Literary food or edible literature?

Jollof rice - not mine. I ate it before thinking to take a pic.

I just cooked (and ate) jollof rice. It was delicious and I have added the recipe to my culinary repertoire. Jollof rice is a traditional Nigerian dish made with basmati rice, tomato, chili and a range of spices and it is mentioned repeatedly in Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche's latest novel, Dream Count

This is not the first time I've read a book that mentions a certain dish and I've looked up the recipe and cooked it. I'm culinarily* curious, I enjoy good food and I also read widely, so it's inevitable that dishes I've never heard of, or never tasted, will be mentioned every now and then and I'll think, hmm, must try that. 

Why do I do this? Yes, culinary curiosity has a lot to do with it - I like trying new things - but it's also got a lot to do with the role of food in connecting people and cultures. Indian writers, in particular, use food in their work to symbolise social structure and cultural identity, and as a metaphor for themes such as environmental and political decay, repressed desire, memory and preservation.: Kiran Desai, Arundhati Roy, Amitav Ghosh and Jhumpa Lahiri (the latter born in England of Indian heritage).  

In Dream Count Adiche uses traditional Nigerian food to bridge the cultural gap between her characters' African identities and American lives. Jollof rice is a comfort food for her Nigerian characters who are navigating life in American cities during the Covid pandemic.

In some ways, I think trying the foods mentioned in books that I read - particularly books by authors from cultures other than my own - helps me to connect to what the author is saying. It's also a lot of fun. Thanks to Mr Ottolengi I have a pantry stocked with a lot of spices and staples, so I can usually run down a list of ingredients going, yep, yep, yep and seldom need to actually buy anything new.

Food connects us. It is central to all cultures. We are more than what we eat - what we eat is the foundation of our cultural identity. It links us to our past - nourishing us from the ground up.

Joanne Harris' Five Quarters of the Orange delves into the dark days of the German occupation of France during the Second World War, as confronted by the main character upon returning to her native village and unlocking the past through her mother's recipe book. (I have yet to try apple clafoutis, by the way). 

Other than jollof rice, here's some dishes I've tried after having read about them in novels:  

  • Sri Lankan breakfast omelette: Chai Time at Cinnamon Gardens by Shankari Chandran

  • Pasta e Fagioli: My Brilliant Friend (and sequels) by Elena Ferrante

  • Dandan noodles: River of Smoke by Amitav Ghosh 

  • Rumbledethumps: various references in the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling 

  • Appam: The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy (fiddly and takes time but absolutely worth it!) 

  • Bannock: I don't remember which book I encountered this in, but being of Scottish heritage I'm sure it's something I'd have found in my grandmother's recipe book.

 Am I the only person who experiments with food from novels? Probably not. Maybe we should start a club or something.

I'm just about to start a book by Kiyoshi Shigematsu, so stay tuned for some adventures in Japanese cuisine! 

*No, it's not a real word - but I like it so much I'll probably use it again. You can borrow it if you like.

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