At eight years old, I was full of ambition. I had my mind made up and nothing, absolutely nothing was going to take my dream away.
My dream of…. Read more…
At eight years old, I was full of ambition. I had my mind made up and nothing, absolutely nothing was going to take my dream away.
My dream of…. Read more…
Don’t be deceived by the food porn you see in my regular KB posts: that’s not how I regularly serve my ‘food for eat’. Call me what you like (food pimp even) but I love everything about food – the components, the assembly and the presentation. I enjoy experimenting with colour palettes and taste palates, textures and light. I love to highlight the net skins of cantaloupes and the bum cheeks of peaches, almost as much as I enjoy sushi and (cooking with) wine. I love highlighting the beauty of a dish but that’s not always real – the pretty food you see on this blog represents a tiny portion of my food reality – please don’t take it as the entire gospel. Many a time, I bite into a juicy peach and barely have time to notice the soft downy skin, or the patches of colour. Sometimes I ignore the pleasure of eye candy and focus on the ‘taste’, enjoying the combination of flavour makers that results in a gorgeous plate.
One thing I’ve always wondered about Nigerian food is ‘Does it sit pretty’? My memories of food at home don’t involve elaborate/delicately styled food. Yes, plates are garnished – slices of tomatoes, onions and parsley greenery are common, as are molds of rice and sauce nested in bowls. Read more…
And the winner is of the cookbook giveaway is ……. Read more…
My personal challenge this year, is to recreate foods of my country, Nigeria.
As I’m learning, this is a whole sea of opportunity. So when I saw Kerstin of Cake, Batter & Bowl’s dessert gnocchi with chocolate centres,…I was seriously impressed!

This week on Culinary Tour 2010, hosted by Joan of Foodalogue.com, we’re in Argentina, the second largest country in South America.
As soon as she opened the jar to show me what they looked like, I found myself breathing in the fragrance of my Nigerian childhood (while standing in a Parisian shop on a cold February day): hot, sweaty, scented days; all the intensity of my youth, captured in a few black Tonka beans. Read more…
In Nigeria, we call it Dodo.
No, silly….. not the bird, I’m talking about fried plantains and please don’t ask me why we call them that, ’cause I don’t know the history! Read more…
Surely, any drink that has a double-barelled reference to men in one word is worth a closer look. Enter Chapman.

def. Chapman – an archaic term for an itinerant peddler