Malagasy Cuisine, Madagascar

To me, food is often more than just sustenance. It’s an expression of a culture’s identity, history, and values. Through the ingredients people choose, how they prepare meals, and the rituals surrounding eating, I gain a window into their daily lives and deeper traditions. A single dish can reveal what they have in abundance, what’s been passed down through generations, and how people gather, celebrate, and connect. In many ways, exploring a country’s cuisine is to understand the heart of its people. Malagasy cuisine is no exception, blending influences from Africa, Oceania, Asia, and European (especially French) cultures.

Malagasy food often features rice as the staple ingredient, which is served with nearly every meal. Rice (called ‘vary’) forms the base of most dishes, typically paired with side dishes known as ‘laoka’. These can include meats like chicken, beef, or pork and seafood or vegetarian options. A laoka might be a simple vegetable stew, a spicy curry, or something more elaborate like ‘romazava’, a traditional beef stew simmered with leafy greens.

Romazava is Madagascar’s national dish, a hearty mix of beef, pork, or chicken with brèdes (local greens similar to spinach), flavoured with mild spices and served with rice. Another favourite is ‘akoho sy voanio’, a chicken dish with coconut milk and spices. Then there’s ‘ravitoto’, made from mashed cassava leaves, slow-cooked with pork for a deeply earthy meal.

I found myself thinking of romazava—its mix of fresh herbs, simmering meat, and leafy greens—and before I knew it, I was heading to the local market to gather the ingredients. After all, the only way to truly understand Malagasy cooking is to try it myself.

I bought bundles of brèdes, zebu beef, chicken, garlic, ginger, tomatoes, and onions. All simple ingredients that, once combined, create delicious, savoury magic. Returning to my temporary apartment, I threw open the window to let the sun stream in, put on a few soulful Malagasy tracks, and began preparing the food.

I laid the ingredients on the small counter, chopping the meat and vegetables. As the oil heated up, I washed the greens and set them aside. When the meat hit the pot, I relished the sizzling sound it made as it browned. I added the chicken to deepen the flavour, followed by the onions, their sharpness making my eyes sting. Each ingredient released its fragrance, tantalising my nose. I let it all simmer in beef broth, hovering around the pot, stirring occasionally. Meanwhile, the rice cooked gently in a separate pot. The final touch, the brèdes and a hint of chilli for spice went in next, the greens wilting into the dish as it finished cooking.

I spooned the romazava onto my plate, pairing it with the fluffy white rice. The stew was rich and hearty, the meat so tender it fell apart. A touch of spice lingered from the chilli, while the greens added an earthy flavour. It was warm, satisfying, and a true taste of Madagascar.