Salted, dried cod known as clip fish (Klipp Fisk) in northern Europe and bacalhau in Portuguese is more than a preserved fish. It is a traveler, a carrier of memory, and a culinary bridge between continents. From Norway’s drying racks to Portugal’s kitchens and onward across the Atlantic and Indian Oceans, clip fish became a staple of colonial pantries and, over generations, a beloved part of African cuisine.

In Lusophone Africa, particularly Cape Verde and Mozambique, bacalhau was not just transplanted it was transformed. Today, it lives on as festive dishes and everyday comfort food that are Portuguese in origin but unmistakably African in flavor, texture, and spirit.

From Maritime Necessity to Local Staple

The story of clip fish begins with preservation. Salting and drying cod made it lightweight, durable for long sea voyages, and resistant to spoilage in hot climates. Portuguese sailors and settlers carried bacalhau to their colonies, where it became a symbol of both practicality and connection to home.

But once in Africa, bacalhau met cassava, plantains, coconut, and peri-peri chilies. Over time, African cooks bent the recipes to local tastes and seasonal produce, turning a foreign import into something that tasted like home. What began as a colonial necessity slowly rooted itself in African soil not just in kitchens but in identity.

Cape Verde: Island Adaptation and Celebration

On the islands of Cape Verde, bacalhau is tied to festivity and family ritual. It appears at Christmas tables, weddings, and communal gatherings, where sharing food is an act of hospitality and belonging.

Classic Portuguese recipes such as bacalhau com natas (cod baked in cream and potatoes) and bacalhau à Gomes de Sá (cod with onions, olives, and eggs) have Cape Verdean twists. Here, potatoes are often replaced by cassava, bananas, or plantains, lending sweeter and earthier notes that reflect the island’s produce. In other versions, bacalhau is folded into bean stews or  pots of leafy greens, where it serves as both a protein and a flavor anchor.

For Cape Verdeans in the diaspora, these dishes are edible memory. A forkful of bacalhau com natas in Lisbon or Boston is more than nostalgia it is connection, keeping the islands alive across oceans.

Mozambique: Heat, Coconut, and Coastal Flair

On Mozambique’s Indian Ocean coast, bacalhau takes on a brighter, spicier profile. The popular bacalhau à Brás shredded cod stir-fried with onions, potatoes, and eggs is often spiked with  peri-peri chilies, transforming the dish with local fire.

Other Mozambican versions lean into the coast’s bounty: tomato-based stews are enriched with coconut milk, palm oil, or tropical spices, creating a luscious, deeply colored sauce that clings to the salted fish. These dishes are usually reserved for special occasions such as religious feasts or family milestones. In daily life, bacalhau remains rare, and that rarity makes its appearance symbolic a sign of abundance, remembrance, and respect for tradition.

How Clip fish Becomes Memory

In both Cape Verde and Mozambique, bacalhau is more than a recipe; it is a story. Every preparation carries echoes of migration, colonization, and reinvention. What began as a European staple has been claimed, adapted, and transformed into African tradition.

For Cape Verdeans, it is a taste that travels with the diaspora, grounding identity far from home.For Mozambicans, it is a reminder of layered histories and the ability to fuse worlds — Portuguese, African, coastal, and global — into one plate. In both cases, bacalhau is proof that food is never just about sustenance. It is memory you can eat.

Contemporary Reinvention and Pairings

Today, clip fish continues to evolve in African kitchens and beyond.

  • Cape Verdean cooks abroad swap in kale or collard greens for island greens or prepare bacalhau with locally available root vegetables.
  • Mozambican chefs experiment with coconut-rich bacalhau stews or peri-peri-laced cod fritters, blending tradition with innovation.
  • Fine-dining kitchens in Europe and Africa reinterpret bacalhau as croquettes, tapas, or plated entrées that nod to its humble roots.

Pairings are equally versatile: a crisp Portuguese Vinho Verde complements creamy bacalhau com natas, while palm wine, cashew liquor, or local beers bring the dishes firmly back into African contexts.

Recipe: Mozambican-Style Bacalhau à Brás with Peri-Peri

This recipe takes the Portuguese classic and infuses it with Mozambican heat and flair. Perfect for a festive meal or a bold midweek dinner.

Serves: 4 Ingredients

  • 400g salted cod (clip fish/bacalhau), soaked overnight to remove excess salt
  • 3 medium potatoes, peeled and cut into thin matchsticks
  • 1 large onion, thinly sliced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 fresh peri-peri chilies (or 1 tsp peri-peri sauce)
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil (or substitute with local oil such as sunflower or palm oil for a deeper flavor)
  • 4 eggs, lightly beaten
  • Handful of chopped fresh parsley
  • Black olives, for garnish
  • Salt and black pepper, to taste

Method

  1. Prep the cod: Drain the soaked cod, then simmer in fresh water for 10 minutes until tender. Drain, cool slightly, and shred into flakes, discarding bones and skin.
  2. Cook the potatoes: Heat oil in a large frying pan, then shallow-fry the potato matchsticks until golden and crisp. Remove and set aside.
  3. Build the base: In the same pan, add onions, garlic, and peri-peri chilies. Sauté until soft and fragrant.
  4. Bring it together: Add the shredded cod and fried potatoes to the pan, tossing well. Pour in the beaten eggs, stirring gently until the eggs are just set but still creamy.
  5. Finish: Season with salt and pepper, sprinkle with parsley, and garnish with black olives.

Serve hot, with a fresh salad or chapati on the side.

Final Reflection

Clip fish in Lusophone Africa is a story of resilience and reinvention. Preserved fish once meant for sailors’ survival has become a vehicle for identity, culture, and celebration.• In Cape Verde, it is creamy casseroles and cassava-rooted stews, shared around tables heavy with family and festivity.

  • In Mozambique, it is chili-bright stir-fries and coconut-laced stews, eaten at moments that matter most.

Across both places, bacalhau is more than fish. It is history — salted, carried across seas, and simmered into belonging. It is the delicious proof that when cultures meet, they do not simply collide. They create.

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