By Yewande Komolafe, The New York Times
I’ve always been captivated by the bright promises of a new beginning, and that’s why, more than any other day of the year, Jan. 1 holds a special place in my heart.
In the weeks leading up, I find myself contemplative, seeking opportunities to slow down, to simplify my routines and to consider what time has brought me. The food and recipes that comfort me at this time of year are tangible ways I can revel in reflection.
The dishes I’ve been working on this month are known throughout Nigeria for their ability to soothe both those who make them and those who eat them.
The first is ọbẹ̀ onírù, or ofàdà stew, which also goes by the somewhat tongue-in-cheek name “designer stew,” as if the dish embodies something exclusive, something worth the premium (in time and currency) of preparing it.
Each time a relative makes ọbẹ̀ onírù — the name, specifically, of the fried pepper condiment that serves as the stew’s base — memories of my great-grandmother, Matilda Ọlábọdé Carew, who I knew as Ìyá Agẹ́gẹ́, guide its preparation. And just as my family has adapted over time, so, too, has our relationship to the dish. Reflecting that, the second recipe, ọbẹ̀ onírù with hard-boiled eggs, is a modern take on the original, and the one I seek out whenever I visit Lagos.
But before I get there, I must begin with Ìyá Agẹ́gẹ́ — or Ìyá Àlárò, mother of dyers, as she was know in her younger days — for her connection to árò, the deep-indigo fabric with patterns based on classic Yorùbá mythology and the teachings of Ifá.
Ìyá Agẹ́gẹ́ — I was told, I never met her in life — would often make ọbẹ̀ onírù, aka ofàdà stew, using her grinding stone to coarsely chop the fresh tataṣe a ti ṣhombo (red bell peppers and cayenne), alubosa (red onions) and ata rodo (hot chile). She would heat up the red palm oil until it smoked but retained its lively orange hue. Each ingredient, beginning with irú (fermented locust bean) and bite-size pieces of beef, was seasoned and cooked until softened, and all other ingredients were added one at a time. As the stew was simmered and fried, to coat in the sauce, a fragrant mist perfumed the house.
Like her recipe, my version of ọbẹ̀ onírù requires planning and preparation: You’ll want to make it a day ahead since — and may this firm belief be the rock I die on — oxtail is not good the same day it’s made.
At its heart, this recipe is similar to Ìyá Agẹ́gẹ́’s, a peppered sauce with bits of meat, oxtails, short ribs and beef tendon, simmered for hours and lovingly coated in red palm oil — a spice-forward stew with a rich pool of oil on the surface, meant to preserve the tender portions of meat at room temperature.
But I, of course, streamlined it, using a food processor to chop and a large pot to steam the beef pieces, though a pressure cooker would also be ideal. I also added dried shrimp, as well as the option of using miso and anchovies — familiar substitutions — though they may not quite replace the deep savory notes of irú.
The second recipe, obẹ̀ onírù with hard-boiled eggs, evolves designer stew even more, turning it into an anytime meal, with peeled hard-boiled eggs served alongside steamed plantains or any starchy vegetable you like.
When Ìyá Agẹ́gẹ́ passed on, in 1985, I was very young, the same age my second daughter, Olamide, is now. The only memory I have of her is from her wake, at the family’s house on Iyun Road in Surulere. We pushed open the wrought-iron gates of the property, the morning sun at our backs. She lay in the open casket on the broad front porch, her family celebrating the life she lived and the way of life she imparted to us.
In my past, major milestones — marriage, one daughter and then a second — traced the passage of time, signaling shifts and changes. After each, I returned to the kitchen with a deeper sense of purpose, and the same has been true in the past year, as I’ve found solace in the kitchen during a long recovery of illness.
In that time, my family’s life has changed, as well. My brother and his wife welcomed their first son. My parents built a new home in Lagos that runs completely on electricity generated by solar panels, which, now that they’re in their 80s, grants them a kind of independence. The one constant has been our food; my mother still makes Ìyá Agẹ́gẹ́’s ọbẹ̀ onírù, a process she describes as a slow, deliberate one. In my mother’s preparation, and in mine, Ìyá Agẹ́gẹ́’s soup lives on, just like my memory of her.
Food has the ability to evolve in all the ways that life does, going beyond dreams, ideas, thoughts, intent, hope and goodwill. It lets us experience liberty from trauma. I hope these recipes do that for you.
Recipe: Obe Oniru (Designer Stew)
Ọbẹ̀ onírù, a fried pepper condiment familiar to the vast Yorùbá-speaking communities across West Africa and beyond, goes by a cheeky name, “Designer stew,” a reference to the luxury products available to anyone who can afford to make it. It’s also a nod to the length of time, commitment and cost it takes to prepare. Originally developed as a sauce to coat and preserve tender portions of meat held at room temperature without refrigeration, this recipe requires planning and preparation. It’s packed with floral red palm oil, piquant tàtàsșé (bell pepper), savory crayfish (tiny dried shrimp), robust írù (fermented locust bean) and hot chile (Scotch bonnet), all rich and essential to its distinct depth. Miso and anchovies can be used here as substitutions, but they may not quite replace its deep flavors. Seek out the írù and crayfish if you can to experience the real thing, an expression of balance in a pot.
By Yewande Komolafe
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Total time: 2 1/2 hours
Ingredients
- 1 pound bone-in beef short ribs, in 3-inch pieces and trimmed of excess fat
- 1 pound oxtails, trimmed of excess fat
- 1 pound beef tendon or tripe, cut in 1-inch chunks (optional)
- 1/2 cup white or apple cider vinegar
- Kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal) and pepper
- 1 (2-inch) piece ginger, cut into 1/2-inch slices
- 1 bunch scallions, trimmed and cut into 3-inch pieces
- 4 bell peppers, any color (about 1 pound), stems off and quartered
- 1 medium yellow onion, cut into 1-inch chunks
- 10 garlic cloves, peeled
- 1/2 cup red palm oil or vegetable oil
- 2 tablespoons dried irú or dawadawa (fermented locust bean), soaked to rehydrate and drained, or red miso paste
- 1/2 cup tiny dried shrimp, soaked to rehydrate and drained, or 8 oil-packed anchovy fillets
- 2 Scotch bonnets or any spicy chile, stems off and halved, seeded if you like
- Steamed rice, spinach and fried sweet plantains, for serving
Preparation
1. Add short ribs, oxtails (and tendon, if using) to a large pot and cover with the vinegar and 3 inches of water. Wash the meat by swishing around with your hands and drain. Repeat, adding water, swishing and draining, until the water runs clear, about two more times.
2. Generously season all the meat with salt and pepper. Add enough water to cover about 1 inch above the surface. Bring to a boil over high heat, 10 to 12 minutes, and reduce heat to medium-high. Simmer until the meat starts to separate from the bone, about 1 hour. Add 1 cup water as needed to keep the meat covered. Add the ginger and scallions to the pot, and cook until the meat falls off the bone, another 45 to 60 minutes. Move the cooked meat to a bowl or plate and reserve 2 cups of the broth for the stew. Save any leftover for another use. Discard the scallion and ginger. If this step is done ahead of time, the meat and broth can be cooled, packed in covered airtight containers, and refrigerated or kept frozen for 24 hours or up to 1 month. Defrost in the refrigerator if frozen, continue with the steps below.
3. As the meat cooks, use a food processor to coarsely chop the peppers, onion and garlic, and pulse 10 times (about three seconds per pulse). Look for visible pieces of each vegetable, if you have a smooth purée you’ve gone too far and your cook times will take much longer for each step.
4. Place a large (10- to 12-inch) pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Pour the oil into the skillet, add dawadawa, shrimp and chiles. Cook, stirring frequently until fragrant, about 1 minute. (if using anchovies, add with the oil and miso. Cook, stirring frequently, until the anchovies dissolve and miso breaks up, about 1 minute.)
5. Increase heat to medium-high and pour in the pepper mixture, taste and season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and black pepper, if necessary. Simmer the sauce until slightly reduced and bright orange in color, 7 to 8 minutes. Cook, stirring frequently to combine ingredients, and keep reducing until the sauce looks slightly thickened (it should stay in place when a spatula is dragged through), about 5 minutes. Continue to stir until the sauce is jammy, caramelized and slightly darkened at the edges and bottom, 7 to 9 minutes. Taste and season with salt and pepper.
6. Reduce heat to low, stir in the meat and 1 cup stock. Stir to evenly coat the meat pieces and to combine and loosen any darkened bits from the bottom of the pot. Continue to cook until the meat is completely warmed through, 6 to 8 minutes. Taste for seasoning and adjust with additional salt and pepper if necessary. Serve the stew and meat over cooked rice, greens and fried sweet plantains. Designer stew can be stored once cooled, packed in an airtight container and refrigerated for 5 days.
Recipe: Obe Oniru (Designer Stew) With Eggs
This dish is an easy, anytime natural evolution of ọbẹ̀ onírù, known as designer stew, a cheeky reference to the luxury product available to those who can afford it. Once you’ve made the base, you can play around with additions like tinned sardines, halved baby eggplants or cubed large ones, or in this case peeled whole hard-boiled eggs. The eggs can be added or cracked shakshuka-style directly into the pan to cook until as runny or soft as you like. A steamed starch or thick-cut slices of soft agẹ́gẹ́ style bread are typical accompanying sides.
By Yewande Komolafe
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Total time: 45 to 50 minutes
Ingredients
- 3 medium bell peppers (about 1 pound), any color, trimmed, seeded and quartered
- 1 small red onion or 4 medium shallots, peeled and quartered
- 6 whole, peeled garlic cloves
- 1/4 cup vegetable oil
- 1/2 cup dried tiny shrimp, soaked to rehydrate and drained, or 8 oil-packed anchovy fillets
- 2 tablespoons dried irú or dawadawa (fermented locust bean), soaked to rehydrate and drained, or use red miso paste
- 1 Scotch bonnet or any spicy chile, stemmed and halved, seeds in or out
- Salt and pepper, to taste
- 6 to 8 hard-boiled (9- to 10-minute) eggs, peeled
- 1/4 cup fresh parsley leaves and tender stems
- Steamed rice, plantains, potatoes or crispy fried yam, for serving
Preparation
1. Use a food processor to coarsely chop the peppers, onion and garlic. Pulse 10 times (about 3 seconds per pulse). Look for visible pieces of each vegetable. If it’s too smooth, you’ve gone too far, and your cook times will be much longer.
2. Place a shallow, large (10- to 12-inch) skillet, nonstick pan or Dutch oven over medium heat. Pour the oil into the skillet, and add shrimp, irú and chile. Cook, stirring frequently until fragrant and slightly darkened, 1 to 2 minutes. (If using anchovies and miso, cook, stirring frequently, until the anchovies dissolve and the miso breaks up, about 1 minute.) Stir in 1/2 cup water and season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and black pepper.
3. Increase heat to medium-high and pour in the pepper mixture. Simmer sauce until slightly reduced and bright orange in color, 5 to 7 minutes.
4. Cook, stirring frequently to combine ingredients, and keep reducing until the sauce looks slightly thickened (it should stay in place when a spatula is dragged through), about 10 minutes. Keep stirring until the sauce is jammy, caramelized and slightly darkened at the edges and bottom, 8 to 10 minutes. Taste and season with salt and pepper.
5. Reduce heat to low, stir in 1/4 cup water to loosen up any darkened bits from the bottom of the skillet. Place the peeled eggs in the sauce and gently spoon the sauce over to coat. Heat until the eggs are warmed through, about 2 minutes. Discard the chile, if you prefer, and garnish everything with parsley.
6. Transfer each egg to a plate topped with the spicy pepper stew. Serve immediately over cooked rice, plantains, potatoes or yam. Designer stew can be stored once cooled, packed in an airtight container and refrigerated for 5 days.
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.