There is always this heavenly and aromatic smell that still stops me mid thought. Beans cooking slowly with fresh red palm oil, blended onions, grounded pepper, salt, a little tiny spoonful of sugar all somewhere beside it, very soft yellow fried plantain to accompline it. This combination has never disappointed me before, not once.
My mum always made beans the long and lovely way while growing up then. No gas, just kerosine stove while the pot is sitting on it for hours, the fire from the stove making the beans to cook with the steam coming out while the whole house is filled with something like patience and anticipation.
She always fries the dodo last for us not to be eating it one by one, always soft and crispy, the kind that goes perfectly with anything and makes you ask for more. I don't know when I decided to always do mine too like that because that version of cooking my beans is what I still maintain till now, and nothing else has matched it.
What I find hard to explain is out of all the foods I have ate, this particular meal carries more weight because I never get tired of eating it if it's cooked the right way and even though it takes longer period of time to prepare it. But I think when there were no performance, beans is a food we always run to. No occasion to mark, no one to impress and it is always a good we ate every Sunday back then and we always enjoy it to the fullest. It meant things were normal. Things were fine.
And now that I am a adult, cooking for myself sometimes. I always make the bean like my mum and I make sure it's thick not watery.. I still enjoy it with soft yellow dodo and maybe white bread. I just eat some meals as food. But you see beans, I always eat it like a feeling I have learned right from when I was still small.
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