Suya, jollof and plantain @ Obe’s Kitchen
387 Smithdown Rd, Wavertree, Liverpool, L15 3JJ
Something I’ve heard about spice, and choose to believe because it feels true, is that everyone’s preferred level of heat is the exact one they can handle.
Someone who usually enjoys a jalfrezi might find a phaal uncomfortably spicy but they’re unlikely to be content with bhuna. And ordering a milder dish may even temporarily make you the subject of ridicule from fellow diners (A korma? Really?!).
We wear our spice tolerance like a badge of honour. The success of Nando’s is built on this concept — a little flag, sticking proudly from your plate of chicken, chips and rainbow slaw, indicating that you’re the kind of person who can handle their food ‘Xtra Hot’.
When I last visited Obe’s Kitchen — a fantastic restaurant on Smithdown Road serving classic Nigerian cuisine — I was asked if I wanted the suya I had just ordered to be spicy. I said that I did, and should have been able to tell by the glint in Obe’s eye what was in store.
The suya — beef cooked on skewer over smoke — is perfect. The meat is tender inside with a caramalised exterior and just the right amount of chew.
But how spicy is it? Pretty spicy. The pepper and allspice in the meat marinade provided a foundational layer, while the yaji (suya powder) sprinkled liberally on top adds not only mouth-prickling chilli heat but also the rounded earthiness of roasted peanut.
Add to this the hum of fruity, slightly sweet heat from the scotch bonnet in the delicious, fluffy jollof rice and we’re bumping right up against my own preferred level of spice.
Thankfully the plantain are the perfect foil to all this pepper. Fried ripe, and in chunks rather than slices, they are crispy on the outside, creamy and soft as butter on the inside.
Seeing how well I was dealing with the heat — outwardly, at least — Obe brought over a dish of fresh chilli sauce as bright orange as the bottle of Nigerian-recipe Fanta I had chosen to accompany my meal.
The spice hit was delicious but so searingly hot it nearly vaporised my tastebuds. I was handed a bottle of water and soldiered on but, only a few mouthfuls later, had to call it a day. This was fantastic, but beyond my personal limit. I scooped the remaining third of the dish into a takeaway box, paid up and headed home.
Later that same evening, though, I confess I was eating the suya and jollof cold from fridge, slathered in the same super-hot chilli sauce. Looks like this is my new preferred spice level.
