This post is a discussion on different dishes famous in different regions of Kenya, and why they are characteristic to the specific region
Alright, so apparently we have counties now. Cute. But back in Class 4, we were drilled on provinces (or regions ), and that’s what I’m rolling with for this post. 7 regions > 47 counties—simple math.
I have been fortunate enough to have lived in at least 4 regions of the country by now, but still, that is no guarantee that I know what I’m talking about.
And yes, I might generalize a little, but honestly, counties can be redundant. Cross from one to the next, and half the time, nothing really changes. So for the sake of my sanity (and yours), we’re keeping it regional.
You have probably seen this argument before that Kenyan food is kind of bland, I don’t completely disagree or agree, kuna ka-ukweli fulani hapo, but that is for another post.
Here is my personal ranking of different regions of Kenya and how important they are to the general Kenyan cuisine, based on what they brought to the table
7. Central
Yes. The memes don’t exaggerate it. Central Kenyan cuisine is a punching bag for every Kenyan food joke for a reason.
The only objectively good thing to ever spawn from Central Kenya is mutura. Everything else? Bland. You can tweak the recipe, add spices, summon the ancestors—it doesn’t matter. The taste remains stubbornly average.
And if there’s one thing Central Kenya loves, it’s starch. Literally almost all their dishes are starch-heavy. Specifically, waruu (Irish potatoes) is the choice of starch, despite them growing maize and rice too
These potatoes are so deeply entrenched in the culture that the entire nation just abandoned their proper Swahili name (viazi) and we all summon them by the central name.
And yes, our Central Kenya brethren have a legendary reputation for shoving these said potatoes into literally everything. Here’s a banter clip for reference.
Like, why are there potatoes in a beef stew, Wangeci?
But the potato obsession isn’t their only crime. The other? An even worse one? The ability to stretch food by any means necessary—which usually means flooding it with water.
Now, I’m not sure if this is due to generational frugality or just habit, but the end result? A couple of food fragments lost in a vast ocean of broth.
Calling it soup feels like a legal gray area because real soup has some thickness. This? This is just thufuu—thanks alot Central Kenya.
And considering 4 out of every 5 of my friends are from this region; if they decide to end me after this post, that is perfectly fine honestly. I’ll go out a martyr.
6. Eastern
So, the Eastern folks are apparently big on githeri. It’s like their signature dish. Now, let’s be honest—most people hate githeri, and for good reason.
Back in the day, it was the uncontested dish of school lunch tables. Kids today are too soft for such struggles, so I’m not even sure if githeri still haunts the dining halls.
Read More Here: A Sincere Guide to Kenyan School Meals
To be fair, the githeri served in school was a crime against humanity, and homemade versions are obviously an upgrade. But let’s not pretend it’s some culinary masterpiece—it’s literally just maize and beans thrown into a pot and stewed into oblivion at the end of the day.
That doesn’t sound creative or exciting. It doesn’t even taste that good; you eat it for the nostalgia (well, I do).
Now, Eastern Kenya does have a githeri 2.0—muthokoi. It’s the same thing, except the maize is shelled, making it less fibrous and surprisingly tastier. But, of course, there’s a trade-off—it’s less nutritious than the OG githeri. So, you win some, you lose some.
Other than that, I can’t think of any major Eastern Kenyan dish that stands out. They do have top-tier honey and mangoes, but let’s be real—those don’t get a seat at today’s table on traditional Kenyan cuisine.
5. Rift Valley
Rift Valley is huge—almost a third of the country—so naturally, I expected a buffet of exciting dishes. Turns out… not really. Off the top of my head, only two stand out: maziwa mala and Maasai nyama choma.
It makes sense, though. The region is home to predominantly Nilotic communities, who have historically been nomads and pastoralists. So, naturally, their cuisine leans more towards animal products rather than plant-based dishes.
Now, most Kenyan communities have their own version of fermented milk (maziwa lala), but I have to admit—Rift Valley does it best.
I’m from Southern Nyanza (a careful way of saying mimi ni Mkisii 😭), and while we also ferment milk, whatever the Kalenjins are brewing over there is next level.
Their version is called mursik, and it’s not just fermented milk—it’s a craft. They use a gourd (or is it a calabash? Honestly, I have no idea), and there’s some magic involving burnt plant ash that gives it a distinct, smoky flavor.
A friend once tried to explain the process to me—something about lining the gourd with ash burnt from a specific plant, adding some seeds for fermentation, and then pouring in the milk.
Sounds vague? That’s because I only half-listened. But all you need to know is mursik is elite.
But practically, it’s ridiculously labor-intensive. Between sourcing the plant, preparing the gourd, and fermenting the milk, it’s no wonder mursik hasn’t gone mainstream. Some things are just too traditional to industrialize.
I mean we have maziwa mala in the supermarkets, but those are nothing compared to mursik.
Also Read: The 5 Popular Maziwa Mala (Lala) Brands in Kenya: Worst to Best
Moving down south to the Maasai land, yes these guys are known for eating raw organs and drinking blood from a cow’s veins, but that is not what they exported to the general country cuisine. It’s their style of nyama choma
While literally every region grills meat, there is just some oomph in the nyama choma in Maasai land. I have been to Narok, and that is where I had the best nyama choma of my life, and it wasn’t just one restaurant, but the entire region
Even if you want good nyama choma in Nairobi, chances are you will end up in the Kajiado areas, which are, you guessed it, Maasai regions
4. North Eastern
Most of us haven’t been to North Eastern, well unless you were born there or you attended your friend’s wedding named Abdullatif, who you went to high school with, yes they marry in their early 20s mostly
So not very informed about the cuisine up there, but I know it’s predominantly Somali dishes, and I have had my fair share of Somali dishes in restaurants. Maybe not the traditional Somali grandma cooking, but I imagine close enough
Also Read: 5 Best Somali Restaurants in Nairobi CBD
And we all agree Somali food is sooo good, it can be weird sometimes, yes, but it never misses, always tastes good. What do I mean by weird? Well, funny pairings like their version of crepes and stew for breakfast, and eating spaghetti alongside a ripe banana.
Even in Kisii, (the banana republic) we don’t eat spaghetti with bananas🤨, matter fact we don’t eat spaghetti.
Well, that said, I have even tried their classic recipes at home, and they turned out okayish for a first timer and just tasted so good. Dishes tried were like suqaar, malawax, sabayaad, maraq just to name some
Check all those recipes I did under this tag on the site SOMALI CUISINE
3. Western
The stereotypical Western Kenya guy? Built like a tank. Strong, buff, and full of energy—the kind of person who makes you reconsider your gym membership.
It’s no surprise that nearly half of the Kenyan Rugby 7s team hails from this region. And yes, a big part of it boils down to food.
Sure, the whole country eats ugali, but Western Kenya takes it to another level. These are the real ugali enthusiasts. The rest of us? Mere casuals. And forget that soft, sifted maize meal ugali—these guys go straight for the good stuff: whole grain kisiagi ugali. Honestly, you should too.
Read More: Recipe: Ugali Kisiagi (Wholegrain)
Their ultimate combo? Ugali and chicken—obosima ne engokho (which I’m 99% sure I just butchered, so bear with me).
But not just any chicken. We’re talking about slow-stewed, free-range, organic chicken—the kind that actually has flavor and doesn’t taste like it spent its life indoors watching Netflix, unlike those sad broilers from the supermarket.
Of course, they don’t just live on chicken. There’s their version of fermented milk, Amabere amasatse, the legendary bean-and-sweet-potato mash omushenye, and a generous helping of traditional veggies—especially mrenda, which sounds very Luhya, but don’t quote me on that.
2. Nyanza
I’m from here so if you feel like I’m being biased, go cry about it😂
The south of Nyanza is already a goldmine for plant-based produce, and then the Luo brethren up North take things to the next level with their fish game.
If you’re all about fresh, organic food, just pack your bags and move to Kisumu or Kisii. Nairobi life is draining you anyway.
Starting with the south—Kisii land. People here have 99 problems, but food isn’t one of them. A massive bunch of green bananas goes for KSh 300, the same thing that costs over 1K in the city.
That life-changing creamy avocado you once ate? Probably from here. And the organic veggies? Managu, sagaa, terere—all from this region. Eating healthy here isn’t some expensive, conscious effort—it just happens by default. In fact, you’d have to go out of your way not to eat healthy.
And it’s not just veggies—fruits are everywhere. Guavas (mapera), berries, and loquats? Everyone has a tree or two. It’s practically illegal not to.
Now, onto traditional cuisine. I won’t get into all of it (that’s a post for another day), but let’s talk about the highlights.
There’s erongori, a fermented porridge that’s absolutely elite. Then, of course, ugali—like everyone else—but here, it’s paired with those organic veggies.
People here despise exotic veggies like spinach, sukuma wiki, and cabbage. That’s town people’s food.
Around here, dinner is ugali, veggies, avocado, and maziwa mala.
Speaking of maziwa mala, the Kisii version—Amabere Amaroranu—is the most acidic thing you’ll ever drink. Fermented to the point where it feels like it’s dissolving your tongue. Oddly similar name to the Luhya one? Well, that’s just Western Bantus being Western Bantus.
And speaking of erongori and amabere amaroranu; today is when I’m noticing the Kisii people have an affinity for fermented foods.
Anyway, I’m getting carried away, so let’s keep it short: the most iconic dish in South Nyanza? Amatoke. And yes, as the name suggests, it’s literally a matoke stew. If you’re in Kisii at lunchtime, this is what’s on the menu.
Now, heading north—this is where the Luos shine with their sweet potatoes and fish. Tilapia, Nile perch, omena—they don’t just have it, they know how to cook it, especially omena.
For such a tiny region, Nyanza is ridiculously diverse when it comes to food. It had to make it to the top of the list.
1. Coast
If you are reading here and you happen to be from the coast, I just wanna say I love you. Every dish that Kenyans universally love happens to be from the coast regions.
You guys gave us pilau, which is basically biryani but from Temu, and we are forever grateful.
As if pilau was not enough, bam! Chapati, viazi karai, mahamri, pojo, vitumbua, mbaazi, wali wa nazi, I can keep going and going but no dish from the coast is a flop.
So yes, it’s not even a contest the coastal region has the best cuisine in the country and that is that.
The Coast is not winning awards for being healthy as most dishes are deep fried here, but taste is taste and they’re winning here.
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