calls for 200g of scotch bonnet peppers which are 40 times hotter than jalapeños plus the same amount of cayenne. It tastes amazing, but I have to dig past the spiced skin so that I’m only eating the white flesh to have any hope. And even then, I can only take a few bites. That is a normal heat level for the Nigerian dishes I’ve had so far.
One of the best places to find local food is a bush bar. These are roughly what the street food scene around here is. I’m not sure if the local bush bar has an official name, but everyone at the school calls it the Rusty Shed (they named it after the description of the “bathroom” so I’ll let you imagine that.)
It’s the kind of place that has whatever they have for alcohol and food and you can take that or nothing. Which isn’t to say that there aren’t options. There might be 2-3 kinds of mostly identical-tasting lagers, wine that’s been open for who knows how long and a few spirits. They probably have gin, Jameson and maybe vodka. A few people, including Kevin, have learned the hard way that ordering vodka can occasionally go terribly wrong because they ordered a vodka tonic and were served chocolate vodka.
Food-wise there is usually some kind of suya, which is West Africa’s meat-on-a-stick option. It could be goat, chicken, or beef from what I’ve seen. Again I don’t think you usually get to choose which one at a bush bar. I loved the goat suya we had and went in for seconds despite the heat. The French fries (“chips”) made from either yams or white potatoes that are also a staple really help cut the heat. Indomie is also typically available. Indomie is a brand of instant noodles but also the name of the dish. Instead of making it into soup like ramen, they drain the water, mix in peas and carrots and serve it with a plain omelet. It is simple but effective.
The Rusty Shed
We have been going out to eat on Fridays and checking out different spots. We went to a Chinese restaurant, West Africa’s first craft brewery, Bature, and food trucks to name a few. And this is where I start to struggle with how to describe places. The local food and bush bars are easier because I don’t really have much to compare them to, but these other places I do. But I've been reflecting on fair or helpful that ultimately is.
Bature Brewing
It’s not like I can’t tell you about them in a basic way: the veggie dumplings and ginger chicken were great at the Chinese place. The rice was not cooked in a rice cooker and was trash. The brewery was great compared to the other beer here but “meh” on a broader scale, and the food trucks were “normal.” It was like any other food truck place I’d been to. Pretty lights, little swings and cute arches where you’re meant to take photos to post on Instagram. The food trucks have a mixture of local food, fusion food, desserts, and booze/mocktails.
So again I’m back to this concept of normal and what even is normal? Especially since I’m trying to tell you all about it. My impulse is to show all the ways this place is similar or relatable to what is “normal” for me and likely for you. And to a certain extent, I think that is useful. In the Western zeitgeist, “Africa” is still some monolithic, mysterious, vaguely backward place that we know very little about except when something bad happens that gets a few minutes of airtime on the news. And the truth of a place rarely resembles the way it’s portrayed in the 24-hour news media.
But I really don’t want to try to only validate Abuja in my mind and in yours because of how it is like the West. If I do that, then any way it is different automatically becomes a fault when there’s not necessarily anything wrong with the difference. Abuja doesn’t need to be like San Francisco or Berlin to be worthwhile. There is more than one right way to do things.
So this is the needle I’m trying to thread while talking about life here. I want to make it feel relatable because so rarely do we hear that narrative. But I also don’t want to only uplift or celebrate the parts of the place or culture that are Westernized or Western adjacent.
While I’m writing, I’d love to hear how you think I’m doing at this task. I’m certainly not perfect and my biases will undoubtedly come through. In my last post, Michelle and I were talking and she was like “hey you described this thing as ‘weirdly modern’ and that’s not cool or the best way to say that” (I’m paraphrasing; she was more nuanced.) And I completely understood and appreciated the feedback.
So now that I’ve gotten all meta on you and taken this to a place that I am really unsure of how to wrap up effectively, I’ll leave you there until the next time that inspiration strikes.
Thanks for reading!
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