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By Root 516 0

now a new people. All the world comes together in us and on our plates: Africa, the Americas, Asia, and beyond. We eat hog maws or pickled meat, potatoes or plantain, sweet potatoes or yams or both. Our greens are collards or callaloo or bok choy, and we serve them with everything from a ham hock to a smoked turkey wing to tofu. We savor fine aged rhum agricole and still know how to knock back a good Mason jar of corn liquor or a glass of cachaça.

With a start like that, it’s not surprising, then, that we have our own way with food. We’ve called it our way for centuries and incorporated our wondrous way with food and eating into our daily lives. We have rocked generations of babies to sleep while crooning “Shortenin’ Bread,” laughed to the comedy of “Pigmeat” Markham and “Butterbeans and Susie,” danced the cakewalk, tapped our feet to the music of “Jelly Roll” Morton, shimmied with wild abandon to gutbucket music in juke joints, gotten all hot and sweaty over salsa or sat down with friends and “chewed the fat.” We’ve had the blues over the “Kitchen Man,” searched for our “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch,” called our “Sugar Honey,” and longed to be loved like “Lilac Wine.” When we found the one, we celebrated with a “Pigfoot and a Bottle of Beer” or just kicked back and hollered, “Pass the Courvoisier.”

In short, we’ve created our own culinary universe: one where an ample grandmother presides over a kitchen where the pungent aroma of greens mixes with the molasses perfume of pralines, and the bubbling from a big iron gumbo pot punctuates her soft humming. This is a universe where Aunt Jemima takes off her kerchief and sits down at the table, where Uncle Ben bows his head and blesses the food, the Luzianne coffee woman passes the plates, and Rastus, the Cream of Wheat man, tells tall tales over a taste of whiskey to the Banania Man. It’s the warmth of the kitchen tempered by the formality of the dining room and the love of family that extends over generations and across bloodlines. With the im-provisational genius that gave the world jazz and salsa, as well as rumba, rap, and reggae, we have cooked our way into the hearts, minds, and stomachs of a country.

RECIPES

Sauce Gombo

This simple vegetarian version of a classic West African sauce comes from Benin, a nation that sent many to the United States in the hold of slave ships. In Benin, it might be eaten over pounded yam or another traditional starch. Here, it can be served over rice.

Serves 4

1 cup water

1 pound fresh okra

2 medium ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and coarsely chopped

1 habanero chili, pricked with a fork Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Wash and top and tail the okra, then cut it into rounds, discarding any blemished or hard pods. Place the okra, tomatoes, chili, and the water in a heavy saucepan and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to medium and simmer, covered, for about 10 minutes, or until the okra is fork-tender. Remove the chili when the dish is hot enough for your taste. Season with salt and pepper and serve hot over rice.

—The Africa Cookbook: Tastes of a Continent

Yassa au Poulet

This is the first dish that I tasted on the African continent, and it launched me on my culinary journey of connections.

Serves 8

⅓ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

4 large onions, sliced

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

5 tablespoons peanut oil

1 habanero chili, pricked with a fork

1 2½-to 4½-pound frying chicken, cut into serving parts

½ cup water

The night before, prepare a marinade by mixing the lemon juice, onions, salt and pepper, 4 tablespoons of the peanut oil, and the chili in a deep bowl. When the marinade has reached the desired heat, remove the chili. Place the chicken pieces in the marinade, cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and refrigerate it overnight.

When ready to cook, preheat the broiler. Remove the chicken pieces from the marinade, reserving the marinade. Place the pieces on the broiler rack and grill them briefly, until they are just lightly browned on both sides.