By Abraham Ja-ro’ Vatilifa
Do you ever find yourself in the supermarket and have no clue what you want to eat? Are you standing in the hot foods section, oblivious to the fact that there’s nothing particularly special about it, and you could probably make the same dish at home? Are you standing in the snacks aisle, thinking, “Meh”?
If your answers are all “yes,” then you’ve probably lived long enough that the occasional fried potatoes and Russian sausage no longer excite you as much as they used to when you were young. It’s not fair to you to aimlessly continue living this way without questioning or expecting more or better. After all, food is a basic need, and nourishment should be fulfilling or enjoyable at the least.
Let’s say you put on your best shoes and go out to eat at a restaurant, the focus is no longer on the food, now is it? These days, it’s more of a lifestyle thing. These eateries and food spots are known more for their status rather than their food, and this is backwards, in my opinion. Social media might have a lot to do with it, or maybe not.
Nowadays, you might find yourself looking at a particular menu, and there’s a dish with the name Babalas attached to it, again another sign to show just how far the industry has shifted from what needs to be focused on, the food.
Now, it’s funny how when you go a tier down from restaurants to supermarkets and even as far as the street markets, people have more control over their preferences, and one can see a more tangible interest in the food culture.
The Problem with Our Food Scene
I’ve come to understand that food is a whole universe on its own, and we must see it as such. We need to engage and indulge in that universe in such a way that we get a good dose of both what we want and need. If one can get an occasional “woah, what is that?” after having a spoonful, then that means you’re at that magical place you’re supposed to be every time you eat.
Food is a part of us, it is embedded into our livelihoods, backgrounds, and cultural identities. The way pizza and pasta are tied to the identity of Italians is the same way I want Njove or Eze to be tied to my tribe, or rather, Pap en Vleis to Namibia, the same way Fufu is to Nigeria. This can only be achieved if we commercialise and serve these foods with excellence towards the wider threshold. If we prep our local raw foods to meet commercial standards, I’m sure we can tap into regional and international markets. There’s so much diversity to work with here because of the many cultures based and now native to the country that is Namibia.
The trick lies in being inclusive with all cultural foods and local staple foods. Although a lot of the food is raw/rough, straight from the source without the appeal of the commercial food landscape, I feel that with the right technical approach and processing, we can get these foods to a level at which they can represent us.
The heaviest burden lies on the shoulders of locals that are engaged in the food business. I‘m just a needy writer, that’s all. This is a call on all local culinary scholars, chefs, and those of us who understand the science of food to tap into their creative bag and innovate. Make the combinations that make table reservations.
Food is not rational. Food is culture, habit, craving, and identity.
Jonathan S. Foer
It’s about time we take the initiative and express our local flavour for the world to taste and recognise. Namibia can also resonate globally with all the cultural wealth of the world out there. For now, I’ll be dreaming of the day when Eze will be part of an appetiser to a three-course meal.
Glossary: Njove: Oshiwambo traditional oil, made by adding a small amount of water and salt to Eze, and the continuous pounding of the dry Marula seed mash (Eze), ultimately producing oil. Eze, pronounced "Eh-zee": Oshiwambo traditional food, extracted from a dry Marula seed, pounded and mashed together to make Eze, could be said to be a byproduct of Njove.
