By the time you read this I will be in Berlin, Germany, to attend a writers’ conference. The headline act (how showbiz lingo has penetrated even such cerebral activities as book talk!) will be Ben Okri. Okri is a British writer of Nigerian descent; or a Nigerian writer living in Britain; or simply a writer who happens to have been born in Nigeria but now peddles his wares in Britain. Okri is a big cheese, his novel The Famished Road having won the Booker Prize in 19-voetsek, as we say in the township when we can’t remember the year. You can google it. I can’t because I am so excited trying to tell you why it’s so important to me, in my career as a fledgling novelist, to have been invited to this writers’ conference where I will be talking about writers and feminism. What’s that got to do with this column about food, you ask. Sit down, comrade, sit down. In preparation for my trip to Germany I thought I should go to a local German restaurant. Just to get my taste buds ready for the a...

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