*It’s been a while since I last posted. Nothing has really struck me as worth writing about recently. I think it’s because my life here has become so normal that things don’t surprise me as much anymore and I’ve gotten into somewhat of a routine. Well, here’s a little write-up of a Togolese dish I made today with my counterpart Rachel. This week, the new Volunteers swear in and Peace Corps celebrates 50 years in Togo. They’re renting out a large concert hall and it’s set to be a huge event. They’ve even invited Faure Gnassingbé, Togo’s president! (Doubtful he will come though.) I’ll be showcasing Rachel’s work with the other artisans PCVs work with in country, along with promoting the Women’s Conference (WWEC). Then, this weekend I leave the African continent for the first time in over 15 months and travel to the amazingness that is America, the land of bacon, ice cream and blocks of cheese.
Over the past year I’ve grown to love Togolese food. Long gone are the constant cravings for Oreos and my mom’s tuta. I now find myself craving white, pounded yam mush with fish sauce and beans cooked in palm oil. Don’t get me wrong, I am mentally prepared to gain 10-15 pounds from overindulgence on my next vacation, but cravings tend to be for foods that you eat regularly.
One of my favorite Togolese dishes is called kalma. It’s a Moba word and there’s no French translation that I know of. I’ve only ever seen it in the Savannes region and other Volunteers down south have never heard of it. The best I can describe it as is like a bean tamale. Essentially, it is crushed beans made into watery dough and cooked in bags or leaves eaten with tomato sauce or simply oil and hot peppers.
The Kalma:
We started by pounding the fresh beans in a mortar to break them from their shell.
Next, using water, we separated the shell casing from the beans.
Now we were ready to take the beans to the mill. The mill was a metal, gas-powered engine that was housed at Rachel’s neighbor’s house. Togolese use the mill to grind corn, soybeans, etc. and in Dapaong, you can find one every few blocks.
After adding some water, it was time to add the potash, a mined salt containing potassium.
Next we poured the batter in little plastic baggies. I have made this once before au village and we cooked the batter in leaves, but plastic bags are so much neater.
The bags were then added to a giant pot of boiling water. Fun Togolese fact: Togolese don’t use potholder when cooking. They just pick up steaming hot caldrons with their hands without even flinching. I have still yet to acquire “pâte fingers” (where you can eat the still steaming corn mush with your fingers. I either have to wait for it to cool or have someone pull apart tiny pieces for me like a mother would cut meat for her child) so I have no hopes of attaining this level of awesomeness.
The batter cooked for about an hour and when we took them out it looked like this.
The Sauce:
We prepared a tomato fish sauce to dip the pieces of kalma in. Rachel cut up the onions after Sam failed due to a lack of table to cut on. (Another amazing Togolese feat: they cut food while holding it in their hands. Luckily, the knives tend to be pretty dull.)
Next, we crushed the peppers, tomatoes (no seeds), green spices and garlic.
The tomato substance was then poured into a pot with a cup of oil already in it (we later added more oil), salted to taste.
Rachel then peeled the fish and added it to the sauce.
Lastly came the whole peppers. Before coming to Togo, I couldn’t eat anything spicy. Now, I sometimes have to ask for more in my food otherwise it doesn’t taste the same. I’m quite proud of myself for this.
And that’s your Togolese cooking lesson for the day!
