Jollof Rice

I didn’t grow up with jollof rice.
It’s not the dish of my homeland or the one my grandmother made.
But I met it later—on a plate, in a story, in the warmth of my kitchen.
And it stayed with me. This isn’t a claim.
It’s a recognition that food can be a bridge if we carry it carefully.

The Recipe

Ingredients:

• 2 cups long grain parboiled rice
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 red bell pepper
• 1 can diced tomatoes (or 2 fresh)
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon cayenne
• 1 teaspoon thyme
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 cups broth (vegetable or chicken)
• Salt to taste
• Optional: cooked chicken, shrimp, or plant-based protein
• Garnish: sliced onion, fried plantain, hard-boiled egg

Instructions: 1. Blend tomatoes, bell pepper, and half the onion until smooth. 2. In a heavy pot, heat oil. Sauté the remaining chopped onion until golden. 3. Add tomato paste. Stir until darkened and aromatic. 4. Pour in the purée. Cook until thickened and the oil rises to the top. 5. Stir in paprika, cayenne, thyme, bay leaves. 6. Add rice. Stir to coat in the tomato base. 7. Add broth. Cover and cook on low until rice is tender and liquid absorbed (about 20–25 minutes). 8. Fluff with a fork. Garnish. Serve hot.

The Story

Long before borders were drawn and names were assigned, there existed the Wolof people.
Jollof rice has its origins in the Senegambian Empire, where the Wolof prepared a dish called thieboudienne—rice, tomatoes, and fish. Long before colonialism set foot on the land.

Then the ships came. The Empire rerouted lives, foods, spices.
And rice was planted in American fields—grown by enslaved West Africans who brought their knowledge with them in chains. And they remembered, they still seasoned. 

Each region—Senegal, Ghana, Nigeria—adapted jollof into its own expression.

The jollof wars? They’re not conflict. They are playful rivalry between aunties and chefs. They’re a celebration. A sacred rivalry born of survival. This dish has lasted.  Which means we did too.

Why It Matters Now

I may not be from West Africa. But I cook with passion. I love global foods.  And I believe in honoring dishes like this—not by claiming them, but by sharing their stories and hoping it reaches the far off places of your tastebuds. 

Today, jollof rice lives everywhere: Brooklyn. London. Atlanta. Accra. Lagos. Queens.
It appears at gatherings, festivals, kitchen tables. It enters unfamiliar homes and still finds a seat.

This is a testament to the resilience that crosses borders.
In a world that often tries to erase our past, this dish declares: You can’t erase the flavor of survival..

Why This Dish Reaches Me Now

Where I come from—Guyana—there’s always been a kinda tension between de communities.

Indo-Guyanese. Afro-Guyanese.
Different stories. Different pain.

And when election time come, dat tension rise up like steam.

Dis dish—jollof—ain’t from Guyana.
But de memory it carry?
De legacy of forced migration, resistance through food, survival across de seas?
Dat memory nah foreign to we.

Writing ‘bout jollof ain’t ‘bout claiming it.
It’s ‘bout recognizing its spirit in we own fractured home.
And believing dat maybe—just maybe—food can start something new.