A tale of yearning, of the taste of laughter, of hand written envelopes and smoky sunny afternoons, the quest to share the joy of togetherness in a triangle of crispy, juicy deliciousness (even as grief lingers)
Raju, the man who over 50 years ago, with my grandmother, made samosas that he'd sell out the Giraffe Snack Bar, samosas that became so beloved, 30 years after it was demolished by Big Men, we get people sliding into our DMs to ask if we are of the Giraffe Snack Bar lineage
Raju, who matched his ties with his kerchiefs & wore the same Kaunda Suit for both portions of the journey...the clothes that got him to his destination safely, could be trusted to get him home safey.
Raju, with so much love, he'd embarrass my granny with gestures of affection
Our Raju is turning 94 years old this week!
Now, I couldn't tell you the exact age, because really, who counted in those days
And I couldn't tell you the exact day....
Some years he celebrated it on the 22nd of August
Some years he celebrated it on the 24th of August
He wouldn't tell you which one he chose that year...
You'd find out the hard way
If you celebrated on the 22nd, he'd be annoyed that you got the date incorrect
If you celebrated on the 24th, he'd be annoyed that you missed the real date
But the annoyance only lasted a moment.
And then we'd celebrate
In our home that always meant family barbecues where people streamed in all day long, each bringing a little something to add to the table
Somehow, the food stretched no matter how many people visited
If it was someone else's birthday, Raju always made an envelope - you know the ones with blue and white borders.
He'd slip away in the middle of the merriment, and sit at his desk.
He'd dip his fountain pen into the bottle of blue ink, and then with the most beautiful handwriting, he'd write you a message....
It always began with a sparkling of endearments
My beloved, dearest, special, mithu Granddaughter...
Long after the note inside spent, we'd hold on to those beautifully crafted envelopes
Then he'd come back outside, and when the cake was being cut and everybody was putting pieces of cake into the birthday person's mouth, when it was his turn he'd slip you this envelope
(the only time I didn't receive an envelope was when he decided to buy me a boom box ☺️ - that's a story for another day)
Despite whatever food was on the table, we'd always celebrate with chicken tikka.
Mum would have marinated these at least a day before, for the masala to really set in and make itself comfortabl
Let me tell you, the aroma of chicken tikka grilling on the jiko is next to none.
And then the gorgeous bits of char on juicy flesh
That's the taste of birthdays for us 🙃
So to celebrate Raju's birthday, of course...of course, of course, of course we had to create a Chicken Tikka Samosa!!
Honestly....this year the birthday celebrations won't be the same. There will not be people streaming in, all hugging and feeding cake
It's been 157 days of Corona in Kenya
It's been 157 days since Raju held his great-grandson, my beloved Mithu in his arms
(at 94 years old, who knows if he ever will again)
In that 157 days, he's lost his daughter
The grief lingers....but still we search for joy where we can
This Chicken Tikka Samosa is an attempt to lovingly stuff the taste of the joy of togetherness, of when we could hug each other on sunny birthday celebrations....to hold those memories in triangular pockets of crispy deliciousness...
and to share those with you
So that's the story behind this week's special flavour
Because we need time to marinate the chicken with our special family recipe, I highly advise placing your order soon
Also it can't be a birthday without some gifting!
In honour of Raju's birthday, we're sharing gifts :)
1 box of Chicken Tikka samosas for you to gift to a beloved & 1 box for yourself
Simply follow @WauEats and QT this, sharing your fave birthday memory
Papa Kassam will select his fave on Friday midday for delivery on Sat
And then on Saturday afternoon, we will celebrate beloved Raju's birthday together :)
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I'm prepping for my tech rehearsal...so here's a song for you, this one very specifically I was listening to as I wrote the very first draft, and it definitely seeped into the piece
Early this year, a palm tree in the garden exploded in flowers...delicate fragrant creamy petaled flowers
We have been with the tree for over a decade and it had never flowered before.
It was just so beautiful.
The flowers remained for several weeks, and after they fell the the ground, they revealed a twisty knobbly network of branches that stretched up the sky.
It looked like a tree was growing out of the tree.
And at their tips were globules that looked like berries.
After a few months, the branches sort of fell off.
I wanted to write something special to celebrate my 2 year quit, but I still have a long list on my to do's and I'm exhausted after an intense day...so here's a thread from the early quit days
Yesterday's eyebrow raising news about the Kenya Meat Commission (KMC) had me wondering about how we will feel the implications of this in our lives...
& it had me remembering a story about KMC from a lifetime ago
Bungoma, bumper harvests & burning bean cobs
A story thread
Many years ago I lived in Bungoma, working for an NGO.
At one point I was assisting with research looking at kitchen gardens, and how HIV/AIDS in the area was affecting farming...who was doing the farming, what was being grown, what it was being grown for...
It's been over a decade, but this particular story I haven't been able to forget
An elderly woman was telling us about the ways in which they used to farm & cook when she was much younger
Bungoma is lush with a treasure trove of delicious and nutritious indigenous vegetables