Spice, Smoke and Story is a food column by Funke Babs-Kufeji, telling her love story for cooking and food in Nigeria, while exploring everything from restaurant reviews and recipes to fine dining, hosting, and the culture that shapes how we eat.
The Taste of Home: Why Every Dish Has a Story
Food is rarely just food. It is memory, place, and people. Long before a dish reaches the table, it has already travelled through hands, kitchens, and generations. A pot of soup carries the quiet work of the person who washes the vegetables, the one who grinds the pepper, and the cook who stands patiently by the fire, waiting for the flavours to come together.
In a city like Lagos, food tells stories everywhere you turn. The smell of roasted corn on a street corner, the sharp heat of pepper in a pot of stew, the smoke rising from a suya grill late in the evening. These small moments form part of the rhythm of daily life. They remind us that cooking is not only about feeding the body, but also about belonging.
For me, this connection to food begins early. I grow up in a household where cooking is more than a daily task. My mother owns one of the first breakfast restaurants in Lagos. She is also a baker and a caterer, and the kitchen is always alive with activity. Mornings often begin before the sun is fully up, with the smell of bread and pastries in the oven, eggs cooking on the stove, and the quiet preparation that comes with feeding people at the start of their day.
Food is a big deal in our home. It is serious work, but it is also an expression of care. I watch my mother prepare meals not only for customers, but for celebrations, gatherings, and family tables. There is always something being mixed, baked, fried, or stirred. The kitchen feels like the centre of everything.
Growing up in that environment teaches you things without anyone needing to explain them. You begin to understand that cooking requires patience. You learn to recognise the sound of onions softening in hot oil, or the smell that tells you a cake is almost ready to come out of the oven. These small lessons stay with you long after you leave that kitchen.
Today, as a journalist, budding caterer and baker, I often think about those early mornings, busy kitchens, and the events I helped my mum cater. Food appears at weddings, birthdays, naming ceremonies, and quiet family celebrations. People may not remember every detail of an event, but they remember what they eat. A well-cooked dish becomes part of the memory of the day.
Even the ingredients themselves hold memory. Pepper, vegetable oil, onions, garlic, ginger. These are simple things, yet they form the base of countless meals across homes and communities. Markets play their own role in this story. In places such as Mile 12 Market, Oke Arin Market, Makoko fish Market and more, traders begin their day before sunrise. Baskets of tomatoes, piles of peppers, fresh vegetables, meat, fish and more move through many hands before they reach the kitchen.
This is what Spice, Smoke and Story sets out to capture. It will follow the journey of food from market stalls to home kitchens, from street corners to restaurant tables. It is about the ingredients that shape our cooking, the people who keep traditions alive, and the quiet stories behind every plate. Some months, the focus is on the dishes that define celebrations. Other times, it is a closer look at a single ingredient, or the craft behind baking and catering. There will be visits to restaurants and markets, conversations with street vendors, and reflections on the meals that stay with us long after they are eaten.
For me, the story of food began in my mother’s kitchen, surrounded by the warmth of ovens, the smell of breakfast cooking, and the understanding that feeding people is one of the most powerful ways to care for them. Every meal is a small piece of history served on a plate. Every dish has a story waiting to be told and I will tell it.
