Sex is awesome, but have you tried Bole?
Roasted fish, yam and plantain, served with a side of hot sizzling pepper sauce. And by roasted, I don’t mean made on a BBQ grill, or in your kitchen’s oven. That’s just wrong. It has to be made on a makeshift grill, with real charcoal on the side of the road, by a fat woman sweating profusely and fanning the flames, while you decide what ratio of plantain to yam you’re looking to procure. By God it’s a beauty.
Walking down the road as a teen to get my fix, my insides always churned in excitement; it was easily one of the best parts of my day back then. I could smell the roasted fish and sauce in the air—carried by the smoke the makeshift grill coughed up—as I approached the Bole woman.
“Good afternoon Ma,” I’d say, as I sized up the plantains on the grill.
“Good afternoon my pikin—child,” she’d respond, as she flipped them over or added a new batch.
“Your plantain, how much?”
Our interaction always had a similar cadence. Sometimes it was the same woman, other times I’d have to find a different stand. But regardless of the stand, my order remained the same: two plantains, one fish, and if change remain, throw in a few pieces of yam.
The Bole woman then carefully breaks the plantains into smaller chunks, wraps everything in old newspapers, slips it into a black plastic bag, and then pours the hot spicy pepper sauce over everything. Sweet Lord.
Food in hand, I would walk as fast I could back to my Dad’s office. Behind closed doors with the AC blasting at its highest—cooling the sweat that ran down my face—I’d spread my Bole on the floor. With washed hands and a side of cold malt, I’d dig in.
Love is patient, Love is kind, Love is Bole.
My Dad knew that.
I don’t know when it started or when it ended, but whenever I visited his office, without fail, he’d give me some money to get my fix. To this day, I can’t have Bole without the memories of his office, bubbling up to the surface.
Notes
The OG source of good Bole is PortHarcourt, Nigeria.
If you know a good Bole vendor in Toronto, please share.
Do you have any fond memories of food? Share in the comments.
Song of the day - Iya Basira by Styl-Plus
bolè was easily my favorite part of living in port harcourt. let me know if you find a spot!