We’re once again in Africa, dead center of the continent, in the appropriately named Central African Republic. Yet another country that most of us know little about I’d imagine. It’s a relatively young country, in the sense that until the late 1800s it was not defined by a single border, but various parts of it belonged to other countries, like the surrounding Congo, Sudan, and Chad, or their predecessors. Its current borders were defined by France, as part of various such declarations during a vast French colonization period in Africa. As such, it’s a thrown together mix of various cultural and tribal backgrounds that were forced together by an external force. Not surprisingly, that’s not been overly successful, and since its independence in 1960 it’s been a hotbed of internal strife, culminating in a now decade-long civil war.

Coming in at around 240,000 square miles, it would nestle comfortably inside of Texas, with a population more or less equal to Houston and Dallas-Forth Worth combined. French and Sango, a creole of Ngbandi, a regional language, are the official languages. Roughly 90% of the population are Protestant, and 9% Muslim. The country is in abject poverty, with the GDP per capita being the lowest in the world, the second lowest in human development (only Niger is below it), the worst income inequality in the world, the worst place to be young, and the unhealthiest country on the planet. None of this bodes well for our venture here.

It’s cuisine is also a bit of a mystery to the internet, and research was not particularly fruitful. Pretty much everything related to the country that’s out there focuses on the constant warfare. While I was able to find short lists of various traditional dishes, most of them have no more presence on the ‘net than being part of those lists. If one were to go by what has been detailed in online recipes and videos, you’d think that Central Africans subsist on a chicken and cumin stew, meatballs bulked up by ground pumpkin seeds, and fufu, a thick cassava root “mash”, kind of like a very stodgy polenta.

For the soup, I selected Ngukassa, which is made from plantains and a green indigenous to the country called ngago, for which recommended substitutions range from spinach to chard to collard to kale. Having just done a soup at the kale end of that spectrum I decided to go to the other end and used spinach. The bread was a bit more difficult. A lot more difficult. I kind of got the impression that bread is a luxury beyond what most people can afford, and what there is of it, is French derivative.

The one regularly mentioned regional bread is called Makara, and a quest to find a recipe was in vain, though I did find one, and only one, picture of it. While much of the surrounding region has fritters of one sort or another made from grated cassava (yuca) root, this bread is repeatedly described as a fried bread made from cassava flour. I had cassava starch in the house, though it’s not the same thing – I’m not sure I can get the flour here – the closest would be toasted coarsely ground farofa, used in Brazilian cooking. So given that, I looked for a sort of general African-based cassava flour fried bread recipe and found a couple. And away we go….

This might be the simplest, and fewest ingredient, soup that I’ll end up making over the course of this project. Plantains, spinach, peanuts, dende (palm) oil. Not even salt or pepper were mentioned in the couple of recipes I found for this, though I ended up adding them after tasting it – after all, I was going to have to eat it.

Peel and slice or chop up the plantains. Wash and chop up the spinach. Take about a third of the peanuts and soak them in water, and the remainder grind into a paste.

Put the plantains, spinach, and peanut paste into a pot and just barely cover them with water. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer for half an hour.

It will look like this.

Mash it all up, not to a smooth puree, but a chunky one. I used a stick blender because it was easier, so mine might be a bit more pureed than the traditional, especially of the spinach leaves. Done. Other than “garnish”. Tasting it, it was really bland, and so I added in some salt and pepper.

Cassava starch (or, flour if you can find it), salt, baking soda, cream of tartar (or something else acidic to activate the soda, or you could use baking powder), lard, water.

I did this in the food processor, cutting the lard into the dry ingredients first and then gradually adding water until it balled up together. It forms a sticky dough.

Heat up some vegetable oil in a skillet, lightly oil your hands, and make patties about 2″ across and around ½” thick. Place them right into the hot oil as you form them.

When one side is golden brown, flip them over. Based on the picture of them I had above, I probably could have fried them longer until they were darker, but, I like golden brown. Fry until the other side is the same. Drain on a paper towel.

And, ladle up the soup into a bowl. Drizzle with a little dende oil for flavor, and “garnish” with the soaked peanuts. That’s more of a presentation thing for the photo, in tradition, I gather, both are just mixed in at this point.

Look, it was tasty, with the addition of salt and pepper. Given the ingredients in the soup, it’s pretty nutritious. I’d make it again if I was in the mood for something quick and easy. The breads… crunchy on the outside and kind of chewy on the inside, which is typical of cassava starch (think tapioca). I have the feeling that they really need to be made with cassava flour, which isn’t quite as gummy. Maybe if I find some here, I’ll try them again, just to see. Overall, I guess I can’t separate my expectations from what I got – it’s poverty cooking, and kind of tastes that way. So be it.

Next up, staying in Africa, we head to neighboring Chad.