As I ate the plate of sweet potato at Owamni, my mind started to buzz. There was something familiar about the dish. I couldn’t put my finger on it. And then it hit me. It felt like home. Memories came flooding forth, and along with them emotions.
In times like now, when I am strapped for time, I treat food as pure sustenance. But it is capable of more than that. It is easy for me to forget the power that food has to connect. To other people, yes, but it can also connect us to something deeper within ourselves. A childhood memory, a personal promise, or a feeling.
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