Ask people who know me, and they’ll confirm that I’m always singing the praises of the humble plantain, that delicious shape-shifting starch beloved across the globe for its ability to add substance, sweetness and nutrients to any meal. And while so much of the world has found inventive ways to bring out a plantain’s best qualities, we may have Ghana to thank for the most mouthwatering iteration: the spicy, sweet, crunchy, caramelized-to-perfection masterpiece that is kelewele.
Picture the busy streets of Accra, Ghana’s capital and most populous city, where you may see, all at once, bustling eateries, roadside stalls humming with customers and vendors winding their way through traffic. In any direction, you’ll encounter plantains in a multitude of forms.
There’s koko ne nkatie or kofi brokeman (whole peeled plantains), roasted on a mesh grate over glowing embers, served with salted groundnuts. There’s ampesi (steamed plantains, jackets on or off), served alongside stews. And, of course, there will be large pots of oil, frying thin slices of unripe or green plantain crisps, cubes of kelewele and morsels of tatale, made with ripe plantains, into caramelized crispy bites, tossed with salty roast groundnuts and wrapped in twisted newspaper parcels.
Abena Anim-Somuah, 29, a James Beard Award-winning writer who uses food to build community and start meaningful conversation, described kelewele as Ghanaian cuisine’s “gateway snack.”
Born to Ghanaian parents, Anim-Somuah, 29, grew up in Guelph, Ontario, near Toronto, eating traditional foods made by her mother. Kelewele, she said, was easy to share at her international school gatherings and with classmates curious about Ghanaian cuisine. From these experiences, she developed an open connection to diasporic cuisines around the world that she still draws on today.
On Substack and Instagram, Anim-Somuah calls herself “your friend in food.” But, talking with her on a recent brisk Saturday at her grandmother’s apartment in New York City’s Bronx borough, where she now lives, she described herself as “a bad Ghanaian daughter” — by her definition, someone who never learned how to make popular Ghanaian dishes at home. (An avid home cook, she relies on local Ghanaian restaurants to satisfy her inevitable cravings.)
However, Anim-Somuah prides herself on picking the best ripe plantains for kelewele (for anyone curious enough to try it at home). Her detailed instructions — and essentially, her sensory and visual directives — are easy and enjoyable to follow. The skin should be speckled with yellow, golden brown and black, what she calls “sugar spots or caramel spots,” and withstand a gentle press of the fingertip without breaking the skin.” When cut, she said, “the flesh should be firm without disintegrating.” Simply put, it should not turn to mush before heating. (The rules change when it comes to all-black plantains, which she said are ideal for tatale — “the kelewele vibe in fritter form,” she said — where the mushy flesh is scooped out, sprinkled with spices and a bit of flour and dropped into hot oil in tablespoon-size mounds to fry.)
I found her level of detail impressive for someone who claimed to be a bad daughter. Following her instructions ensures an excellent kelewele.
My version of kelewele, roasted in the oven, is a way to capture this snack that I’ve come to love. Itap a stunner of a bake that begins by slowly roasting halved, skin-on plantains until tender. A bath of orange juice and spices and a drizzle of peanut butter loosened with soy sauce, miso and water allows for much nuance and depth. I like to finish it with crispy onions and fresh cilantro, so the result is a parade of flavors softly pacing through your mouth with bites that are sugared, tart, spiced and crisp-crunchy.
When we spoke, Anim-Somuah sat at her grandmother’s wooden dining table, set with a faded lacy fabric. She was having red red, the saucy stewed beans often served with kelewele, and mused that she had adopted a tradition shared by many cultures: the bean dish that signifies prosperity and good luck in the new year. As we wound down our conversation, she said, “probably, this is the motivation to learn these traditional dishes.”
Perhaps this could also inspire anyone to also adopt the humble plantain year-round, for any reason that it suits? I think so.
Recipe: Roasted Kelewele (Spiced Plantains) With Crispy Shallots and Herbs
Kelewele is a popular Ghanaian dish of cut ripe plantains, marinated in a blend of ginger, garlic, selim seeds and cayenne, then fried and served as a side or street food snack. Often, kelewele is tossed with a handful of salted roast groundnuts while still warm and enjoyed by itself or alongside other dishes. This version is instead made in the oven by slowly roasting halved, skin-on plantains until tender in a bath of orange juice and spices. A drizzle of soy sauce, miso and peanut butter loosened with water adds much nuance and depth. The result is a parade of flavors and textures — sweet, spicy, tart, crisp-crunchy — softly pacing through your mouth.
By Yewande Komolafe
Yield: 4 to 6 servings (about 7 cups)
Total time: 1 hour 50 minutes
Ingredients:
For the Spice Mix:
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal)
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
For the Roast Plantains:
- 4 medium-ripe plantains (about 2 pounds), tender to the touch with more black spots than yellow, both ends trimmed
- 1 cinnamon stick or 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 3 whole star anise
- 6 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
- Zest and juice of 3 to 4 navel oranges (about 1-1/4 cups of zest and juice combined)
- Zest and juice of 2 fresh limes, plus 1 lime, cut in wedges, for garnish
- 1 tablespoon honey
- 1/2 cup store-bought or homemade crispy shallots, plus more for garnish
- 1/2 cup cilantro leaves, plus more for garnish
- 1 (13.5-ounce) can black beans, drained and rinsed
For the Miso-Soy Mix:
- 5 tablespoons vegetable oil
- 1/4 cup smooth peanut butter, stirred to combine, if any oil on surface
- 1 tablespoon red or white miso
- 1 tablespoon soy sauce
- 4 garlic cloves, grated
- 1 (2-inch) piece ginger, grated
- 1 Scotch bonnet or habanero chile, halved, seeded if you like, and chopped
Preparation:
1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees and arrange a rack in the center of the oven and another about 3 inches from the broiler.
2. Prepare the spice mix: In a small bowl, combine salt, cloves, nutmeg and pepper.
3. Prepare the plantains: Cut each skin-on plantain in half lengthwise. Place cut-side up in a 9-by-13-inch baking dish, and add the cinnamon and star anise. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons oil and rub on the cut surface of the plantains. Sprinkle with the spice mix. Wrap the baking dish tightly with foil. Bake until fragrant and tender (a skewer or knife should go all the way through with some resistance), about 25 minutes.
4. As the plantains bake, prepare the miso-soy mix: In a medium bowl, combine all the mixture’s ingredients with 1/2 cup water. Whisk until it all easily pours off a spoon.
5. When plantains are tender, turn the oven temperature up to 375 degrees and remove plantains. Take off the foil and, once cool enough to handle, 10 to 15 minutes, peel the plantains and discard the skins. Using your hands, break each plantain into craggy 1- to 2-inch pieces and return to the baking dish.
6. Pour the orange juice and zest along the edges of the plantains. Drizzle the tops with about 1/2 cup of the miso-soy mixture and 2 tablespoons oil. Wrap tightly again with foil and return to the oven. Cook until plantains are completely tender and the glaze is just beginning to set, 20 to 25 minutes.
7. Set the broiler to high and remove the dish from the oven. Remove the foil and flip the plantains. Drizzle with another 2 to 4 tablespoons miso-soy glaze and the remaining 2 tablespoons oil. Broil until the miso-soy glaze is dark brown in spots and plantains are tender and crisp at the edges, 2 to 3 minutes. Rotate the pan and broil until the sauce sets into a sticky, caramelized glaze, about 3 more minutes. Remove and discard the cinnamon stick and star anise.
8. Add the lime juice, zest and honey to the remaining miso-soy mix. Whisk to combine, taste and season with salt and pepper, if necessary.
9. Move the plantains to the bowl with the remaining glaze and toss to coat. Sprinkle in the crispy shallots and cilantro, and toss to coat.
10. Serve immediately in 4 shallow bowls, alongside cooked black beans with more cilantro and shallots over everything and the lime wedges for squeezing.
This article originally appeared in .
