A Culinary Tribute to Attiéké: Celebrating Ivory Coast's National Dish

This article delves into the rich culinary heritage of attiéké, exploring its historical roots, distinct flavor profile, and the communal joy it brings to both locals and expatriates.

Ivory Coast's cherished national dish, attiéké, has recently been honored with UNESCO cultural heritage status, making waves alongside renowned global dishes such as Japanese sake, Thai prawn soup, and Caribbean cassava bread. But what truly accounts for attiéké's widespread adoration? BBC Africa correspondent Mayeni Jones, an ardent admirer who has roots in the region, shares her nostalgic connection to this culinary gem.

One of my vivid childhood memories involves the sound of street vendors proclaiming “Attiéké chaud! Attiéké chaud!” or “Hot attiéké!” as they paraded through my neighborhood with baskets brimming with this delicacy perched on their heads. Fast forward to present-day Abidjan, Ivory Coast’s bustling capital, and one can still find women selling individually wrapped portions of fermented cassava couscous—a dish that has now gained UNESCO recognition.

Attiéké serves as an ideal alternative to rice and graces nearly every dining establishment, from humble eateries to upscale restaurants and beachside cafes, reflecting its integral role in Ivorian cuisine. Its popularity has transcended national borders, becoming a staple across various West African countries, particularly in French-speaking regions, including Ghana and Sierra Leone, where unique serving styles abound.

This unique dish derives its distinctive tangy flavor from cassava tubers mixed with fermented cassava. The preparation involves grating, drying, and steaming the cassava, leading to a texture Chef Rōze Traore likens to a "fluffy yet granular couscous." Attiéké's slight tanginess enhances the flavors of accompanying spicy or savory sauces, contributing to its growing acclaim.

Fellow chef Paule-Odile Béké describes attiéké as "sour, zingy, and sweet." Gluten-free and available in assorted grain sizes, the finest versions fetch higher prices. Some vendors even offer red attiéké, infused with palm oil. The most common pairing is with grilled chicken or fish accompanied by a spicy tomato-based sauce and a salsa of chopped tomatoes and onions—a dish I personally prepared for my husband when we first met 15 years ago, a meal he loved so much that we considered starting a restaurant around it.

Attiéké is unpretentious; although traditionally reserved for festivities like weddings and birthdays, it has become an everyday favorite. Béké, who hails from a family of attiéké producers, noted that the color of attiéké differs by region, with coastal areas boasting a yellower hue due to proximity to the sea. She incorporates it prominently in her New York supper clubs, illustrating its versatility across cuisines.

Having left Ivory Coast at 14 as civil unrest loomed, I found that attiéké became a cherished link to a homeland I had to leave behind. While residing in London, Nigeria, and most recently Johannesburg, I would go to great lengths to source attiéké, sending family members back home on missions to deliver supplies whenever possible.

Chef Charlie Koffi echoes a sentiment shared by many—the idea that attiéké is more than just food, but a true symbol of togetherness. Much like injera from Ethiopia or thieboudienne from Senegal, attiéké is best when shared among family and friends, often enjoyed with hands and accompanied by a refreshing drink.

For me, attiéké evokes nostalgia for a childhood that was abruptly interrupted. On a fateful Christmas Eve in 1999, as a military coup unfolded, my sister and I found ourselves hiding in the house while our mother was stuck in the city. Shortly after, our mother made the difficult decision to send us to the UK for safety, fearing political unrest. Thus began my long absence from a place I hold dear.

Despite this, attiéké remained a beacon of my identity as I navigated life outside Ivory Coast. Throughout the years, I consistently sought out this dish, a reflective nod to the homeland I could no longer walk upon. Upon returning to Ivory Coast for a year after university, I learned about attiéké's historical pairings, traditionally served with kedjenou—a richly flavored slow-cooked stew of local chicken or game. Although attiéké has evolved in its serving suggestions, with French colonial influences leaving their mark, it has firmly established itself as a beloved staple in Ivorian cuisine.

Now that attiéké has been acknowledged as an intangible cultural heritage resource in need of urgent protection, interest from beyond the borders of its native land should ideally grow. As the world uncovers the heartwarming essence of attiéké, it invites a chance for culinary appreciation that spans continents. Additional reporting by Danai Nesta Kupemba.