Congo is a place that, to me, is home, but is also a distant memory. I lived there for four years when I was young. It was called Zaire at that time. I left there in 1996, and have never been able to return.
My Pappa, even though he is an American, was born and raised in Congo. He knows a lot more about the local cuisine from the area where we lived when I was a child, and will often still make some of the dishes that he grew up with.
I am excited to bring him along on this journey to document some of those tastes, textures, and flavors.
Check back here in a couple of months. He’s coming for a visit and we’re going to have a grand old time cooking the days away.