This sugar is made of salt
In the last decade or so, my food life has altered considerably, and I’m always reminded of that fact every time I visit my mum’s. Last month’s visit was no different. Her vegetable sauce is devoid of the tomato taste I’m now accustomed to in efo riro. My palate waits for the fish and tomato flavour in her fried beans dish when I know there won’t be any because I didn’t cook it. White rice and red stew feature constantly any time rice is the food of choice while that combo begs for a place in my kitchen most of the time. Eggs are always a mix of cream and red (pepper & tomatoes) colours; mine are cream, white and green (green pepper) with the taste of paprika, garlic and Knorr seasoning. All of these (and other meals, habits of hers) I can stand, it’s the cubed – sugar she still uses as a sweetener that I am yet to come to terms with. After all these years. I grew up with them and still see them every time at her house. She doesn’t seem to trust its easily–dissolving sister – the granulated kind. Maybe because there is a tendency to take more than is needed or that a relative jokingly commented about it being mixed with other substances to reduce its potency and increase its quantity or it’s just her genuine love for that particular kind and the brand that makes it. St. Louis should begin to give her a percentage of its profits if that’s the case. Whatever her reasons, we’re stuck with them whenever we are in her house, and every time I use them to sweeten anything, I’m convinced that I made the right choice using the granulated kind. The first time a nephew of mine saw them, he yelled: ‘Marshmallow!’ bringing a smile to my face and his mum’s. But nothing prepared me for Chairman’s reaction when he saw them (and realized what they were) for the first time too last year. His excitement was infectious; his sister caught on too. Perhaps to humour him”more
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