Lahoh
By: Amira Omer
Home. What is home to me? Is it here in Canada? Even though all I’ve ever known is Canada, I feel as though this isn’t completely home. Growing up, I’ve felt distant from that part of my identity. I was completely lost and had little to no connection with it. I didn’t know who I fully was. There weren’t many people who I could relate to outside of home here in Canada.
I remember the day I touched down back home in Hargeisa, Somaliland. I was surrounded by a new atmosphere, left wandering in a world filled with things that I didn’t know. It was like I was completely lost, stuck in a maze. Clueless. In a country thousands of kilometres away from my house in Canada and across the vast Atlantic, I was confused and disoriented. The language was new, the environment was new and the food was new. The city’s atmosphere was hectic. I was immersed in the food stalls, vibrant buildings, people bargaining and the honking of cars on the dirt roads. My 8-year-old self tried to wrap her head around what she was seeing. The city was chaotic, out of order and loud, but weirdly enough that it brought a sense of peace to my heart. I knew at that moment I found home. I was so overwhelmed with the change in lifestyle and culture, that I didn’t even know where and how to begin searching. But as I learned from my Hoyo (Somali for “mother”), the best way to learn about a culture is through the food. As a picky child, I didn’t like many dishes, but Lahoh was one of the dishes I easily fell in love with. The thin and airy texture melts in your mouth, and the sweet aroma of the honey has a charming scent to it. My Hoyo learned the dish from my Ayeyo (Sonali for "grandmother"), and I’m starting to learn it too. This dish is reminiscent of home. Today, despite the ocean and thousands of kilometers between us I can still taste that home with every bite I take.
I remember the day I touched down back home in Hargeisa, Somaliland. I was surrounded by a new atmosphere, left wandering in a world filled with things that I didn’t know. It was like I was completely lost, stuck in a maze. Clueless. In a country thousands of kilometres away from my house in Canada and across the vast Atlantic, I was confused and disoriented. The language was new, the environment was new and the food was new. The city’s atmosphere was hectic. I was immersed in the food stalls, vibrant buildings, people bargaining and the honking of cars on the dirt roads. My 8-year-old self tried to wrap her head around what she was seeing. The city was chaotic, out of order and loud, but weirdly enough that it brought a sense of peace to my heart. I knew at that moment I found home. I was so overwhelmed with the change in lifestyle and culture, that I didn’t even know where and how to begin searching. But as I learned from my Hoyo (Somali for “mother”), the best way to learn about a culture is through the food. As a picky child, I didn’t like many dishes, but Lahoh was one of the dishes I easily fell in love with. The thin and airy texture melts in your mouth, and the sweet aroma of the honey has a charming scent to it. My Hoyo learned the dish from my Ayeyo (Sonali for "grandmother"), and I’m starting to learn it too. This dish is reminiscent of home. Today, despite the ocean and thousands of kilometers between us I can still taste that home with every bite I take.
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Directions:
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Ingredients:
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This recipe makes approximately 20-25 Lahohs
Whole wheat flour 2 cups Teff flour ¾ cups Pancake batter 1 cup Oat flour ⅔ cups Water 1.25 liters Butter 2 tablespoon |