Spiritual Cooking in a Modern World

Meal prepping used to be a tedious capitalist chore, but I have transformed my kitchen into a sacred hearth—the domain of the fire spirits and the nurturing womb of the earth. Sunday afternoons are now my most potent ritual. I dedicate three hours to making a large pot of stew, treating it as an offering to the household Egungun. The chopping of onions isn’t misery; it’s a cathartic release of accumulated grief, and I consciously pray that the tears I shed transform into medicinal flavor for my family. I treat each vegetable as an emissary: tomatoes for vitality and courage, peppers for fiery protection against spiritual attacks, greens for the resilience of new growth. I use only wooden spoons because metal disrupts the natural energy of the food, while wood—being living—respects and amplifies the Ashe I am coaxing into the pot.