The South West region of Nigeria, predominantly inhabited by the Yoruba people, is one of the country’s most vibrant cultural and culinary landscapes. Comprising Lagos, Ogun, Oyo, Osun, Ondo, and Ekiti states, this region is known for its bold, flavorful, and deeply rooted cuisine that reflects the Yoruba values of family, celebration, and heritage.
Whether you’re in a roadside buka (local eatery), a family home, or an upscale Lagos restaurant, the foods of South West Nigeria tell stories of tradition, migration, and creativity. Let’s take a deeper look at some of the region’s signature dishes and why they continue to thrive in Nigerian kitchens—and hearts—today.
If there’s a dish that embodies Yoruba culinary identity, it’s amala with ewedu and gbegiri.
Amala is a dark, stretchy swallow made from yam flour (elubo) or sometimes cassava or plantain flour.
Ewedu soup is made from jute leaves, whisked into a slimy consistency with little seasoning—light but nutrient-rich.
Gbegiri is a smooth, earthy soup made from peeled black-eyed beans, thickened into a mild purée.
Combined and often topped with fiery ata dindin (pepper sauce) and assorted meats, this meal is the pride of Oyo State and revered throughout the Yoruba-speaking world.
Another Yoruba culinary gem is Ofada rice, a locally grown, short-grain rice variety with a distinctive aroma and chewy texture. It is often served with Ayamase, also known as Designer Stew.
Ayamase is a spicy green pepper sauce cooked with bleached palm oil and loaded with assorted meats—including beef, tripe, ponmo (cow skin), and liver.
The stew is rich, oily, deeply spiced, and unapologetically intense.
This dish is traditionally served on banana leaves and is most popular in Ogun and Lagos states, especially during parties, weddings, and festive gatherings.
No Yoruba dining table is complete without Efo Riro, a rich and colorful vegetable stew.
Made with ugu (fluted pumpkin) or spinach, tomatoes, peppers, onions, and generous amounts of palm oil.
The stew is laced with locust beans (iru), crayfish, and a medley of meats—goat, beef, stockfish, and snails.
Efo Riro is versatile. It can be served with swallows like pounded yam or amala, or even with white rice or boiled yam. The balance of texture, heat, and umami makes it one of the most beloved Yoruba dishes, especially in Osun and Ekiti states.
Yoruba cuisine shines just as brightly in the morning.
Akara are deep-fried bean cakes made from blended black-eyed peas, onions, and peppers. Crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, they are often eaten with pap (ogi) or bread.
Moin-Moin is a steamed bean pudding made with ground beans, oil, pepper, and sometimes fish, egg, or beef. It's wrapped in leaves or cooked in tins and served at breakfast, lunch, or parties.
Both dishes showcase the Yoruba mastery of beans as a staple, turning a simple ingredient into satisfying, protein-rich meals.
While the rest of the region preserves traditional Yoruba meals, Lagos, Nigeria’s commercial capital, is a culinary melting pot. Here, you’ll find everything from amala joints to international fusion restaurants.
Because of its diverse population, Lagos blends dishes from all over Nigeria—Igbo, Hausa, Efik, and beyond—while maintaining a strong Yoruba culinary backbone. Ofada, suya, nkwobi, and jollof rice all coexist on Lagos menus, making the city a food lover’s dream.
Food in Yoruba culture is more than nourishment—it’s symbolic. Offering a guest amala or Efo Riro is a show of respect and hospitality. Certain dishes are tied to festivals, chieftaincy titles, weddings, and even spiritual ceremonies. Cooking itself is considered an art, often passed down through generations with precision and pride.
From the smoky depth of gbegiri to the bold heat of ayamase, Yoruba cuisine reflects the heart of South West Nigeria—rich, complex, and communal. Each state adds its own nuance, but the shared ingredients of culture, tradition, and flavor make Yoruba food not only satisfying but unforgettable.
Whether you're in Ibadan enjoying a hot bowl of amala, or in Lagos biting into crispy akara, you're not just eating—you’re tasting history, identity, and soul.