Nneji: The Nigerian Connection

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Wedged between two fridge cases near the cash register at Kamala Kitchen, one of New York City’s few Kolkata-style restaurants, is a bookshelf stocked with Bengali magazines and self-published volumes. It functions as a mini lending library for Bengalis who visit the restaurant. “We are very socially active and we have lots of friends,” says Anup Datta, who runs the place with his wife, Debjani, and their son, Aritra. “We once had the conviction that we knew all of the Bengalis in this area. Once we opened Kamala Kitchen, we realized we only knew about twenty percent.”

By area, Algeria is the largest country in Africa; by population, the tenth-largest. But in New York, Algerian cuisine has secured only a tiny foothold. We've sought out garantita, a savory chickpea pudding, in Astoria, and traveled for excellent date-filled maamoul in Bath Beach, deep in southern Brooklyn. But otherwise, finding Algerian grub in the city has been a challenge. Recently, while strolling through Sunnyside, we spotted the green, white and red colors of the Algerian flag on a mural outside a public school. In New York, murals like these are a common way to illustrate the diversity of a student population. At this school, the national colors of about three dozen countries were on display, each of them charmingly painted by hand.

Something special happens when the sun goes down. Night markets, whether in Southeast Asia or in the heart of Queens, inspire a thrill — we call it a sense of wonder — that brings boundless childhood summers to mind. We still feel it, on warm-weather Saturdays, when we ride the elevated 7 train to the Queens International Night Market. (It's a pain to park anything bigger than a bicycle near the market; we always take public transportation.) Many of the other passengers seem to be headed our way. Surrounded by fellow pilgrims, our anticipation builds as we descend from the train platform and march south. As we near the market grounds, and as the wind freshens and comes about, perhaps we catch the scent of sizzling meat.

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