My room mate has been spoiling me with food from Angola lately. She’s a wonderful cook and a very kind soul. She’s very nurturing. And being the foodie I am it’s great to taste a type of food that I haven’t had before.
The white stuff is called fushu in Angola and in Zimbabwe we call it sadza.
It’s like having a mother at home. Which I can say are blessings.
Angolan food is spicy and I like it like that. They put a small portion of the fushu which is strange to me because I’m used to larger portions of sadza. It makes me think about how we often share our stories through food and the food we eat send out a bit of our history and even personality.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
-Lord Byron
View all posts by tanatswa
Wots On Your Mind 