Every Ingredient Tells a Story
by Eileen Gbagbo
I remember one of my most recent trips to Ghana in January 2021, I walked out of Kotoka International Airport and was immediately hit with the smells of kelewele.
A man eats kenkey at a roadside chop bar. Photographer: Reuben Ekow Quansah
It’s hard to ‘define’ Ghanaian cuisine and put it neatly into a box as you might do when describing French cuisine for example. There are a few staple foods known internationally such as jollof rice, waakye and fufu but they are not joined together by an ingredient or a particular cooking technique. Like most countries in the Global South, Ghanaian cuisine is shaped by its histories of colonialism, resilience and independence. To fully understand Ghanaian identity is to explore its culinary heritage. Dishes like jollof rice and waakye tell the story of colonisation, migration, as well as exposing the impacts of globalisation. Even palm wine, or akpeteshie has a history of colonial resistance.
A man buys breakfast at the roadside in Accra. Photographer: Reuben Ekow Quansah
But if like me, you’re stubborn in the quest to learn what truly makes up Ghanaian cuisine, you might start your search at a chop bar. These are roadside joints mainly patronised by local Ghanaians looking for a healthy portion of banku, fufu, omo tuo, a myriad of soups and rice. Here, every man, woman and child knows that food from here rivals a home-cooked meal and most people can order for themselves without having to look at a menu.
Exterior of a chop bar, Accra. Photographer: Paul Strand
Chop bars are ubiquitous around Ghana’s capital city - Accra. Compared to newer restaurants popping up currently around the city, people might find the decor a little outdated. Inside a chop bar you’ll find plastic or wooden tables and chairs all simply arranged with occupancy at a table geared for groups rather than individuals. At the chop bar, you can witness Ghanaian food at its most ‘authentic’. Meals are served in unassuming mortar repurposed as bowls, arriving at the table with minimal frills. The portions are big, the food is hearty and the drinks are flowing.
A man buys fufu and soup at a local chop bar in Accra. Photographer: Reuben Ekow Quansah
To me, chop bars are Ghana’s final line of defense against the rising wave of gentrification in Accra. In a chop bar, the lines are blurred between the formalities of a restaurant and the casualness of a home setting. Ghanaian customers can choose between English, Twi or sometimes Ga to order their meals and can often customise their food at no extra cost. They are often also communal spaces that can serve as a meeting place for friends, families, students etc.
For example, with street food such as Hausa Koko (a popular spicy millet breakfast porridge) and Keneky (a fermented maize swallow), often there can be long queues for the meals at the roadside stalls throughout the day. These queues are where conversations can emerge and friendships can be formed over this shared experience of buying an affordable feast. Beyond that, these roadside stalls eliminate the quiet determination and ambition of the owners, often women, to feed a crowd of commuters and regulars alike.
And no meal (in my opinion!) can be complete without a drink of sobolo or even a glass of akpeteshie. Sobolo is a popular hibiscus drink sweetened with sugar and flavoured with ginger. Each family has their own sobolo recipe but nothing beats the chilled drink alongside a meal of spicy fufu and groundnut soup. Akpeteshie, on the other hand is a stronger palm wine drink with roots going back to 1957 after the drink was officially allowed to be distilled following independence. You can often find uncles drinking akpeteshie at chop bars after a hard day’s work or while watching sports, generally with high spirits. Both drinks are cheap and readily available at street bars and parties but can also be upscaled and served as part of cocktails and drinks at sit-down restaurants.
Interior of a local chop bar in Accra. Photographer: Reuben Ekow Quansah
Food, especially when it comes to the idea of a ‘national cuisine’ can illuminate many aspects of a society including class and gender divisions. However, a Ghanaian chop bar sees customers from every aspect of society - a businessman on his lunch break, a taxi driver, young families after church and young students before evening classes. Thus, chop bars play a fundamental role in preserving Ghana’s cultural heritage due to its welcome of the ‘everyman’.
But, with the emergence of globalization and various waves of emigration by Ghanaians to Europe and the Americas, you can find ‘Ghanaian food’ in global cities such as New York and London. Historically, Ghanaian restaurants in the diaspora consisted of rundown shops in areas with a large West African diasporan population. Similar to chop bars in Ghana, their menus are simple and consist of local favourites like banku, fufu, various soups, jollof rice and banku. They are served usually to takeaway with very few seating options available. That’s where they differ from chop bars, thus the feeling of community and unity is not nurtured in these spaces.
A woman pours soup into a bowl of fufu. Photographer: Reuben Ekow Quansah
Recently however, Ghanaian chefs such as Eric Adjepong in the US and Akwasi Brenya-Mensa based in the UK have been raising the profile of Ghanaian cuisine and bringing the flavours, stories and culture abroad to the Ghanaian diaspora and Western consumers. In their work, they pay homage to the culinary backgrounds, often reminiscing about the way their mothers, aunties and grandparents would cook particular foods, while also innovating and playing around with the presentation, textures and flavour combinations of such foods. They both offer both a personal and political understanding of Ghana’s past, adding to the nuance of what constitutes Ghanaian identity and is in keeping with the Sankofa mantra (this is the Akan principle that people should honor their past in order to progress in their future). Through menus that Adjepong and Brenya-Mensa put together at their respective restaurants, diners learn about the myriad of ethnic groups in Ghana, the impact of colonialism on society and the subsequent modernisation of the economy.
Adjepong recently opened his first brick and mortar restaurant, Elmina in Washington DC and also published a cookbook, ‘Ghana to the World: Recipes and Stories That Look Forward While Honoring the Past’. The restaurant was a childhood dream of Adjepong that honours the complicated history of Ghana while serving up a modern reimagination of classic Ghanaian food.
The menu at Elmina has staples such as Fufu, Kelewele as well as more unique twists such as a Jollof Duck - duck leg in a tamarind glaze, duck breast and duck egg served on a bed of crispy jollof rice. The restaurant offers a culinary “choose-your-own-adventure" for diners. There is an option to take part in a five-course tasting menu with a shared entree option. Whereas the a la carte option references elements of the Ghanaian chop bar and is a more casual eating experience with dishes such as Chofi, Kelewele and peanuts served in a mortar bowl.
Since the opening of Elmina in February of this year, the reception to the restaurant has been good. In an interview with the Washington Post, Adjepong says West African cuisine is “here to stay”, with the paper responding “Amen to that, and pass the fufu.”
Omo Tuo & Shito at Tatale. Photographer: Eileen Gbagbo
In London, the first time I ate at Brenya-Mensa’s restaurant, Tatale at the Africa Centre, I was immediately obsessed with the details that reminded me of growing up in Ghana and eating in chop bars like the fanta in a glass bottle and the relaxed atmosphere even in central London. That was intentional on his part to “protect and preserve” this staple of Ghana’s culinary heritage as well as reinterpret “tomorrow’s African dining,” he told me in an earlier interview.
In various iterations of Tatale that he has taken around the world - from New York to Berlin to Dubai, one thing remained constant is the reimagining of classic staples. One thing that comes to mind is his Omo Tuo - beautifully plated on a bed of groundnut soup as well as his Chichinga spiced chicken wings. Brenya-Mensa’s concept has even endured beyond the plate as a temporary installation during 1-54 London’s exhibition in 2022.
‘Communion’ by Giles Tettey Nartey at the V&A South Kensington. Photographer: Eileen Gbagbo
The increasing synergies between art and food especially as it relates to West African and Ghanaian cuisine is also aiding this movement of reimagining Ghanaian cuisine for an increasingly globalized world. In both Brenya-Mensa’s installation and Giles Tettey Nartey’s Communion, the focus is on the communal aspects of preparing and eating food. It is an important reminder that while the food is undergoing a moment of radical reimagination, the fundamental aspects of the cuisine, namely the use of native spices, cassava and plantain, will always serve as the foundation to all chefs, both domestically and professionally.
This mission statement is also echoed by the Ghana Food Movement. It is a grassroots organisation in Ghana connecting chefs, entrepreneurs and food experts all with the common aim of building a sustainable food ecosystem in Ghana while preserving the country’s culinary traditions and seeking to innovate the cuisine. Speaking to me recently, Lydia Kekeli Amenyaglo, Creative Director of the Ghana Food Movement says at the heart of this movement is “collaboration and not gatekeeping.”
The organisation offers curated food experiences where participants are served a traditional version of a Ghanaian dish alongside a modern version. Their “buy Ghana, build Ghana” mantra also educates participants on the ingredients in for example jollof rice and how chefs could use ingredients that are found locally in the country in order to support the economy. This focus on sustainability also enables chefs and consumers alike to pursue more innovative ways of cooking with typical Ghanaian flavours and ingredients, as Amenyaglo highlights.
These chefs and organisations play a crucial role in reimagining Ghanaian cuisine and identity as they form part of a cultural renaissance from countries in the Global South. For example, in a recent trip to Ghana, London Mayor Sadiq Khan met with content creator Chef Abena Amoakoa Sintim-Aboagye, more popularly known as Chef Abbys and the Ghana Food Movement in a bid to promote the country’s culinary heritage internationally. Chef Abbys was recently named as one of TIME 100’s Most Influential Creators. Innovations in Ghanaian cuisine going beyond the country’s borders is helping to reshape what being Ghanaian means, but this time on our own terms. These chefs are showing up unapologetically in spaces that were historically exclusionary and telling stories of our past and audaciously curating Ghana’s future. In Accra, chop bars and restaurants sit side by side in the city as a reminder that food, especially in Ghana is for everyone to enjoy regardless of class or background. These culinary moments are a physical manifestation of Sankofa.
For a British-Ghanaian woman like me living outside of Ghana, I hold on to the idea of Ghanaian cuisine as a way of preserving my memories of my country. Food in particular is an important connection across diasporas to an ever evolving sense of national identity. Within the ever shifting answer to ‘What is Ghana’, the thing that remains constant when describing Ghana’s cultural identity from the prism of its culinary heritage is the agency and audacity by young people to stand on top the foundations of our customs and traditions in order to create exciting and boundary pushing food that reawakens the soul and spirit of what it means to be Ghanaian.
A bowl of beans and gari. Photographer: Reuben Ekow Quansah
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About Eileen Gbagbo
Dreamweaver, Cinema lover, Powered by Supermalt.
Daughter of Ghana, cruising through London.
Reimagining Ghana means weaving the soul of the nation into contemporary culture.
From Eileen:
I am a Ghanaian journalist based in London. I have written for publications such as Bloomberg, The Republic and Euronews. I am interested in food, fashion, culture and how they intersect with money and power. In my spare time, I write poetry and work as a film producer.
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/eileengbagbo/