PLENTY SOUP YET NO POUNDO

When in Lack, Substitute

My weekend in LA was quite interesting. I hung out with 'River' and we got another funny as heck kung-fu flick called 'Kung-Pow'. That's my new thing now, watching kung-fu flicks. I used to love them back in the day, but I guess I have rediscovered them again. We then went to see the Victor Essiet and the Mandators, apparently it is not Essien o. All my life I thought that was his name. I still haven't figured out how they decided to call themselves' Mandator'. What they are mandating sef only God knows. Anyways I now understand why my father said not to bring a rastafarian home. The man was truly acting like he had taken one too many puffs of 'Jamycan' import. With the way he was twicthing and flinging his dreds, I was too distracted for concern that he was going to start hemorrhaging from the nose or something. To some people the concert would have been wack o, but see me I can hang with any group so I had a good time feeling irie with the vibe and all. But I was upset at the end because I waited and even requested for the guy to play 'Rat Race'. That was my fave, do ya'll remember how it goes? 'This is a Rat Race style yeeee... dey ma fe make me shiver shiver...something something.. the poor getting poorer the rich getting richer they all want to see that the others would die, you better know now'. That was the jam. Unfortunately he didn't. That song is like his signature hit and ol'boy did not perform it. So wack. That is like Femi Kuti not performing ' Bang Bang Bang' or even Fela not performing 'Zombie' or 'Lady' or even 'Water no Get Enemy'.
Anyways after hanging with River, painting and listening to 'Ogene' music (traditional Igbo instrumentals) I went to church with another friend. We just went to show face because we faded like after 30 minutes. They were doing some revival and my babes was like 'Omo abeg make we comot.' We then landed 'Veronica's Kitchen' again. Which reminds me, if I haven't already said it before let me help you again. I am sure this is not exclusive to them but my mother and my aunties used to warn to beware of women who make a business out of cooking. They cannot pass being witches and husband snatchers. Their only aim is to either take all the money in your husbands pocket or to steal your husband altogether. Your stock is worse if your cooking is not as good as these 'mama-putters'. Shamelessly me and my girl rolled in to Vero's Kitchen and ordered a plate of Egusi and Ogbono soup, assorted, with pounded yam. We had actually called ahead because we didn't want to be punished by the aroma of the bubbling delicacy while waiting for our plates to land. Without forming, we washed our hands and dug in. By the time we'd gotten half way on the mound of fufu, we were like omo we can't finish this grub so we have to pack it. My friend was like I should take her because she was implementing structural adjustment program to her waistline. What a funny babe. I didn't even think twice, because that ogbono soup was on point.
Which brings me to today. I had the left over pounded yam and some ogbono for lunch. Come dinner time, I had plenty soup but no poundo and I had been smelling this egusi soup all the way from work. I had to think on my feet. You see, during SAP (structural adjustment) things were very tight, even for rich people. You had to find ways to provide a balanced meal with very little at your disposal. That was a time of beans substituted for the protein you get from meat. When you had to actually buy a stick of sugar cane to chew on because sugar was too expensive. When you had to let your half cup of garri soak for long in 2 cups of water so that it will 'swell up'. It was a time of Rechauffe and substitution. As a single African in America, today was one of such days when there was neither garri nor pounded yam nor convenience of 'Mr. Kingsley's African Store'. The geeza could have been more creative with a name like that(that's sarcasm). However, there was 'grits' which looks and feels and tastes like garri, and when it looks, sounds and walks like a duck, then it must be. And then there was mashed potato. To cut the long story short sha, I made some mashed potatoes, poured my egusi on the side of the plate and proceeded to masticate my grubs. And it was delicious, no difference at all except in the consistency of the poundo, or in this case the mashy. My roommates were like 'Ooooh that look good.' Little did they know. I still have one more round with the egusi and two with the ogbono.Lol. I dunno about another day of mashy-poundo, I might just try white rice. I really feel sorry for my future husband if he is Nigerian. He'll have to learn to eat salads and chinese or we might just have to reach a compromise. We'll settle on take out, from Vero's Kitchen types, afterall why pay $25 bucks on a supreme pizza when you can have some goat-head peppersoup.