Over the past few months, I've had a rude but necessary awakening — a realization of just how little we know about the indigenous foods that grow right here in our backyard. Our palates have been succesfully colonized, not just by fast food and foreign flavors, but by the loss of our own culinary identity.
This personal reckoning sparked my mission: to decolonize the palate — one meal, one ingredient, one experience at a time. For me, food has become a powerful tool to reclaim culture, tell our stories, and redefine what "fine dining" can look and taste like. The call to action, "Atibuyel'emasisweni" — to return to our roots — couldn't be louder, and I've chosen to answer it through food.
From the Kitchen to the Culture
As a culinary innovator, I've spent time deeply exploring how African indigenous ingredients can be fused with modern cuisine, without losing their integrity. My goal? To give our ancestral foods a rightful place on contemporary tables and gourmet menus. Because let's be honest — while Asian, Italian, and Indian cuisines have found mainstream popularity (deservedly so), African indigenous food is still fighting for visibility.
And it's not just about taste — it's about presence. Where is Swati cuisine in culinary school syllabuses? Why are our children not being taught about Emasi, Tinkhobe, Imbuya or Umbhidvo wetintsanga in home economics classes? Our food traditions deserve the same academic, creative, and cultural spotlight.
A Journey Back to My Roots
Ironically, I didn't grow up steeped in traditional food culture. But my culinary journey led me back — to flavors I didn't know I'd been missing. Through researching and reimagining forgotten ingredients, I've not only learned to cook differently, but to think differently about my heritage.
This project officially took flight in February, inspired by Emaganu (Marula fruit), which birthed my now-iconic and First of its kind Marula Cheesecake — a dessert that's been tasted by over 300 Emaswati. Since then, I've explored Chuchuza (Black Jack), Umbhidvo wetintsanga (pumpkin leaves), Umhlonyane (Artemisia), Emabele (sorghum), and Imbuya (amaranth). And let me tell you — I'm only getting started.
At the heart of this movement is documentation. I am intentionally positioning myself as a custodian of indigenous food knowledge, using this blog — and my social platforms — to preserve, elevate, and celebrate what's ours.
Indigenous Innovation: Chuchuza Bread
One of my proudest creations so far is a Chuchuza-infused crown bread, paired with blue mould cheese for an elevated flavor profile. Chuchuza — also known as Black Jack — is a locally available herb with remarkable health benefits. Rich in iron and antioxidants, it can support immunity, digestion, and even help alleviate symptoms of chronic illnesses.
Dried and blended, it functions just like Italian herbs — but rooted in African soil. The bread is rustic, earthy, and elegant — a symbol of what happens when we give indigenous ingredients the respect and creativity they deserve.
Cooking Experiences That Celebrate Heritage
In one of my recent cooking experiences, guests got to use Chuchuza in a pasta dish — proving that indigenous doesn't mean outdated. It means under-discovered. From now on, you can expect at least one indigenous ingredient in every class I host. That's my small but powerful way of ensuring the mission continues.
Decolonizing the palate isn't a trend — it's a movement. And I'm honored to be at the forefront of it.
Oh, and yes — the Chuchuza Bread recipe is available here! Try it, share it, and taste the revolution.