Strengthening bonds through the delight of a beignet bite

I grew up eating puff puff, and I still crave it just like I did when I was a child. At some point, my mother sold puff puff, and even after she stopped selling it, she never stopped making it at home. I still enjoy puff puff, especially with pepper or beans. It brings back sweet childhood memories.

My best memories of my short time spent with my maternal grandmother were when she would always make a fresh batch of Vitumbua early in the morning for me to eat with my milk tea before going to school. As an adult, I search for the best maker in the market or family. I can’t leave them alone. I’ll fill up on these before the actual food.

Puff-puff isn’t just food for me—it’s pure nostalgia.

​Growing up, this golden treat was my ultimate comfort. It was breakfast, a mid-day snack, or dinner, depending on the day. Golden-brown, airy, and bursting with warm, inviting flavor, you simply couldn’t eat just one especially with hot chilly pepper by the side.

​My mom ran a restaurant, and every morning started with the heavenly aroma of fresh puff-puff paired with savory beans. Unsurprisingly, that became our staple household breakfast—and I never complained once.

​Later, at boarding school, puff-puff day was sacred. It was served just once a week, and the whole school practically vibrated with excitement waiting for it. It wasn't just a meal; it was the undisputed highlight of our week.

​One bite, and I’m instantly right back home.

We call it Puff Puff in Cameroon. Growing up, I always looked forward to Mum coming back from the market because she would often bring some home for us to share. It was such a simple treat, but those little moments with my siblings are what I remember most.

In my family, Puff-Puff was part of busy Saturday mornings. It was served warm, shared from one bowl, and usually disappeared before everyone sat down.