What to Eat in Cameroon

Cameroon’s cuisine mirrors its geography, from Sahelian north to forested coast and volcanic highlands. Markets brim with cassava, plantain, cocoyam, maize, and greens, while rivers and the Atlantic supply fish. Palm oil, peanuts, and local spices ground hearty sauces and stews.

Meals pair a starch—fufu, rice, miondo, or plantain—with a richly seasoned sauce eaten communally. Fermentation and smoking suit the humid south; grains and groundnuts sustain the drier north. Street grills glow at dusk, while home cooking favors slow, shared pots.

Ndolé starts with bitterleaf (Vernonia amygdalina) painstakingly washed or briefly parboiled to tame its astringency, then simmered in a base of ground peanuts loosened with stock and enriched with palm oil, onions, and chilies. Cooks add shrimp, beef, or cow skin, and season with ground crayfish and djansang (Ricinodendron heudelotii), building a sauce that is creamy, nutty, and only gently bitter, with tender greens suspended in a velvety gravy. The dish, associated with Duala and wider Sawa coastal cultures, reflects the rainforest’s year‑round supply of leafy vegetables and the long Cameroonian tradition of peanut thickened stews. Common at weddings, holidays, and weekend gatherings in Douala and Yaoundé, ndolé is typically served with boiled plantain, rice, or fermented cassava sticks such as miondo or bobolo, and it anchors both formal ceremonies and everyday family tables.

Eru brings together finely shredded Gnetum africanum leaves and chopped waterleaf (Talinum triangulare), which releases a gentle mucilage that binds the pot into a cohesive stew. The greens simmer with palm oil, ground crayfish, smoked fish, and meats like beef or cow skin (kanda), while chilies and salt sharpen the finish; some households fold in periwinkle for briny bursts. Herbaceous, savory, and slightly slick, eru balances chew from the eru leaves with smoky depth from preserved proteins and a lush mouthfeel from waterleaf. Rooted among Manyu and Bayangi communities of the Southwest and closely related to Nigerian afang, it is eaten with garri or water fufu at home canteens, social events, and midday meals across Buea and Bamenda, where a single pot can feed a crowd without losing its bold character.

Achu is a smooth, elastic mound made by pounding hot, boiled cocoyam tubers—sometimes with a little ripe plantain—with a heavy pestle until glossy and cohesive. Its partner, “yellow soup,” is an emulsion created by whisking red palm oil with alkaline salts (kanwa or potash), meat stock, and a distinctive spice profile that may include calabash nutmeg and country onion; pieces of beef, tripe, or cow skin are added to enrich it. The soup coats the palate with an aromatic, slightly earthy tang while the achu gives gentle resistance, a texture prized in the highland Grassfields where cocoyam thrives. Central to ceremonies in and around Bamenda—weddings, naming rites, funerals—it is eaten with the right hand by pressing small wells into the achu to scoop soup, and it often serves as a generous midday or special‑occasion meal shared by extended family.

Koki begins with black‑eyed peas soaked to loosen their skins, which are rubbed off before the beans are ground into a smooth batter. Beaten with red palm oil until bright and lightly aerated, then seasoned with salt, chilies, and often ground crayfish, the mixture is ladled into banana‑leaf parcels, tied, and steamed until set into a tender, pudding‑like cake. The result slices cleanly yet stays moist, offering a nutty bean flavor and the distinct aroma of palm oil without heaviness. Valued for its portability and shelf stability in a warm climate, koki is packed for travel, sold in markets and at bus stops, and served for Sunday lunches and festive tables alongside boiled plantain, cassava, or a sprinkle of garri in homes from Douala to Yaoundé.

Mbongo tchobi is built on a spice paste charred over flame to a near‑black, then blended: mbongo (peppery forest spice), njansan (Ricinodendron heudelotii), alligator pepper, black pepper, garlic, ginger, tomatoes, and onions. The paste is fried in oil and simmered with bone‑in fish—commonly catfish or tilapia—until the sauce turns inky and glossy, its aroma smoky with a round, nutty undertone from njansan and a gentle heat from peppers. The flavor is bold yet balanced, slightly bitter‑sweet with deep umami that clings to the delicate fish without masking it. Associated with Bassa and Bakoko cooks along the coast, the stew is a favored Sunday and celebration dish in Douala, Kribi, and Limbe, typically served with miondo or ripe plantain and reflecting coastal access to fresh catch and a tradition of spice‑forward preservation.

Cameroon’s cuisine stands out for its meeting of forest greens, fermented cassava starches, palm‑oil emulsions, and a spice pantry spanning njansan to country onion. Coastal fish cookery sits beside Grassfields pounding traditions, creating layered textures and flavors across regions and seasons. Explore more regional dishes, seasonal tips, and climate‑savvy travel ideas in Sunheron’s food guides, then use our tools to plan when and where to taste them.