Abenkwan: The Ghanaian Palm Nut Soup That Feeds a Funeral and a Wedding
Abenkwan is not a simple soup. It is the soup you make when something matters — a funeral, a wedding, a homecoming. Here is how to make it properly.
Abenkwan is Akan food at its most fundamental. This is Ashanti, Fante, Akuapem territory — the cooking of the forest belt and the coast, where palm trees are so prevalent they are part of the landscape in a way that makes palm nuts not an ingredient but a birthright. The soup is made across the Akan-speaking south, with variations by region and family, but the foundation is always the same: palm nuts, whole, boiled, pounded, and strained into a cream that forms the body of the soup.
Not palm oil. Palm nuts.
This distinction is the first and most important thing to understand about abenkwan. Palm oil is the fat extracted from the palm fruit. Palm nut cream is something different — it is the entire flesh of the fruit, processed into a thick, velvety liquid that is simultaneously richer, slightly more bitter, and more complex than palm oil alone. The colour is a deeper orange-red. The texture is closer to a loose cream of tomato soup than to any broth. You cannot make abenkwan with palm oil. You can make a palm-oil-based stew, and it will be fine, but it will not be this.
On Canned Versus Fresh
In the diaspora, fresh palm nuts are not always available. Trofai and Ayam brand canned palm nut cream are the realistic options for most diaspora cooks, and they work. Use them without apology. The resulting soup will be excellent.
If you want to reinforce the flavour of canned cream — which is slightly flatter than fresh — add two tablespoons of good fresh palm oil to the pot when you start cooking. This adds back some of the freshness and lifts the colour.
If you are in Ghana, or if you have access to fresh palm nuts through a West African market that stocks them: boil the palm nuts in a large pot until they are very soft, roughly 45 minutes to an hour. Drain, then pound in a large mortar in batches until the fibrous flesh separates from the kernels. Add warm water and work the flesh with your hands, squeezing and turning, until the cream releases into the water. Strain through a sieve or your fingers. What you are left with is fresh palm nut cream — richer, more complex, with a slight bitterness that is entirely its own. The fresh version has a texture that no canned product fully matches, but the canned version is not a failure. It is a practical compromise that produces excellent food.
The Protein
Abenkwan is most traditionally made with goat — bone-in, mandatory. The marrow from the bones is part of the flavour; it dissolves slowly into the soup and gives it a richness that boneless meat cannot produce. If you cannot get goat, bone-in beef works well. Chicken works. At funerals specifically, abenkwan is sometimes made with kokonte — a paste of fermented cassava — to feed guests who do not eat meat, and this version is served alongside the meat version, not as a substitute.
The crab variant is worth noting separately: abenkwan with whole crabs is a coastal Fante preparation, particularly associated with the fishing communities around Cape Coast and Elmina. If you are near a market with fresh or frozen crabs, this version is exceptional. The crab flavour fuses with the palm nut cream in a way that is genuinely different from the meat version — sweeter, more oceanic, and deeply satisfying.
Prekese: The Non-Negotiable
The seasoning base for abenkwan is tomatoes, onion, scotch bonnet — these are standard. What is not standard, and what you cannot omit, is prekese.
Prekese is the aidan fruit — also called aidan pods or, in Hausa, tetrapleura. It is a large, dark, irregularly shaped dried pod with a complex flavour: smoky, slightly anise-adjacent, earthy, with a depth that you will not find in any substitute. It looks like something from a herbalist's shelf. That is essentially what it is. It has been used in Ghanaian cooking for generations, specifically in palm nut soup and certain slow-cooked stews, because the long simmer is what releases its flavour into the broth.
Prekese is not difficult to source: West African grocery stores in the UK, US, and Canada stock it, often dried and pre-packaged. Online West African grocery suppliers carry it. Order a supply when you find it — it keeps well dried and you will want it for future batches.
Without prekese, you will have a palm nut soup. With it, you will have abenkwan. The difference is unmistakable.
The Full Recipe (Serves 6–8)
*Protein:* 1kg goat meat, bone-in, cut into pieces. Season with salt and white pepper.
*For the base:* 3 medium tomatoes, 1 large onion, 2 scotch bonnet peppers. Blend together.
*Palm nut cream:* 1 large tin Trofai palm nut cream (approximately 800ml), plus 2 tbsp fresh palm oil if using canned.
*Seasoning:* 1–2 pieces of prekese, 1 tsp ground uziza pepper (optional but good), salt to taste.
*For serving:* fufu, banku, or eba.
*Method:*
In a heavy pot, heat a little oil over medium-high heat. Add the seasoned goat meat and brown on all sides — about 10 minutes. This step builds flavour. Do not skip it.
Add the blended tomato-onion-scotch bonnet base. Stir through, reduce heat to medium, and cook for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the raw tomato smell is gone and the base has darkened slightly.
Add the palm nut cream, the palm oil if using, and enough water to bring the total liquid to roughly 1.5 litres. Add the prekese pieces. Stir to combine.
Bring to a boil, then reduce to a steady simmer. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, for 45 minutes to an hour. As the soup cooks, watch the surface: when the oil begins to float to the top and the broth turns glossy, the soup is ready. This is the Ghanaian test — the floating oil is the sign.
Taste and adjust salt. Remove the prekese before serving.
Serve with fufu, banku, or eba. Fufu is the traditional pairing — the starchy softness absorbs the soup without competing with it.
Abenkwan is a soup with social weight. When it appears at a gathering, something important is happening. Make it like that matters — because it does.