Chatty Wednesday: How I Accidentally Entered My Nigerian Small Chops Era

Please explain to me why I found myself in the kitchen at 10PM on a Tuesday night, seasoning goat meat, kneading dough, and preparing puff puff batter like my life depended on it, when I am not even a pie girl like that.

Because honestly, I’m not.

I’m not a foodie.

I’m not one of those people who lives for food content.

I don’t waste my calories on anything that’s not worth it.

I am very much a “if it’s not amazing, I’m not eating it” kind of babe.

Which is exactly why this whole story is funny.

Last wesdnesday at work, my friend invited me to lunch. She had already sorted everything, proper hospitality, proper care, proper soft-life energy. I tried the food, loved it, and later posted about those jacket potatoes you guys probably saw on my page.

That lunch alone put me in my “let me start cooking at home again” era.

We chatted about my trip to Edinburgh. Everything about Christmas. And I showed her pictures of the meat pies my brother made while I was there and listen… when I tell you those pies are elite, I mean ELITE.

Not because he’s my brother.

Not because I’m biased.

But because I do not like pie like that… and I was happily eating his meat pie every single morning with coffee in Edinburgh.

Every. Single. Morning.

That’s how you know the recipe is dangerous.

So I show her the pictures and she’s like, “These look sooo good. Can you make them?”

And I said, “No, I can’t actually.”

She said, “But you were there when they were making it. How come you don’t know how to make it?”

And honestly… fair question.

So I did what any sensible Nigerian little sister would do.

I called my brother.

I told my friend, “Okay, I’ll try. I’ll bring proper Nigerian small chops to work on Wednesday. We’ll have a little picnic situation, meat pie, puff puff, goat meat, turkey, and we’ll dissect everything like food critics.”

And suddenly… here I am.

Tuesday night.

Hands deep in flour.

Peppering goat meat.

Seasoning turkey.

Preparing meat pie filling.

Making dough.

Setting up puff puff batter for the morning.

I’m ready for the morning rush, because I like my food FRESH, I mean FRESH fresh. I refused to bake the pies at night. They would be baked in the morning before work. 

Hot. Soft. Proper.

And the craziest part?

The test samples I made actually turned out GOOD.

Like… scary good.

Now I’m genuinely excited. I can’t wait for my friend to take that first bite. I’m waiting for the verdict. I’m waiting for the feedback. I’m waiting for that moment when they say, “Wait… YOU made this?!”

Because that right there?

That’s my love language.

So yes.

This is how a lunch date, an Edinburgh memory, and my brother’s legendary recipe accidentally pushed me into my Nigerian small chops era.

And honestly?

I’m not mad at it at all.

Love it!

Ayo ♥