Lusala roots — hairy, weathered, and arthritic-looking, like an old man’s fingers — aren’t the most enticing wild edible I’ve set my eyes on.
One of my most important considerations when developing recipes in the Upper Zambezi Valley is the weather. For nine months of the year it’s hot, with October being the hottest month of all.
The wild edibles and indigenous food with which I create my bush gourmet cuisine is a bridge into a Zambia few are fortunate to witness. It’s a bridge to understanding both Zambia’s people and its terroir.
On March 8, 2017, Vanity Fair Italia published a story I wrote on my life in Zambia. Many of my followers have written to me requesting I publish the original, before it was translated into Italian.
Indigenous food and wild edibles, on the whole, are packed with goodness. It’s one of the many benefits of eating locally, and one that encourages me to keep on experimenting in the kitchen.
Hanni Aston, Chris’s late mother, was, by all accounts, a renowned cook. Elderly friends of mine, who also once knew Hanni well, have all told me as much.