Nous utilisons des cookies essentiels au fonctionnement du site. Nous aimerions aussi déposer des cookies de mesure d’audience et des cookies publicitaires, uniquement avec votre accord. Vous pouvez choisir séparément pour chacun. Lire notre politique relative aux cookies
Loading
Recettes
Parcourez les archives par pays, par plat et par temps de cuisson.
Placali is fermented cassava paste, cooked to a smooth elastic mass and eaten with soup. It is one of the principal swallows of Côte d'Ivoire, and it is also eaten in Togo, where it is known as agbelima koumè.
The fermentation is what separates it from the many other cassava preparations of the region. Cassava is grated, crushed and left for two days before any cooking, and the acidity that develops gives placali a distinct sourness that plain cassava fufu does not have. The texture is looser and stickier than pounded fufu, and it is deliberately kept that way: the amount of water left in before cooking decides how soft the finished placali will be, and Ivorian cooks adjust it to preference.
Cassava reached West Africa from South America through Portuguese Atlantic trade, and Côte d'Ivoire has built an unusually large part of its food on it. Attiéké, the fermented cassava couscous, gari and tapioca all come from the same root, and placali sits alongside them as the swallow form. It is eaten with palm nut soup, okra sauce or kpala, and the pairing with a rich palm based soup is the one most associated with it.
Ogi is fermented cereal porridge, sour, smooth and pale, and it is among the first things most Nigerians ever eat. It is called akamu in Igbo and pap in English, and it is made from maize, sorghum or millet steeped in water for up to three days, wet milled, sieved to remove the husks, and then fermented for several more days until it turns distinctly sour.
That sourness is the point and it is what separates ogi from any other cereal porridge. It also does real work: fermentation makes the grain more digestible and gives ogi a probiotic character, which is a large part of why it has been the standard weaning food for Nigerian infants for generations and why it is given to people who are unwell or recovering.
The same base goes in two directions. Thinned and cooked, it is the porridge eaten at breakfast with akara, moin moin, fried plantain or bread. Cooked much thicker and left to set, it becomes agidi or eko, sliced and eaten with pepper soup or stew. Across the region the names change without the thing changing much: koko in Ghana, uji in Kenya, where it is more often made from millet and sorghum. Three grains are used in Nigeria, and white corn, yellow corn and guinea corn each give a slightly different result.
Corn dough porridge is a Ghanaian breakfast, particularly in the south, made from fermented corn dough thinned with water and cooked with grains of selim until thick. It is closely related to koko and to ogi across the border in Nigeria, all built on the same fermented maize.
Fermentation is what gives it its character. Corn is soaked, ground and left to sour for several days, which produces a distinctly tangy flavour and makes the grain easier to digest. Fermented corn dough is sold ready made at Ghanaian and Nigerian markets and grocers, in blocks or bags, and making it from scratch takes days rather than minutes.
Grains of selim, also called negro pepper or hwentia, is the spice that makes this Ghanaian rather than generic. It is a long dark pod with a smoky, slightly bitter, aromatic flavour, crushed into the water before the corn goes in. The other technique that matters is straining: the dough is slaked with water and passed through a strainer before it meets the heat, which is the only reliable way to avoid lumps. It is served hot with sugar, and often with milk, roasted nuts or coconut flakes.
Lemon juice, sugar syrup and water, with raisins left in overnight to start a light fermentation and give the drink a natural fizz. No country is claimed.
The raisins are the interesting part, and the source rather buries them. Dried fruit carries wild yeasts on its skin; left in a sweet liquid at room temperature, those yeasts begin converting sugar into carbon dioxide, which is what produces the fizz. This is the same principle behind ginger beer plants and a great many traditional home-fermented drinks, and it is why the method says to leave it overnight rather than serving immediately.
Two consequences follow, and neither is in the source. Fermentation produces a small amount of alcohol alongside the carbon dioxide, usually well under one per cent for an overnight ferment, but not zero. And a fermenting drink in a sealed container builds pressure, so it should be left loosely covered rather than tightly capped.
The source's history is muddled. It dates lemonade to Paris around 1630, which refers specifically to the French *limonade* sold by the Compagnie des Limonadiers; sweetened lemon drinks are considerably older and are documented in medieval Egypt.
No quantities are given at all; those below are working proportions.
Les mentions alimentaires sont fournies par les contributeurs à titre indicatif. Elles ne sont pas vérifiées par AFN et dépendent des produits que vous achetez. En cas d’allergie grave, vérifiez vous-même chaque ingrédient. Cuisine, allergies et votre propre jugement