Tag Archives: passion

Tribute Tuesday


One of the fondest memories I have of my mom is her in the kitchen cooking. She always wanted me to be a part of it and asked that I stay in the kitchen to watch while she cooked. I hated it!

I was going to grow up and become a lawyer, never marry, and just try and win cases, why did I need to learn about cooking?

She made good foods and one of her many specialties was Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew), it is native to her state of origin, Ondo in Nigeria.

Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew),

Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew),

When she made this stew, she would put all sorts in it and say “òkèlè kan, ọmọ ìgbín kan, aye n be l’Ondo egin” loosely translated “every dip of your morsel into the stew you pick a bit of baby snails” We loved eating the stew…ask anyone who knows, it is a delight…and even when things got rough and they did from ‘94-01 and especially between ‘99-01, she still made them although adding meats became expensive. She still cooked them with ponmo (cow skin) just because she knew we loved eating it. We had a funny name for the stew then and it made her laugh out loud. Still all I wanted to do was eat it and not make it…

Back pedal further to 2001 a few days after she passed away, I had to follow one of my aunts to the market to get food items, sigh… I hated it!

We got home and I went into the kitchen to drop off the items and for whatever reason, I cooked Yam and fried eggs with chunks of Titus fish…I made that meal almost every night for that period, and after the funeral and visits were all concluded, I found myself in the kitchen making turkey stew for one of my brothers to take back to university.

Turkey stew became my specialty, and every chance I got I would cook it…I also started making coleslaw and remember making it with my sister for a friend’s 21st birthday.

I moved to the US and found myself cooking ever so often. Dodo& gizzard was now my specialty and every chance I got I would bring a tray to parties for free, then it was fried rice, now it’s all sorts…I always looked for opportunities to bring food to parties…I found that I thoroughly enjoyed cooking.

These days, I wish I had stayed in the kitchen with her…I wish I had learned to cook from her…still I try to look back on our time together and picture a few things she did here and there…my dad and siblings give input as they are able.

Today I am cooking Obe ilá alasepo, as a tribute to her as I make up my mind to pursue this joyful passion fearlessly. I will put every kind of meat I have in the stew…and I have a lot, thank God. I will sit back and dip my morsel into it…smile in memory of mommy and wish if only for one second she was here to share this meal with me.


Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew), pẹlu iyan (pounded  yam)

Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew), pẹlu iyan (pounded yam)

(To say I didn’t cry while writing this would be a lie, but that’s OK for I find my honest moments in words are when the tears flow free).

Cooking Food


    It is the simplicity therein

    The joy that comes from cooking food
    The love that goes into eating food
    Sometimes it is the other way around
    The love that goes into cooking food
    The joy that comes from eating food

    FEAR: The Doubts Of Many Nights


    False Evidence Appearing Real
    The doom of many dreams

    Day after day it plagues
    Which one will soon come true?
    The emotion that captivates the heart to still…
    Or passion that causes it to bleed(beat)



    A mountain they seemed
    Piled way up to the top
    Different types of meat
    Vegetables and fish
    5 hours after noon they all were done

    Me in the midst of my favorite room
    Surrounded by utensils and sweet smells
    Burning flames bright and blue
    Under stainless steels and Dutch pots
    Chicken wings clothed with spinach Floating free in juicy ripe red bell peppers

    4 stews, brown rice, and fish steeped in soup later
    A week in meals was done



    I sit here in this single headspace
    Entranced by your Augustness
    Transfixed in time; my pulse is rising

    My pulse is rising; rising fast with the outside temps
    Soft thighs crossed in gentle submission to this masterful enchantment

    I am hypnotized by your gentle strength and dark lust

    A Saturday Night


    Buttered toast and honey oats
    Fingers crossed with cuddled toes
    Warming fires snuggling close
    Lovely night with unburdened clothes