Setting Foot on Harlem’s Ivory Coast
2 November 2010 - James Boo
“When you eat together, then you really get the appetite.”
Sage words coming from the local businessmen sitting beside my table of four. After several amused glances in our direction, they break into full smiles at the sight of an enormous platter descending upon their table. They shift focus to a mountain of Wolof (or Jollof) rice, vegetables and roasted lamb. We marvel at the audacity of hunger, and they ask why we bothered to order our lunch individually when we could have put in the same amount of cash for a full family meal. Laughter and pats on the back end my unforgettable first experience with West African cuisine in New York.
The restaurant formerly known as Treichville (the signs outside now read “BOA Restaurant”), where I met these happy, hungry fellows, is tucked behind impermeable window grates around the corner from Patsy’s Pizzeria in East Harlem. Save one small neon sign, it’s easy to mistake the place for an abandoned venture. One step into the cozy space revives the senses, and a home-cooked menu written only on the server’s mind whets the appetite with its directness. Many restaurants cultivate signature dishes to make their names ring out. This one opts to replace the guesswork of choice with an abiding trust in quality.
When a meal as essential as lamb, rice and vegetables is on the table, it’s all the more rewarding that this trust is rewarded. I still don’t know exactly when it’s available – Treichville’s lunch menu offers no more than three dishes at a time, with a rotating selection based on meats the kitchen decides to buy for any given day – but would give this dish my highest recommendation if it’s on offer. The rice itself is a feat of comfort food: Cooked in a lamb-and-vegetable broth, it infuses firm grains with a complex flavor and beautiful color. Splashed with a mild gravy and topped with an assortment of stewed vegetables, it’s a money-making dish all on its own.
The chunks of well-done lamb – some of them bone-in, none of them coming from a consistent cut of meat – are tender, tasty and accessible. Behind them is a small scoop of rice from the very bottom of the pot. Crunchy, chewy and greasy, this perhaps twice-fried treat becomes a textural highlight when sprinkled throughout the rest of the dish. The sum of these parts is a ten-dollar cure-all for hunger, enough for three people to share but possibly pre-ordained for one very happy stomach. I’m certain that the majority of West Africans can’t afford to eat this well on a daily basis, so I do my best to scrape my plate clean on their behalf. Is it strange to anyone else that eating more is the second best way to recognize that we shouldn’t waste food on the table?
I haven’t been to Treichville for dinner, where more French-inspired cuisine seems to have its place. Lunch tends to split into two categories: a rice dish much like the one just described and a stew dish served with plain white rice. This one, which I believe is or is related to soupe kandia, is a rich bowl of palm oil, okra and a cavalcade of spices distilled into one dark, silky broth. A smile-inducing selection of vegetables, including yam, yucca and peppers, join soft chunks of lamb to produce a dish that rivals some of my favorite curries and stews in its breadth of ingredients and depth of flavor.
On all days but Wednesday, service of Senegalese thiebou djenne (“chieb-oo-jen”) begins during the lunching hour. It’s essentially a more robust version of the daily rice dish, with a few clear differences that make it the gourmet choice. Treichville’s thiebou (“rice”), cooked in fish stock, is prepared from broken rice, giving this dish rougher edges and a pleasingly chewy texture. A full rainbow of distinctively flavored vegetables, including eggplant, cauliflower, okra, white cabbage and one sweet carrot, cradles the rice, along with a delicate chunk of braised fish, a whole scotch bonnet and a wedge of fresh lime.
On the side are three dollops of chutney-like sauces. Based in tomato, pepper and something green, each sauce contributes a kick of flavor – pickled, pungent and spicy – to whatever spoonful happens to be making the journey from plate to palate. Judging from the loving odes of Robert Sietsema, Treichville might be missing the mark when it comes to tamarind and palm oil, but as far as I can tell we’re not exactly worse off for the difference.
My table chooses from an array of ways to wash down our meal. The businessmen favor summer Vimto, a fruit-flavored soda imported from Britain, and a mango-carrot soft drink served in voluptuous plastic bottles. My company springs for less familiar territory, sampling iced, sweetened bissap (hibiscus tea), strong and sweet ginger lemonade (above) and a fantastic lassi-like beverage whose name is entirely illegible in my field notes from the day.
Before saying goodbye, we ask about the complementary coffee that sits beside the door. One bitter, herbal, spicy drag from a viscous cup of the stuff sets our table alight with hypotheses on its secret ingredient, a conversation that continues until the Treichville’s manager brings out a bag of Senegalese coffee beans and asks us to take a deep breath. Café touba, a ground mixture of coffee beans and long pepper, fills our cups with a medicinal tone, a heavy body and a bite that lands squarely between ginger and black pepper.
Our waitress grins at our gaping interest in what goes into that drip-filter pot. One of the businessmen assures us that with a cup of touba, virility is nigh. As I finish my coffee and saunter over to Patsy’s for a dessert slice, I look forward to my next chance to order thiebou djenne for five – at a place like this, appetite has few limits.
Since this story was published, BOA Restaurant/Treichville has closed its doors.
BOA Restaurant/Treichville – West African Cuisine
339 E. 118th St.
New York, NY 10035
212.369.7873
