Butternut Squash and Leek Soup with Roasted Cauliflower and Toasted Egusi Seeds

I've been staring at the egusi seeds on my counter for a few weeks as I tried to figure out how to use them. Egusi looks almost exactly like a watemelon on the outside, but looks completely different on the inside with bitter white flesh and delicious seeds that taste like pumpkin seeds. 

Most people will know egusi through the famous Nigerian egusi soup (more appropriately called a stew), which is one of my favorite West African dishes. But the whole point of this food blog is to try new things, right? So I racked my brain and wondered what they would taste like toasted. They're about 30% protein, and a great addition to any vegetarian's diet.

Egusi seeds are usually ground before they're added to soup, so I've never eaten them whole. After I made this soup, I discovered that roasted egusi seeds have a delicious nutty taste that's a cross between sesame seeds and peanuts. They make a great addition to thick soups because of the little crunch they add. I think I'll roast some and eat them as a snack next , or experiment and see what they taste like as a nut butter.

Serves 2

1 large butternut squash, chopped and cubed
2 cups leeks, sliced and roughy chopped
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 cups of chicken stock
1 teaspoon cumin
1 head cauliflower
1/4 cup egusi seeds
3 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and cayenne pepper, to taste

1. In a medium-sized pot, heat the oil. Add the leeks, shallot, and garlic, and cook until softened. Cook for 10 minutes, then add the spices.

2. Add the chicken stock with 2 cups of water and salt and cook on low to medium heat for about 30 minutes or until the squash is soft and the soup becomes fragrant.

3. Using an immersion blender or a standing blender, blend the soup until it is uniform in texture.

4. In a large pan, add 1 teaspoon of oil. Add cauliflower and brown on both sides. Add salt and pepper, then set aside.

5. In a small pan, add a tiny bit of butter and add the egusi seeds. Brown them on both sides over low heat.

Smoothie Bowl Adventures, Part Un

I’m a self-described foodie, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not health conscious. Instead of trying and failing at my usual New Year’s Resolution to go on a diet and say no to the baguette, I decided to focus instead of re-learning the art of eating. My friend Larissa shared this Guardian article by Bee Wilson on re-thinking our culture’s disordered and obsessive relationship with food. 

Wilson writes that “in today’s food culture, many people seem to have acquired uncannily homogenous tastes. ” Later, she goes on to say that “once we accept that eating is a learned behaviour, we see that the challenge is not to grasp information but to learn new habits… The point is that before you can become a carrot eater, the carrots have to be desirable.”

I’m on a quest to eat locally and healthfully — to integrate more fruits and vegetables into my diet without succumbing to the temptations of oil and butter.

I’m Kenyan-American, so I also grew up eating quite a bit of meat, especially red meat. However, as I think more about reducing my own carbon footprint and eating as many natural products as much as possible, I’ve pledged to Meatless Mondays and Wednesdays in solidarity with another of my dear friends, Emefa (My very traditional Kenyan father would probably be horrified if he read this post). 

Enter my new smoothie and soup obsession. 

One of the most popular Instagram trends these days is the smoothie bowl. My friend Mariah Amter of M’s Smoothies and Colorful Eats (@mamter) is at the forefront of that trend. I delight in the color of flavor of her gorgeous smoothie bowls. 

I’m an amateur and I’m slowly learning how to make my smoothie bowls prettier, so you’ll have to forgive me on these first two attempts. I told you I’d be transparent about my trials and errors in recipe development on this food blog. Nigella Lawson wasn’t built in a day and neither was Jikoni.

According to Bon Appetit, a good smoothie bowl has five main components: 

1. The Base
2. The Fruit/Vegetable
3. The Crunch
4. The Health Boosters
5. The Sweetener

For the first bowl, my base was yogurt. Fruit: pineapple, passion fruit, mango, watermelon. Topping: desiccated coconut. I skipped the crunch and doubled up on my health booster, baobab. Sweetener: agave nectar. 

For the second bowl, my base was almond milk. My fruits and vegetables were mango, cucumber, and banana. My topping was the sunflower seeds. My crunch? Tiger nuts. My health boosters were (you guessed it) baobab and moringa. And my sweeter was honey. 

Let me know if you’ve got any ideas for a smoothie bowl! 

Roasted Cauliflower and Carrot Pepe Soup

This soup has a strong, earthy flavor with a spicy kick to give you a good antioxidant dose and get your metabolism going. I've been reducing my intake of meat lately, so I topped the soup with some moringa to give me a protein boost.

In West Africa, you'll find your fair share of pepper fanatics. Pepper (or "pepe" as many will call it) can make or break an otherwise bland dish. Growing up in a Gambian household, I thought that I was well adapted to spicy dishes. When I arrived in Ghana, I was proved wrong. In my few months here, I've eaten many a dish so hot that it feels like my mouth is on fire. But culinary Curious George I am, I persisted. Now, I'm proud to say that I can eat my friend Julie's okro soup without hesitation. I think the ultimate spice challenge will be attempting a true Indian vindaloo at its full spice potential. Pray for my tastebuds, y'all. 

If you're not too good with spice, use one scotch bonnet for this recipe instead of two. 

Enjoy!

Serves 6 - 8 people.

1 large yellow onion
4 cloves fresh garlic, minced
2 pounds carrots, peeled and chopped
1 head cauliflower, broken into small florets
Sea salt & fresh ground pepper
1 bay leaf
2 Scotch bonnets, stemmed, seeded, and minced
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 cups all-natural vegetable broth
2 cups water

1. Preheat oven to 425°F.
2. In a large baking pan toss cauliflower, carrots, and garlic with oil to coat and roast in middle of oven until golden (about 30 minutes).
3. Heat oil in a large stockpot over medium heat. Add the chopped onion, and cook, stirring occasionally until golden brown (about 8 minutes). Add bay leaf.
4. Pour in the vegetable stock, and add the roasted vegetables.
5. Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to simmer for 25 minutes or until the vegetables are tender. Discard the bay leaf.
6. Using a blender and working in batches, puree until the ingredients are smooth.
7. Garnish with herbs or vegetables of your choice. 

Makes a great make-ahead lunch meal for the work week if you freeze it!

The Breakfast Staple That Transcends All Borders

I've been following Anthony Bourdain-backed travel website Roads and Kingdoms for quite some time. The website bills itself as a "next-generation travel, food, music and journalism platform." And it's living up to its lofty goals: it's won two James Beard nominations, an IACP nod, and was named the best Travel Journalism site by the Society of American Travel Writers. I was really excited when the editorial team gave me the chance to write for their breakfast series. Check my ode to "diasporic dough" below and find it live on the Roads and Kingdoms website here. 

THE BREAKFAST STAPLE THAT TRANSCENDS ALL BORDERS

Bofrot in Accra

Across Africa and its diaspora, certain recipes and techniques stretch across borders. The most famous diasporic staple is likely West Africa’s okra stew, which shares similarities with New Orleans’ gumbo and caruru in Brazil’s Bahia, the hub of the Afro-Brazilian culture. But less well-noted are African and diasporic variations of fritters.

Louisiana has its beignets. Kenya, its mandazi. In Ghana, the fried dough of choice is bofrot, also called togbei, or “goat’s balls” in Ga, the language of one of the ethnic groups native to the Accra region.

Each morning, in the congested Accra traffic, street vendors weave in and out of the treacherous maze of cars selling on-the-go snacks. Boxes filled with bofrot and other pastries are balanced precariously on their heads. Drivers and passengers crammed in trotros, the local form of public transport, dive into their pockets in search of a few coins to exchange with hawkers before traffic begins moving again.

But you can’t get your bofrot from just anyone. A tried-and-true bofrot connoisseur, I find the bofrot sold on the street to be soggy after sitting too long. I prefer to purchase mine from a lovely lady named Ama, who starts deep frying the delicious round doughnuts each morning in Osu, Accra’s hustling, bustling “Times Square.” By now, Ama and I have a steady rhythm. Rolling down the car window in the morning, I’m always greeted with a warm smile and a raspy voice saying “εte sεn? One cedi?”

For the equivalent of twenty-five cents, I get two warm bofrot. Not the healthiest of foods, I (regretfully) indulge sparingly, just two or three times a week. While a popular breakfast snack, alongside other popular go-to’s like kooko (maize porridge) or kye bom (fried egg and bread), bofrot is also a staple at parties and weddings. As a sweet finger-food, it stands out in a culture dominated by salty and savory dishes.

Some Ghanaian friends tell me that traditionalists use palm wine in place of yeast, which gives it a distinctive taste. An uncle with a sweet tooth advises rolling the bofrot in powdered sugar to make it sweeter. As I perform my own gastronomic experiments at home, I dip the bofrot in a passion fruit glaze and delight in the sweet-and-tart taste.

Growing up, I was accustomed to bofrot’s Kenyan cousin, mandazi, which often features coconut milk and spices like ginger and cardamom and is frequently cut into triangles. Mandazi is more dense, with a consistency similar to cake rather than a beignet. Less sweet than bofrot, mandazi are often served with chai tea, a nod to Kenya’s fusion of Indian and African culture.

Different regions call for twists that alter the texture and taste, but the core components to diasporic dough always follow the simple formula: flour, yeast, sugar, water. The omnipresence of such a simple snack across the globe ensures that a piece of home is never too far away. A Kenyan-American in Ghana, my bi-weekly trip to Ama’s bofrot stand cures even the worst bout of homesickness.

Roasted Beetroot and Carrot Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons

Like Solange Knowles, I love color. My wardrobe is riddled with vibrant jewel tones and bold prints, so it should come as no surprise that I am similarly drawn to colorful dishes. If I'm being honest, I probably love beets because of their vibrant purple shade as much as I love their taste. One of my favorite ways to use excess vegetables is to make soup because it keeps well and can easily be frozen. With some beets, carrots, and sweet potato lying around, I decided to make a rich roasted beetroot and carrot soup with sweet potato croutons. To give it an extra punch of flavor, I was a little heavy-handed when it came to the spices. To give it a true Ghananian twist, I added a tablespoon of moringa. 

Although I've known about moringa's properties for years thanks to my mother, who swears that a bit of moringa a day keeps the doctor away, I was recently re-introduced to the "miracle tree" when I met Kwami Williams of Moringa Connect, an Echoing Green Fellow and former rocket scientist turned social entrepreneur. Moringa comes from a tree that thrives in the arid Sahel region. Its leaves have more vitamin A than carrots, more protein than eggs, more calcium than milk and more iron than spinach. 

Roasted Beetroot and Carrot Soup with Sweet Potato Croutons
Serves 4

For soup:
6 medium beetroots
4 large carrots
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 can coconut milk (400 ml) 
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp smoked paprika
2 cloves garlic
1 lemon
1 tablespoon moringa
Salt and pepper to taste 

For croutons: 
4 medium sweet potatoes, cubed in small pieces
Salt and pepper to taste
1 medium Spanish onion 

1. Peel and chop the beetroots and carrots, drizzle them with olive oil, and roast at 375 degrees Fahrenheit for 1 hour until cooked through.
2. Remove from the oven and place in a large stockpot with the coconut milk, spices, salt, and pepper. Purée with an immersion blender until smooth. Add water as needed to reach desired consistency.
3. In a pan, sauté the sweet potatoes and onion until slightly crispy. 
4. You can add a few spring onions for color if you have them on hand. Bon appetit! 

Curried Tamarind Lentils and Sweet Potatoes

Curried lentils and sweet potatoes à la Smitten Kitchen. I added my own twist with some 1/2 teaspoon of tamarind paste (to create a sweet-and-sour effect) and some leftover smoked turkey from my Ghanaian thanksgiving.

Here's my take: 

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 teaspoons garam masala
1 1/2 teaspoons curry powder
4 to 5 cups vegetable broth
3 peeled sweet potatoes
1 1/2 cups dried lentils
1 teaspoon salt
2 scotch bonnet peppers
Juice of 1/2 lime
1 tbsp tamarind paste
1/4 cup chopped spring onions 

1. In large pot, heat the oil. Add onion and sauté until translucent. Add garlic, ginger, garam masala, curry powder and some pepper (adjust to your taste). When the spices have been adequately mixe

2. When the spices have been adequately mixed, stir in the broth, the sweet potatoes, and lentils. Add the tamarind paste to the hot broth and allow it to dissolve. Bring it to a boil and allow it to simmer for half an hour. Allow it to cook until the lentils and the sweet potatoes are soft. 

3. Stir in the lime juice just before serving and garnish with the spring onions.