Fozia Ismail’s sweet potato rösti with tamarind bisbas
Embracing the errors of experimentation as we move towards spring. Words by Fozia Ismail. Photographs by Fozia Ismail and Georgia Rudd.
‘such then is beauty
surrendered
against all hope
you are here again
turning slowly
nature as chameleon
all life change
and changing again
awakening hearts
steady moving from
unnamed loss…’— bell hooks, Appalachian Elegy
In her collection Appalachian Elegy, bell hooks writes about going back to Kentucky, where she grew up, and communing with the land in spite of the imprints of pain suffered by colonised and enslaved people. In these poems, she urges us to reconnect with the natural environment as a way of reconnecting with ourselves. This is a common sentiment in hooks’ work: as she wrote in Sisters of the Yam, ‘Wherever black folks live we can restore our relationship to the natural world by taking time to commune with nature, to appreciate the other creatures who share this planet with humans.’
As we edge towards spring, I am reminded of her words. I am cheered up by seeing the magnolia come to life again – whenever I pass some, I take a second to appreciate the gorgeous white and pink colours, shapely against a blue sky. These moments in which we notice the gradual changes in our environment can easily be missed in the busyness of everyday life. But I believe that this act of noticing is crucial, and I think it can also be applied to cooking. So many of my favourite dishes are born out of brief moments of reflection or memory of smell or flavour.
Although this week’s experiment in yam involved many mistakes and errors, the optimism of spring kept me going. When I started, I tried to make this rösti with puna yam. I undertook the slow, somewhat-tedious process of partly boiling the yam, then leaving it in the fridge, so it was disappointing when the resulting rösti had a slightly chalky taste (perhaps because I didn’t boil the yam enough). But cooking, like life, comes with this mix of hope and frustration. As tedious as it was, that experiment led me to this one, a rösti made with purple-skinned sweet potato – which turned out to be a winner.
And as I cooked it, I was grateful for these experiments, and for the possibility of recovery from disappointment through cooking, writing, and reading, always, alongside bell hooks.
Sweet potato rösti with tamarind bisbas (salsa) and kachumber salad
This makes for a great weekend brunch, or an easy evening meal – just make sure to cook the sweet potato in advance.
Serves 2–3
Time 45 mins plus at least 2 hrs chilling