Attiéké – Ivory Coast’s timeless culinary treasure, which now has Unesco status

One of my earliest childhood memories is hearing vendors sing “Attiéké chaud! Attiéké chaud!” or “Hot attiéké!” as they strolled the streets of my neighbourhood, balancing large baskets of this national delicacy on their heads.

Fast-forward 25 years and women carrying individually wrapped portions of the fermented cassava couscous still walk across Abidjan, Ivory Coast’s biggest city, selling this now Unesco-recognised dish.

An alternative to rice, it’s hard to find any hospitality venue in the Ivory Coast that doesn’t serve attiéké. From the most basic eateries to the fanciest restaurants and even on the beach, it’s everywhere.

Attiéké’s popularity has spilled over the country’s borders, and it is now found across Africa, especially in French-speaking countries.

It’s also very popular in neighbouring Ghana and my home country Sierra Leone, where they have some fairly unorthodox serving suggestions.

The distinctive tangy taste of attiéké comes from the cassava tubers mixed with fermented cassava, which gives it its unique flavour and texture.

The cassava is grated, dried and then steamed before serving.

Filling and versatile, Ivorian chef Rōze Traore describes its texture as “fluffy yet granular, similar to couscous”.

Mr Traore adds that the slight tanginess of attiéké provides a unique depth to meals, perfectly balancing spicy or savoury sauces.

For Paule-Odile Béké, an Ivorian chef who competed on the UK TV programme Masterchef: The Professionals, “sour, zingy and sweet” are the words that come to mind when she describes the taste of attiéké.

Gluten-free and available in different grain sizes, the finest is often the most expensive. Some places even sell red attiéké, which has been soaked in palm oil.

Eaten with a variety of dishes, the most popular version is with chargrilled chicken or fish, a simple, spicy tomato-based sauce and a salsa of chopped tomatoes and onions.

It was one of the first dishes I cooked for my husband when we met 15 years ago. He liked it so much, he suggested we open a restaurant serving just that.

Attiéké is unpretentious, although traditionally reserved for special occasions like weddings and birthdays, people now eat it every day.

Ms Béké, who comes from a family of attiéké-makers, explained some nuances.

“Our attieke will be a bit more yellow than some other regions due to the proximity of the sea,” she said.

A native of Jacqueville, a small coastal town where attiéké is made, she features it heavily in the menu of her New York supper clubs.

Although I left Ivory Coast at the age of 14 as civil unrest broke out, I have never been able to let go of attiéké.