I was walking back to my grandmother’s house, the first time walking the streets of Nigeria by myself. I was hungry and doing my best to avoid the thick smell of smog from the Puegot car that just drove past me. I was almost home, but my hunger was distracting me; I was caught between hurrying up and getting home and stopping to find something to snack on while on the way home. I came across a man and a grill; on one side was corn wrapped in foil, on the other were thick cubes of marinated goat meat, on long deformed wooden sticks. covered in chicken pollo, cayenne pepper, salt and pepper, and then blanketed with smoke from the grill, I bought 3 sticks. I have never been a fan of the skin of goat meat, its usually pretty thick, and is only a barrier from the real prize. This time, though, it didn’t seem to matter. The brisk winds didn’t seem to matter, as I was being warmed by the grill and enjoying the satisfying feeling of fulfilling hunger. The skin of a goat is pretty thick, something I have never been a fan of. But this time it was either done perfectly, or I was just to hungry. Outer layers and edges of the meat were semi-burnt, leaving it crisp on the outside and chewy all the way through. The meat had an earthy aroma, not to much, with perfect combination of all the spices. As I continued to chew, it created a moment which I can best describe and remember by the smells of the cars driving past me, the grill, the weather, and smell of the meat being cooked.