Chef Selassie Atadika is the founder of Midunu—an experiential restaurant in Accra that highlights the region’s culinary heritage. She uses her food to advocate for sustainable agriculture and showcase the power of the African kitchen. This is her recipe:
The fire is lit. The pot simmers, whispering stories passed down through generations. This is a vision, a remembering, a way forward. The African kitchen has always known the secret: food goes beyond sustenance; it is a system, a cycle, a story. If we listen closely, it will tell us how to heal the world.
Prep Time: Generations. This recipe begins with the wisdom of those who came before us.
Cook Time: Lifetimes. The simmering is slow but transformative, and each step reveals something new.
Total Time: Ongoing. This dish evolves as we learn, grow, and adapt. There is no final version—only progress.
Difficulty: Both Simple and Complex. The steps are intuitive, but they require patience, attention, and love.
Servings: Servings: Infinite. Enough for a community, with plenty to share with future generations.
Ingredients
- 1 cup of biodiversity
- A generous handful of circular economy thinking
- 3 heaping spoonfuls of communal dining
- A bouquet of plant-forward proteins
- 2 sprigs of Indigenous knowledge
- 1 teaspoon of preservation and seasonality
- A dash of regenerative agriculture
- A pinch of wild harvesting
Nutrition
- Rich in resilience: Strengthens communities and ecosystems.
- High in connection: Builds bonds across generations, cultures, and landscapes.
- Source of hope and imagination: Encourages a reimagining of what food can be.
- Full of cultural fiber: Preserves traditions while adapting to the future.
- Contains sustainable energy: Powered by regenerative practices that nourish both land and people.
- 100% waste-free: Every part has value.
Serving suggestions
This dish is best shared in good company, served with gratitude, and paired with deep conversation. It is meant to be savored slowly, a reminder that the future of food is rooted in the past, and that every meal can be an act of healing—for our bodies, our communities, and the earth.
Directions
1. Begin with Biodiversity. This is your foundation—a symphony of life, each drought-resistant grain slipping through fingers like fine desert sand, the richness of savanna soil after the rains, the lush abundance of forest harvests, and the salty breeze of coastal waters, all carrying the promise of nourishment and survival. Let these elements flourish as they weave together wild and cultivated, forgotten and found. The African kitchen has long embraced a rich variety of ancient grains, legumes, and greens, ensuring resilience in the face of uncertainty.
2. Fold in Circular Economy Thinking. Nothing must be cast aside. The wisdom of generations reminds us that every peel, every stem, every husk has a purpose waiting to be revealed. Oil pressed from golden groundnuts, broths thickened with yam skins—leftovers become tomorrow’s feast, every piece finding its place in the cycle of nourishment.
3. Add Communal Dining. Stir slowly. Let the pot thicken with conversation, the steam rising like laughter, bowls passed from hand to hand. In the tradition of breaking the kola nut, a gesture of unity and connection, in the touch of fingers to food, we are reminded—we are never meant to eat alone.
4. Infuse with Plant-Forward Proteins. Humble, powerful, life-giving. Millet, cowpeas, moringa, and other indigenous plant proteins nourish deeply, just as they have done for centuries. Bambara groundnuts and egusi seeds swell in the pot, their richness deepened by the slow heat. Ancient grains ground into flour, transformed into soft, warm sustenance, filling the air with the scent of hearth and home. They regenerate the soil as they feed us, proving that sustainability starts from the ground up.
5. Sprinkle in Indigenous Knowledge. Let it guide your hands, your heart. Ferment, preserve, braise slowly, remembering that the past is always present in the pot. The asanka and tapoli grind spices into fragrant pastes, while the ijabe whisks okra into silky perfection. Aged flavors develop in clay pots, the steady beat of pounding sticks echoing the wisdom of those who came before us. The smoke of slow-burning wood and the richness of sun-dried abundance—each technique preserving history in every bite.
6. Gently mix in Preservation and Seasonality. Generations before us left clues—smoking, drying, fermenting—to ensure food nourishes not just today but all the tomorrows to come. Follow the rhythm of the seasons. The sweetness of fruit caught at its peak, preserved at its peak. African locust beans, waiting patiently for the seasons to shift to be fermented into the fragrant umami bomb, dawadawa. Ancient methods of storage and fermentation allowed communities to thrive even in the leanest seasons, proving that patience and planning are essential ingredients.
7. Finish with Regenerative Agriculture and a touch of Wild Harvesting. Taste the wildness, honor the land, and offer it your gratitude. The most sustainable foods are often those that grow freely—leafy greens, nuts, fruits—requiring no additional strain on the land but offering abundant nourishment in return. The traditional form of agriculture known as proka, with its quiet resilience, helps restore the land, leaving the soil richer for seasons to come. The most sustainable foods ask for little, yet offer everything.
Notes
The fire is still lit. The pot still simmers. The future is being written at the table. And in the quiet between each bite, we remember: the past is not behind us—it is carried forward in our hands, in our kitchens, in the wisdom we reclaim. Sankofa—go back and get it.