The Flavor of Lagos, in 3 Recipes

My flight to Lagos arrives at dusk, and I slide out to an airport buzzing with activity, commerce and community. For me, it’s also a confusion of crowds after the stillness of a 13-hour flight. Once I am in the car, driving to my parents’ house, I can see shadows along the roadside, forms emerging from the headlights’ edges and plunging back into the darkness. Lagos is a city by the sea, a city with a distinct coastline, islands both natural and man-made, and a never-ending expansion toward what we call “the mainland.” Any benefits of an Atlantic Ocean breeze are swallowed up a few miles into the mainland’s humidity.

Wherever you are in Lagos, the streets are never silent and never still.

Recipe: Iwuk Edesi (One-Pot Rice With Chicken)

A quick glance and all seems calm. But when I look out those car windows into the night, people are filling up the dark like a tide rolling in and receding. They’re striding, chatting in groups, gathering by a food stand at the edge of a streetlight’s glow. They are carrying the city, still bursting with energy and life, steadily into the middle of the night.

As we come up Adeniyi Jones Road, to the small enclave of houses where my parents live, my mother points out landmarks from my childhood. None are immediately recognizable, but her voice is all the familiarity I need: I’m strangely, and impossibly, home. I breathe in the air and feel every inch of my person expand. We step out of the car and are greeted by the heat, the gorgeous glow of old incandescent bulbs in faded sconces, and the foliage filling every spare inch of our yard. Lemongrass, wild oregano and scent leaf fill the air as I walk up to the front door.

Recipe: Àkàrà (Crispy Bean Fritters)