It was few minutes after 9am on
a cold winter Sunday morning. We met at a friend’s car park and drove to
Salaama Hut, a Somali restaurant in Etobicoke, Toronto to enjoy a Somali
breakfast. We arrived at the restaurant around 10:15am and by 10:25am we were
waiting for our meals.
Anjeera - A Somali Staple |
To impress the Somalis in the
restaurant we started by greetings in the Somali way:
Subah Wanaagsan. Iska waran? Of which
they responded ficaan.
I was at the restaurant with a
Maasai from Kajiado, a Somali from Kebir Dahar (Qabri Dahare), and an Amhara
with a mixed background from Bedeno.
The hospitability of the owner,
whom I have known since 2015, when I first did my research about Somali
gastronomy, was exceptionally warm. Furthermore, the chef and waiters
also gave us special consideration – it seems most of their customers are
Somali.
Chapati and Kidney Stew |
We ordered for different
cuisines from the menu. These different preferences may be based on our past
experiences, knowledge about food and proneness to adventure. The Amhara and
Somali ordered malawah and
kidney stew, the Maasai ordered chapati and
kidney stew and I ordered malawah and liver stew. The only thing that was
common for all of us was the Somali tea which was made from hot water, ginger,
black tea, sugar and milk. We enjoyed this tea so much that we had to go for a
second round. This common preference for tea reflects the influence of the colonization
of both our countries of birth and naturalization.
Liver Stew |
As we devoured our food, we
discussed the disappearance of knowledge about indigenous African food and that
the meal we are eating is for the affluent because is always expensive and
challenging to get enough liver or kidney for everyday breakfast stew. The
Somali from Kebir Dahar (Qabri Dahare) alluded to the fact that breakfast in
his region is mostly from Sorghum or millet porridge with milk (if time,
environmental impact, and resources permit). I immediately agreed with him
because I am aware of the regional differences in food preferences among the
Somalis. For example, the Barawe or Bravanese have a special type of muufo
(Somali flatbread) called Muufo
Barawe. Furthermore, he also once asked whether Bajiya is a Somali food and I
replied that it is. Apparently, he is not familiar with it because he grew up
in the Ogaden region and Dadaab. His experience would have been different if he
had grown up in Mogadishu, Hargeisa, or Kismayo before the civil war.
Somali Tea |
It is interesting how space,
time and experience affect our preferences. The Amhara was happy with the
breakfast because it brought back memories of his teenage years in Nazreth (Adama),
Ethiopia. The Maasai indicated that his people in rural areas don’t necessarily
have a breakfast because they wake up early to take the animals for grazing. Maasai
are nomads and traditionally move around in search of water and food for their
livestock. And that is why there is movement of both people and animals across
the Serengeti in Kenya and Tanzania.
Milk may be available at times
from cows. In the Maasai community, the kidney of a goat is usually consumed
raw immediately after slaughter so there is none left for a kidney stew. Kidney
stew is prepared from the cattle. He further indicated that liver stew is more
available, and it is usually a delicacy for pregnant women because it helps to
supplement their iron need. Tea preparation is the same with the Somalis, but it
does not necessarily include ginger but instead, cloves and lemon grass.
To emphasize the importance of
location in food preferences, the Somali indicated that breakfast is a function
of whether you live in the countryside or in a town. In the countryside,
sorghum porridge with milk from camel or cow is consumed in the morning. Milk
is usually from the Nugul (domesticated, non-hardy animals). In the towns, anjeera
with oil and tea is the popular breakfast. Upper middle-class people often eat
their anjeera with kidney or liver. The Amhara corroborated the Somali
assertion by enunciating that our breakfast, kidney or liver stew, at Salaama is
a holiday or festive period cuisine.
As a researcher and because of
my willingness to learn, I felt it will be unfair if we had a Somali breakfast
without anjeera, so I ordered four pieces which we all enjoyed with our
different stews. Anjeera has a fermented aroma unlike malawah that is not
fermented. The waitress was surprised at how voracious we were with the anjeera
and the liver and kidney stews. Little did she know that we have similar food
in our indigenous cuisines – corroborating my thesis that we share a lot in
common with respect to food though the methods of preparation are different.
Towards the end of our stay a
Nigerian, whom I was privileged to teach in 2013, joined us. I asked him for
the main breakfast for the people of eastern Nigeria, His response was that
there is no eastern Nigerian food but there are Nigerian foods. This is an
indication that identity and ethnicity are difficult concepts. Culture itself is
not static, and people have different ways of defining themselves
including what they think is culturally
appropriate.
What a Sunday morning! We left
my former student to experience the Somali breakfast for the first time while
we drove back to Guelph. This experience was nostalgic for the Amhara, new for
my former student, similar for the Maasai, cultural for the Somali and heavenly
for me. Authenticity is mostly defined by how it was made back home or by our
mum “narrative
of affiliative desire”. We will go back in the summer.
Mahadsanid
Salaama Hut.
*It was a sumptuous meal that I
spent the next few days watching and listening to Somalia Toso by
Ilyas Mao ft. Saabik Poetry.
Bamidele
Adekunle
ECVOntario
& Intellectnomics Research Group (IRG)
SEDRD,
University of Guelph