I was born in west Africa, and brought up between there, France and the UK in a French-Lebanese-British family. Unsurprisingly, then, our Christmas lunch was more than a bit diverse: my father always insisted on some British and Lebanese elements, while my mother contributed French dishes and technique; west African produce was also a must, because the house would be full of all nationalities, including our African family. Not only that, but our Christmas would invariably start with a guest list of about 20, and another 20 or so waifs and strays would always then turn up in need of feeding and watering. Today’s dishes were part of our regular seasonal festivities, as good in the sunshine as they are robust enough for a chilly British winter.
