My Experience on Slicing Afang Leaf: A Blend of Tradition, Labor, and Love

Hello great steemian, I believe we are all doing great. In Akwa Ibom state we are blessed with a lot of find cuisine including Afang soup.

Every Akwa Ibomite growing up in the state, will have always been surrounded by the aroma of traditional soups, each one unique, rich in culture, and loaded with memories. But among all the delicious meals I have enjoyed, Afang soup remains one of my all-time favorites and the best soup ever. Not just because of its amazing taste, but also because of the personal experience I have had in preparing it, especially the task that many people try to avoid; sliding Afang leaf, it never an easy task to some people like me, but easy to some.

For those who doesn’t know what I mean by Afang leaf, it is also known as Okazi in Igbo language, is a tough, dark green leaf used in making Afang soup. It’s not the kind of leaf you just cut and throw into a pot. No. It has to be sliced extremely thin—almost like strands of hair. This process is what we call sliding, and let me tell you, it is not for the faint-hearted.

Today happens to be My first experience sliding Afang leaf. It was both funny and frustrating. I nearly chopped my fingers with the sliding knife. I took a bowl full of freshly plucked Afang leaves and a razor-sharp knife, and with a smile, I said, “Let’s me surprise Everyone in the house today that I can do it very neat and perfect. But was I able to?

At first, I thought it would be easy. I held a small bunch of leaves, folded them nicely between my fingers, placed them on the chopping board, and started slicing. The first few slides came out too thick. “No, no, no,” I said to myself ,@emmalex25 you are not getting it, my mom said from the other side of the kitchen. “That’s not how we slide Afang. You have to slice it thinner than that!” I was like, wow is she serious?

So, I tried again. This time, I sliced it so thin, the knife slipped and almost cut my thumb. I jumped back, took a deep breath, and adjusted my grip. I realized that slicing Afang is an art and a talent to acquire. You don’t rush it. You need patience, precision, and steady hands. Kudos to those that slice it without looking and with ease.

After a few trials and corrections from my mom, I began to get the hang of it. My slices became thinner, neater, and more consistent. I was proud of myself. There was a kind of satisfaction in seeing a bowl of finely sliced Afang leaves and knowing that I did it myself. The leaves looked like green threads, ready to blend perfectly with waterleaf, periwinkle, meat, and all the other delicious ingredients.

Today, I not only learned how to slide Afang, I learned how important this task is in preserving the quality and flavor of the soup. If you don’t slice Afang properly, it can come out chewy and tough in the soup. But when done right, it melts beautifully into the mix and gives the soup its signature taste and texture.

From now on. I can proudly boost of sliding Afang because I believe it will become something I will do with pride. It may not be easy, but it connects me to my roots. It reminds me of who I am and where I come from. It teaches me patience, and it makes me appreciate the hard work that goes into every pot of traditional soup.

So, the next time you enjoy a plate of Afang soup, take a moment to appreciate the process behind it, especially the hands that carefully and lovingly slid those tough leaves into thin perfection.

Thank you all for reading through and I used this opportunity to invite @bossj23 @basil20 @ruthjoe to this post.