we didn't take pictures at the dinner table, or worse still, sniff at our plate before eating-- unless you wanted to chop slap.
we didn't parse a dish into it's constituent flavor profiles. 

to eat a meal was to appreciate it's wonderfulness in totality. 
food was understood without reaching for words like "mouthfeel," "terroir," "consistency" or other such palaver. 

we brought only our appetites to the table, and returned back to the world grateful, our mouths glistening from delicious oil. 

today, the food i cook is the shit i grew up eating, it's hearty, sloppy, spicy, greasy, and fucking delicious (my mother endorses the sentiment, not the language).
it's not camera-ready. there isn't an instagram filter that could save a plate of fufu.  
it's always going to look different, but that's ok because a proper meal of fufu and soup is sweet (roughly translated as, deeelicious!).

sweet is what i'm going for with LAGOS.
--and another reason i started all this: i miss my momma's cooking!

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