As Whit’s brother, Max, is here – writing a book about life and culture and our business experiences within that culture – and he loves to cook, I thought it was time we learned how it’s done. Our neighbors in the courtyard below pound fufu a couple times a week, so when I heard the rhythmic thumping one day I went down to check it out. They were amused that I was interested, but I made an appointment with the 13-year old girl, Savannah – one of my regular visitors, to teach us how to make fufu and groundnut soup last Sunday after church. She was very excited and enlisted Precious’ sister, Pamela, also 13, to help.
When the day finally came, we made a shopping list and went to the market with Savannah. We bought, 2 kilos of chicken (frozen thighs and legs, chopped into 2” chunks) at the “cold store”, tomato paste, groundnut paste (peanut butter), flavor cubes (like bouillon), cassava, and plantain. We already had red pepper (think cayenne), salt, and onions. All together, we spent about 18 cedis (about $12) for enough food to feed Max and me, Savannah’s family (two adults and 5 children), and Pamela’s family (two adults and 2 children), plus a couple other children who crashed our party when the food was ready.
First, we peeled and cut the cassava and plantain into chunks for boiling. They usually use a machete on the cassava, but I was so clever I pulled out my potato peeler, thinking I’d show them how it’s done when one has the proper utensils. We each grabbed a cassava and commenced peeling. As I finished my first one, with a small pile of thin peelings in front of me, I looked over at Savannah. She had “shelled” three or four cassava with our large kitchen knife. She whacked it lengthwise and then peeled off what is actually more like bark than skin. It also takes off a layer of meat, but is far faster than my "clever" potato peeler. I got another knife and did it the 
proper way, after that. I did find it interesting, thought that in a culture where every scrap is used, cassava apparently are so plentiful and cheap that losing a layer of meat with the bark was the accepted method (also, probably the best way given the available tools and the difference in speed).We boiled all that until it was soft (like you would boil potatoes for mashing). Then came the pounding. Savannah’s aunt, Joyce, (although she calls her mother because Savannah lives with her and is raised by her, she is really Savannah’s mother’s sister) helped with this part. She is the one who reaches into the mortar and places or re-arranges the cassava and plantain in between the pounding – and she is very particular about her fufu. In all fairness, Savannah, Pamela, and Pamela’s mother, Mary (who has reappeared from “traveling” to, once again, live with and help raise her children) did most of the pounding, but they did let Max and I give it a try after we had asked enough times. All were much entertained by Max pounding fufu, because it is something rarely, if ever done by men. He was giggled at, pointed at, and cheered, in turn.
When pounding fufu, it is the responsibility of the pounder to keep a steady rhythm and the responsibility of the “placer” to reach in between the beats to place the cassava or plantain or to rearrange the dough for the next pound. Joyce was understandably cautious when Max and I were pounding. Every time she would reach in, Max would stop pounding. Instinct just wouldn’t let him start the down stroke when her hand was there. Nevertheless, he was encouraged and he pounded for some time. I, on the other hand, was much criticized by Joyce (in Twi, so it didn’t bother me) for not doing it properly. I was doing it too soft or too hard. Apparently, my gender should make me a natural at this god-given task. I’m not entirely sure how one would screw up this particular process however – you just keep pounding until it is a big ball of sticky, bread dough-like glue. Not that I’m bitter.Meanwhile, before the cassava and plantain had finished boiling, the girls started the soup. The chicken pieces, tomato paste (15 oz. can size, if you're trying this at home), onion (one large), red pepper, the bouillon cube, and salt were placed into a large pot with some water and set to boil. They added so much red pepper that even Max blanched. They said it was necessary, however, because if they didn’t use a lot you wouldn’t even taste it after the groundnut paste was added. Once the pot heated enough so the tomato paste and bouillon cube melted and could be stirred in with the water, more water was added and the pot left to boil.
When we finished pounding the fufu, the girls came back upstairs to add the groundnut paste (about 6 cups, I think!) to the soup. As groundnut paste is sold in plastic baggies (like a sandwich baggie filled and tied at the top), they first squeezed the peanut butter out of the bags into a bowl. Then they added water and squished the peanut butter into the water with their hands, squeezing it through their fingers, like mixing
hamburger and other ingredients for meatloaf. Once it was thinned out with plenty of water, they poured it into the soup pot through a sieve. The chunks of peanut butter left in the sieve were then further mooshed through the strainer with wet fingers to thin them out. Finally, with all the ingredients in the pot, the soup was set to simmer until it was time to eat.
Fufu and soup are generally eaten family style, although they can also be served individually, at home or in restaurants. When served family style, the fufu is in a big bowl or several smaller bowls and the soup may be split into several bowls so everyone can easily reach one. The process is to dip the fingers (right hand only) into the soup (to oil them up and prevent the fufu from sticking) and then to pull off a small piece of fufu and roll it into a ball, about the size of a large-sized marble. The ball of fufu is then dipped into the soup, placed in the mouth, and swallowed whole. I made the mistake of trying a bit of fufu without the soup and it took 10 minutes to get it off my teeth. It is literally like glue.
The soup is delicious. The fufu, I can really do without, but I think because cassava and plantain are so readily available, it has become a staple since it fills the stomach and must take some time to digest. Neither Max nor I could eat half what they gave us, but the children vacuumed every last scrap of fufu before we were finished. It was a feast.
XO
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