Food is one of the essential needs of a man's life. Every man who is opportuned to sleep and wake up fights for his next goal, trying to have something in the stomach.
I remember when I was eight. I lived with only my Dad. My Mom and siblings had traveled to the city. My Mom had to go stay with one of my siblings who had delivered a baby. My elder siblings had traveled to find greener pastures in the city. Being the last child and still a little boy, I stayed with my Dad.
Staying with my Dad was a memorable time for me. My Dad was my immediate family. It was indeed a memorable time because I only knew how to boil water and my Dad too couldn't cook some meals. Because of the lack of the skill and knowledge of the recipes to cook, my Dad and I dwelled on taking bread and tea for breakfast. Since I knew how to boil water, tea and bread were our closest options for breakfast.
We only survived by God's grace eating whatever we were able to make for lunch and dinner. When my Mom and siblings were staying around with us, we regularly had our meals at the dining table, but since their absence, my dad and I ate less often at the dining table. Whenever our tea and bread were ready, we used to take them to our rooms.
Every delicious meal to be served for a family or guests must be prepared by a cook who knows the food recipes by heart. For every meal, there is always a recipe to achieve the desired quality and taste the cook is anticipating. Every mother of a house or a hired house cook serving meals to the family can only make the people at the dining table smile while eating by preparing the meal with the correct recipe.
Wrong recipes can waste a sumptuous meal. My Dad and I were tired of the usual morning tea and bread, afternoon and evening jollof rice so we invited one of my aunts who helped us prepare a very delicious soup. By the time she finished cooking the soup, it was already late in the evening so she had to leave the rest of the cooking for us. My Dad and I were left with the task of making the starch which would be served together with the soup.
I could remember the recipe my Mom often followed to make her "garri" for the soup, so I told my Dad that I could make the "garri" but he never believed me. He chose to make a Semolina by looking at the recipe written on the packet. Despite looking at the recipe, he wasn't able to make it perfect because he lacked experience. The Semolina he made was almost watery and could only be made into balls by great effort. We didn't want to sleep without eating, my Dad then served the meal the way it was prepared on the dining table. That day was the most memorable as we dwelled on this meal for over an hour and some minutes because the Semolina which was supposed to be smooth and moldable was almost as watery as Quaker oats made with cold water.
All these sufferings of lack of adequate desired meals as a family were due to ignorance of the recipes of the meals we wanted. But I am happy now my Mom has returned home and we now enjoy our meal at the dining table together with warm smiles on our faces. My Mom has a food menu to help her maintain steady and proper meals.
Understanding the importance of food recipes is understanding quality and taste. My Mom, to help herself recall some confusing recipes, pasted some of them on the kitchen walls. This shows that she is a woman who knows the importance of serving her family quality meals and that is only achievable with the knowledge of the right recipes. She pasted those recipes on the wall when she returned after listening to our story, how we survived during her absence in case of any time she would be absent again.
Now I am happy to announce that I am one of the best cooks in our home. I love food so much that my Dad would always tease me most times saying, "Boy, you can sell your brain for food." I love to cook food with lots of pepper.
Things have changed now. I am living in a dormitory where we are not allowed to cook and one has to buy food from restaurants. I love visiting the cafeteria whenever I want to enjoy the delicious sauced spaghetti.
But whenever I want to enjoy our local diet, the sweetest soup ever, the Afang soup, I will visit Nnadora's Kitchen and have a delicious meal.
A family will often enjoy great meals as long as the cook is experienced and kindly vexed with the recipes.
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