Jollofing it up in Aus

I imagine every parent is worried when their child leaves home for the first time and goes to university, albeit across the globe. My mumma gave me strong words before I left: 'Eat well and don't come back looking worse than you left. If you come back with an accent I will shoot you'. You'll be happy to know that everyone here thinks I'm very 'english' so there is no danger of me picking up an accent.
I know that the burning question everybody has is, 'If you can't eat oreos to survive, what on earth are you eating?!' Put simply, you can take the girl out of Accra but you can't take Accra out of the girl! Well not quite, I won't pretend that I was born and bred in Ghana but we all know that I love it dearly ;)
Yesterday I had a craving for jollof rice so set about making some.

Side note and background information: Scientists may be intrigued to know that I have discovered a new gene and am yet to publicise it, but you, my friends and family, get first dibs. It's called the rice gene. It has run in my family for a couple of generations, passed down from my grandmother, to my father and now to me. Having the gene means that you have no rational sense of the correct amount of rice to cook at any one time. You consequently cook double or more the amount of rice needed for the occasion. Put another way, if we were in a similar position to Jesus, we would have used rice instead of fish and bread to feed the 5,000. In fact, even though we have never been anywhere near the position Jesus was in, we still insist on cooking enough rice for 5,000 people. As I have this gene, I cooked enough jollof for a small village instead of one person. I froze some and gave some away and am still enjoying it from two days ago.

Since I've been here I haven't had fast food once, and am proud to say I have cooked every meal from scratch. See the complete meal below ;)

Breakfast