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    Divine Essentials African Market

    5.0 (6 reviews)
    Closed 12:00 pm - 6:00 PM

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    Front of house
    Andrew B.

    After starting this day frantically running away from Tropical Storm Beta across Houston, nearly canceling the trip last-minute due to a broken wiper blade, I got a "divine" message from the priest I saw that "God blessed cuisine down in Africa" and embarked on a voyage to "do the things we never had" down in "TOTO-lly" African food-deprived Clear Lake. I narrowed my choices down to a few African markets and a couple of restaurants I could decide to visit, several of them on a straight shot from Fulshear into Katy and Westheimer, and went about 10 miles down the road with only some "whispers of some quiet conversation" drawing me into the left lane at a red light off the freeway. I was only intending to go around some clogged traffic in the right lanes, but then I glanced to the left to see the words "African Market" in a tiny strip mall. The empty storefront was clearly "longing for some solitary company" and, despite knowing I wouldn't be able to buy anything perishable, I turned left on a whim as if to say "Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you," not expecting to buy anything but ultimately leaving $23 poorer and spiritually much richer. I walked in to be greeted with the signature West African hospitality, each touch of my hand upon an exotic ingredient drawing the curiosity of the store manager as to whether I'd eaten it before. Given that African cuisine tends to specialize in ingredients most Westerners have never heard of and keeping the names of each ingredient in many possible dialects straight is almost prohibitively difficult, I polled the Nigerian man by the freezer about whether each ingredient was what I understood it to be. Sadly, the African yams were almost gone and rather shriveled up, but I found several alluring ingredients on the back shelves through the help of a bearded Nigerian longing for his own suya business and the gregariously extroverted Ghanaian woman at the front register. Named "Divine" and thus lending double meaning to the title of the market, she was perhaps the highlight of the visit, as her passionate love for her country's cuisine was only surpassed by her unconditional love for all humans who walked through the door. I always make it a point to buy at least something when I meet a soul like this, and not only did I want to buy the musty bark-tinged odorous "waakye" leaves to make my own version of this Ghanaian staple I grew up eating every January, but I wanted to compare it to her own home-cooked version. Divine jumped out of her chair like a fire had been lit under it to serve me a portion of waakye with beef stew, and returned also with a complimentary small tub of the peanut-inflected beef suya (kebab). In those 10 minutes of interaction time, Divine expressed a true gratefulness for life and an unshakeable faith in the miracles that have kept the doors open so far and that everything will work out for the best, despite the financial challenges of running a business in the relative middle of nowhere during a pandemic. I almost didn't want to leave even to actually eat the food, but I ushered myself outside into my car through the pouring rains to sit down and chow down. The suya was somewhat chewy, but the dry peanut and Cameroon pepper coating gave the thin slices of meat a flavor and texture similar to jerky that held me over until the waakye cooled off slightly. The base of black-eyed peas and rice, stained brown by the infusion of sorghum grass into the cooking liquid until the dish itself smells like grass, was not dry but redolent with the cooking fat and mild spices, then coated in a deep, rich, and earthy spicy tomato sauce. While "there's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do" to possibly "divine" all its ingredients, the sauce was the most memorable part of the dish itself (and in retrospect, it was probably made with "shito," the dried fish-accented spicy tomato condiment in every Ghanaian market I later visited). The beef itself was somewhat chewy in the center, but the requisite work had been done in the stewing pot to get some of the cartilage to disintegrate and loosen the fibrous tissue. I ate eagerly, each bite overflowing me with the love put into this treasure of home cooking, but carefully enough not to be overwhelmed with joy and also the thought of "what is this thing that I've become?" to have committed to eating this behemoth of a meal along with another one in about an hour. I knew it was "gonna take a lot to drag me away from you" (and by this point in my stomach's existence, "drag" is the operative word), but the call of even more food further down the road in Westheimer came "as sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti," and I had to depart on my "12:30 flight" to the next destination, praying for God to "bless the rains" in West Africa, my newest favorite food destination.

    The store shelfs

    The nicest staff to help with all your needs. The store is very clean and neat. The staff is the best

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