Ejidé

The first time I visited Houston was in 2015. My childhood friend and tour guide repeatedly took me to these fly-in-the-wall joints that served African meals. I was too giddy and excited to be out & about, so I never paid any attention to what was going on -until I saw the third plate of Jollof rice and Goatmeat land in my front- within my first two days of arrival. At that moment, I realized I was getting shortchanged. Why was I not somewhere ordering Mac n Cheese as a side or wrapping my lips around a Taco? Why was I in these dingy spots that reminded me so much of where I had come? I turned to my friend and protested angrily, "Burger Me Please!". From then on, you would think we had a residency at Waffle House and Popeyes -this was way before the chicken sandwich- and boy was I well pleased. "I could eat all the African food I cared for in two weeks." I had thought to myself, "Right now, it's strictly taste of Americana (you could throw some Asian in too!)."

At the time, I didn't appreciate how the palate in some of us shares a very close relationship with familiar tastes and cravings linked to our upbringing. My tour guide had good intentions, he had lived in the US for only five years before my visit, and like me, he lived in Nigeria almost all his life. Yes, he enjoyed all the drive-thrus and buffets, but by bringing me around only African eats, he was doing what seemed natural, and what he thought would feel natural to me also. I forgive him for failing to realize that vacation meant food adventures also.

In 2018, I relocated permanently to Houston. As time went by, my body began rejecting all the American grub I had been force-feeding it. This rejection became physical, with the evidence in stomach upsets and headaches. I began yearning for my mother's cooking. It wasn't long before I had to turn back to the same dingy fly-in-the-wall places I had denounced a few years back.

I happily began sampling the plethora of African Restaurants that abound in the Space City.

African dishes are, for the most part, an amalgamation of different, complex food processes. Their preparation involves the tedious task of grinding, pounding, soaking, extracting, drying, smoking, and multiple other complicated steps. The way you chop a vegetable can harm the quality of a meal. Everything is precise and anal. Because we are far away from the continent, it is hard to lay hands on most of the essential ingredients that go into our meals, so many of us here in the diaspora tend to substitute ingredients based on their scarcity. For example, spinach is an all-time favorite substitute for any meal requiring a green vegetable.

Very few restauranteurs go through the trouble of procuring authentic ingredients, judging by the quality of the food they serve. A lot of the restaurants I visited during my exploration fell victim to this lazy route. I had two choices, either cook myself or succumb to the low standards. I opted for the first option but sourcing expensive ingredients and spending upwards of 3 hours in the kitchen every other day was not sustainable.

My luck was about to change on an idle Wednesday evening when a friend of mine invited me out for dinner. That night we rode in the same wagon and arrived at a house with four cars parked in the driveway. Without knocking, my friend opened the front door of the home. We both walked into a big living room with the TV volume on full blast. I kept following behind him as we walked past a sapphire blue sectional and an ottoman of the same color and made our way to the kitchen and dining room area. On the kitchen counter were a couple of gigantic food coolers, serving utensils, and stacked up ceramic plates and bowls.

My friend and I sat around the seven-half-feet long dining table, already sparsely occupied by several other people eating and drinking with the Madame hovering over them in friendly jest and hype. Ejidé, The Madame of the house, came around to us still in smiles from the last joke she overheard. She lovingly exchanged pleasantries with my friend in Yoruba, took his order, turned to me, and asked what I would like to eat, proceeding to recite the specials from memory. She acted towards me like a long-lost nephew, and if matriarchy had a direct correlation with great-tasting supper, then my hopes were high as I ordered the Catfish Pepper Soup.

Now pepper soup is such a simple but intricate dish that comprises Alligator pepper, powdered crayfish, grains of Selim, calabash nutmeg, and Aidan fruit, to name a few. Without these golden goose items, it could only go two ways; Gordon Ramsey or Guy Fiery. Needless to say, when the bowl arrived piping hot, I wasn't the least bit disappointed. The taste was just as consistent as I had imagined.

My visits within the next few months were frequent and not far in between. Every time the mood seemed like one big family party until suddenly it was time to switch venues. The party just got bigger. Ejide took out a commercial lease and recreated the same ecstatic freedom of feeling at home. She christened it DD's BBQ RESTAURANT.

In writing about her new outlet, I want to be as authentic as her cooking, so here is an online review from a first time customer;

"It was Friday night. We needed a Girl's night out. The last few months since March working in a Hospital had been stressful and challenging. We headed to DD's to unwind on our night out. OMG!, the Music from the LIVE BAND was amazing! I was dancing before I entered the door. The Saxophonists played amazing Nigerian Music, done so professionally. I was dancing on my feet the whole time. The Nigerian Food is so so delicious. We ordered and took out. I felt the stress of months roll off my shoulders."

This time, unlike at her residence, there is a fully stocked bar that boasts a complete Nigerian beer catalog, a LIVE BAND playing JUJU & FUJI Music every weekend, a pool table, and multiple TVs for sports fans. The Menu has expanded tremendously, and most importantly, the experience remains unforgettable.

In recent times African cuisine has enjoyed its 15minutes. Popular social media influencers are recording and posting videos of themselves trying out our popular "Fufu" by hand or including our dishes in mukbangs. I must say I take pride in sharing my culture with people now I have Ejide to thank for that. Through her resilience and uncompromising standards, I can spread the goodness of the continent and brag about cultural history. A heavily tattooed man riding a motorcycle might not show up just yet, but I'm confident he would endorse when he does.