Isn’t it funny how you probably can’t stand beans but you would jump on the first Moin Moin wrap you see?
Any fellow beanlievers, say ayy!
Well, provided it’s the right one.
There are few other things I believe in.
Besides God, love, family, myself and John Legend, of course. But I sure know and believe that Moin Moin is only ever two things; good or bad. No in betweens.
It’s either you love it or you don’t!
It’s either it’s lit or a mess.
A hit or a miss.
No in betweens.
I’ve had too many misses.
So, I tend to avoid it all together.
Now, I’m not a connoisseur on beans and it’s produce, products and by-products. Notwithstanding the fact that I enjoy and can make a mean Gbegiri stew, I think. But I can’t even stand Ewa Ayogin.
Hi. I live in Lagos. I can’t stand Ewa Agoyin. No, I’m not abnormal. No, I wasn’t dropped on the head as a baby. No, not even with extra ‘oyel‘.
Yes, I said it. Ewa Agoyin is just not my specs. And yes, I said specs.
Give me Akara instead!
Fresh, hot, steaming oil bean cakes, fried crisp to it’s utmost destruction.
But it’s a good type of destruction, if you know what I mean.
Growing up, there were two types of Akara. The ‘normal’ soft ones, with no crunch whatsoever and tiny. So tiny, it finished and you wonder how that happened. Then, the other one.
Little ol’ me, I couldn’t stand it. Those palm-oil bean cakes with the little peppers, red and green and absolutely not my favourite. Mum never made them, even though I bet she knew how. We bought them from our trusted customer, every Tuesday and we took them with homemade Ogi. I loved the crunch but couldn’t stand the heat. You couldn’t even beat that heat, not even if you pulled out all the mini peppers.
It was torture and perfection at the same time.
I haven’t touched that type of Akara in years. Now, it’s that torture and perfection I desperately seek.
Beans and Maize. What a maze! Lol. It’s a horrible rhyme, I know. My infamous Adalu story happened in Ss2, also known as Grade 11, Year 5, whatever. I had never made it in my life but it was my exam and I wanted to impress the ‘convalescent’ who in real life was just two scary teachers anyway! My mashed potatoes and poached egg was an absolute flop so this was my one chance.
Oh and impress, I did. With my hard corn and beans that took forever to cook. Complaints flying left and right. Tears threatening and a lot of pressure.
The teachers would watch your every move and taste your every move.
The end result was however, worth it but bye, Adalu. Till we meet again.
Beans, love it or hate it.
I should have probably titled this piece that but what I couldn’t decide was which was more cliché.
So unpredictable, could be absolutely pain-ish today, comfort food tomorrow.
Too many variations and so much diversity.
Reminds me of a place I know, Nig… Can I get help with that?
But the great thing is, like our dear country, Nigeria, there’s really something for everyone.
Written By Titilope Adedokun
Published By Great Opara