My Love Letter To Amala

Dear Amala,

I miss you. I miss you a lot. I hope that you are well? I am writing you this letter from a place a pain, to report to you the atrocities that are being committed in your name in this Toronto!

Yesterday my friend and I drove around for hours looking for a glimpse of you. We weren’t too foolish to believe that we would find the Eko version of you but we were hopeful, oh! We were hopeful. So we drove and we drove and foolishly trusting online reviews, we arrived at our destination.

The vibes seemed right at first oh, the lady was mean, the table cloths and general aesthetic of the place screamed old Lagos and a yoruba movie was playing so we thought eh okay this just might work. We placed our orders very clearly: Amala with ewedu and goat meat, emphasis on goat meat. The mean lady informed us that goat meat costs more but we were living large and ordered it anyway with a bottle of malt to cool our temperature.

Dear Amala, lo and behold our food arrived. It was an insult to your gorgeousness! First aggression: this woman gave us assorted meat! We ordered goat meat ffs! I don’t like shaki so I was already sad but we didn’t want to send it back so we persevered. Second transgression: the amala was tepid. It was not piping hot, and it was stiff like eba! Oh my chest..*insert copious tears*. To top it all off, the stew.. the stew wasn’t the light, hot and spicy stew that sits majestically and carries the ewedu, gbegiri and amala down your throat like an old friend, no.. no this was regular tin tomato stew with curry and thyme.

My friend and I were sad but we managed to eat what we could. Dear Eko Amala, who can replace you? It has been years but I still remember you vividly. Especially that little gem, opposite 40 Marina, where you reign supreme. I can never forget that day my mum and I feasted there, oh the symphony of African magic Yoruba, with the noisy standing fan, with the buttery smooth, piping hot Amala and goat meat that was cooked to perfection..sigh.. one day we will be together again, one day.

4 Replies to “My Love Letter To Amala”

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