A Resident's wife in Nigeria

by Constance Belcher Larymore

So you let him depart, to work his wicked will, stalking off under a patriotic sun umbrella, striped in sections of red, white and blue cotton, followed by the satellite, bearing the market basket, while you, the anxious housewife, must simply put your trust in Providence and hope for the best.

‘Amelia,’ a young Giraffe brought home by the late Captain Phillips, D.S.O. ([p. 210])

‘Chuku,’ a native Dog—rescued during the Aro-Chuku Expedition. ([p. 223])

The average cook has little or no discrimination, if the menu is left entirely to him: we once found ourselves guests at a bachelor dinner-party, where the feast commenced with chicken soup, followed by stewed chicken, which was, in its turn, succeeded by minced chicken; finally, to our despair, the board was graced by a couple of roast chickens—and this with an unlimited supply of mutton and beef in the market.

You must be prepared to get very indifferent meat; the animals are badly slaughtered, and cut up without any regard to joints, etc., so that beef is really useless, except for making soup or mince, so tough is it. The mutton usually grows on a goat, and is also tough, which, I suppose, accounts in part for the eternal chicken taking so prominent a place in the day’s menu. Tough meat, by the way, can be much improved by wrapping the joint in paw-paw leaves for an hour or two; if left too long it will decay altogether, so personal supervision is necessary—the cook does not profess to understand such faddy nonsense! Turkeys can be reared in the compound quite easily, also ducks; both are excellent, and there is always a pleasant possibility of occasional additions to the larder, in the shape of guinea fowl, bush fowl, pigeons, and venison, which, when hung for twenty-four to forty-eight hours (according to the temperature), is absolutely delicious. The menu can always be kept from monotony by small dishes, such as sheep and ox tongues, brain cutlets, stuffed paw-paws—an excellent substitute for vegetable marrow—tomatoes, ‘farcies,’ or garden eggs, treated in the same way.

Personally, I do not care for native dishes, and ‘palm-oil chop’ is, to my mind, an abomination; but ground-nut soup is very good indeed, and should not be overlooked, especially as it is a delicacy that every cook understands how to make. Fish can nearly always be had, so that once one has taught the cook how to make real curries—as they are made in India—a fair variety can easily be had, with little or no assistance from odious and unwholesome tinned food.

I fear the chef will not be found a great hand at puddings: his inspirations do not soar much higher than banana fritters and cornflour mould. I remember a painful incident which occurred at the commencement of my career as a West African housekeeper, when the appearance of an unexpected guest caused me to order an impromptu pudding, a sweet omelette. When, in due course, the pudding appeared, looking deliciously light and frizzling hot, a curious smell accompanied it, and the first mouthful revealed it as a savoury omelette, highly seasoned with onions and fresh chilis, filled with apricot jam! I have since heard of an enterprising cook, who artistically tinted a cornflour mould bright blue, with indigo. He can be taught to make very fair tart pastry, but, as a rule, it is safer to confine oneself to fruit salads, trifles, and other cold sweets, which one can prepare oneself. The impossibility of getting fresh milk is, naturally, a great handicap in cooking, but ‘Ideal’ milk is quite useful in preparing mayonnaise and many other sauces, and the tinned cream (Golden Butterfly brand) sold by the Niger Company is almost as good as the fresh article, as it can be whipped quite stiff if kept in cold water for a few hours before opening.

Vegetables cannot be had regularly, unless the housekeeper is also a gardener, and grows them herself. There is, however, a native spinach, which is quite as good as the English kind, and grows like a weed. Country tomatoes, garden eggs, okros, sweet potatoes, green paw-paws, and yams are all of great use in supplying the table with the necessary green food; but I feel sure that the housekeeper who reads the chapter on Gardening will instantly decide to do better than tamely submit to limiting her household to country produce of this kind.