"Houston Food Finder" x ChopnBlok
More Than a Chef, Ope Amosu of ChòpnBlọk is a Houston Food Ambassador
By Phaedra Cook
View the Article on Houston Food Finder Here
Chef and owner Ope Amosu is proud to offer West African cuisine at ChòpnBlọk alongside his wife, Janelle. While he’s honored to satisfy the cravings of a taste of home to those who hail from the region, he’s got a bigger goal. He wants the guests in his dining room to reflect the whole cultural melting pot of Houston.
“This is more than a restaurant — it’s a mission-driven concept,” he said. “The mission is clear: make our culture more accessible, and build a community along the way. Seeing my restaurant look like Houston — that’s important to me.”
Amosu started that mission at his food stand in POST Houston, located downtown at 401 Franklin. Thanks to his work there, he was named a James Beard Award Emerging Chef semifinalist last year. On October 1, fittingly on Nigerian Independence Day, he debuted a second location of ChòpnBlọk as a brick-and-mortar restaurant in a prime location at 507 Westheimer. The bigger space and kitchen gave him an opportunity to really showcase his culture through an expanded menu, cocktail offerings, West African decor and artwork. By the end of the year, the new, fully fledged restaurant had made quite an impression, earning best new restaurant nods from multiple publications. Just last week, he was named as a James Beard Award semifinalist again, this time in the Best Chef Texas category.
Born in London but sent to temporarily live with his grandparents in Nigeria at age two, Amosu ended up in Houston when his parents decided to relocate to the United States. He won a scholarship to Truman State University in Missouri thanks to his football prowess, and earned a Masters in Business Administration from Rice University in 2014. Initially convinced that he needed to pursue a financially lucrative career, he worked for General Electric after graduating. However, he started feeling like he was losing the connection to his roots. “The farther away I got from my mom’s house, the harder it became for me to access the culture I’d grown up with.” He combined his interests in business and food, and went into the restaurant business.
His first culinary influences were home cooks, but as someone going into business, he started seeking out professionals. By chance, Amosu spotted Houston chef and personality Chris Shepherd, who won a James Beard Award for his work in 2014, in a store and invited him to one of the private dinners he hosted ahead of opening ChòpnBlọk. Shepherd graciously attended, and Amosu said he’s been a supporter ever since.
Amosu’s ambition to have a multicultural clientele is entirely achievable. The names of the dishes may be unfamiliar to those outside of West African culture, but once you get past those, everything has a parallel. Amosu guided me through a tasting of the new Small Chops Social dishes available from 3 to 6:30 p.m. Monday through Friday. Most are smaller portions of the entrées — and therefore perfect for an exploration of the cuisine.
Everyone loves chips and dip, right? ChòpnBlọk’s version is a guilt-free combination of airy plantain chips with “Liberian greens”, a warm melding of collards and kale. Many cuisines have some kind of seared meat on a stick, and that’s what the Polo Club Suya is — three skewers of chargrilled flank steak that might also strongly remind Houstonians of fajitas. These are seasoned with Yaji Peanut Pepper Spice that Amosu imports from the Polo Club — a taste he says that West Africans crave and is hard to find in the United States.
ChòpnBlọk’s namesake dishes, the blọk pairings? Nothing intimidating there. They’re just comforting, incredibly flavorful stews. Black Star is named for Ghana, which has a black star in the middle of its flag amid stripes of red, gold and green. The dish is built around waakye rice, which gets its purplish-red color from being cooked in sorghum leaves. At ChòpnBlọk, the rice is stir-fried, nestled in a pool of yassa curry, a Senegalese creation influenced by years of French colonization made primarily with caramelized onions, Dijon mustard and lemon, then topped with Ikoyi shrimp (another ingredient that Amosu imports) and deeply carmelized cubed plantains.
Amosu’s own favorite curry is the buka. The name buka refers to the roadside restaurants and street stalls of Nigeria, and it’s made with tender short rib in a traditional West African red stew. For me, it brought to mind tavern food. (The lowbrow version is that good thing in the Crock Pot in the corner of your favorite dive bar.) It includes smoked rice. Rather than being put in a tray and stuck in a smoker, the technique is to let the bottom layer of rice burn, infusing the top part with smoky aroma and flavor. “I say, ‘When I’m gone, bury me with a bowl of buka!’” Amosu said with a grin.
The Coconut Chicken Bites are the most addictive item on the Small Chops menu. These have no relation at all to the frequently dry-and-tired coconut shrimp. (I’ve never had a version I liked.) These nuggets of juicy chicken are brined in coconut milk and housemade sweet onion vinaigrette, bathed in a batter with a house spice blend, garlic and Cajun seasoning, fried and come with Liberian aioli made with the same greens — collards and kale — as the chips and dip. Just think of them as popcorn chicken — and you’ll eat them like popcorn, too.
“At the sample station at POST Houston, people seem a little apprehensive. Then, they taste the food and their shoulders melt. ‘Oh, what was this? This is good.’ This person has never dabbled in my culture, and we’ve changed that for them.” Amosu said.
Respect for elders is a big part of West African culture, and Amosu gets a lot of joy from seeing what he calls the “OGs”, the older generation that emigrated to the United States before he did, in the restaurant. “It makes me really proud that they can see themselves represented in what we’re doing [at ChòpnBlọk]. That they can rap with it gives me so much juice,” he said. “To me, [ChòpnBlọk] is bigger than the food. Yes, I love seeing people’s reactions to what they’re eating and how it sits on their palate, but it’s really about the connections to the heritage. To me, it’s so precious and meaningful. We’re trying to preserve what was intended to disappear. Every day, we’re connecting the dots that were systematically meant to never be reconnected. When you look at the dynamic nature of the Black and African diaspora, you see that what we’re doing can serve as a bridge or a catalyst for bringing people back home. That’s really what we’re doing. We just try and make it taste good to get your attention.”
Amosu talked about Liberia, the first independent country in Africa, which was established for former slaves and free Blacks that were transported there by the American Colonization Society in the 1800s. (Lest you think that was a completely benevolent effort — part of the motivation was a belief that free Blacks could not integrate into White society.) When people are mistreated so horribly, it makes sense to make their culture insular and protect it from outsiders. What Amosu is doing instead is opening the doors and inviting anyone who’s interested to come and explore.
I voiced the thought — and I was surprised that it brought along sudden tears. Perhaps it’s because surmounting the past, opening the doors and welcoming people in is something that is so badly needed right now. It’s needed nationwide and across the cultural spectrum. Restaurants have the power to bring people together over shared love and exploration of food and culture. ChòpnBlọk’s bright little spot on Westheimer is leading the way.