Yemi Adelekan is a food writer and blogger who was a semi-finalist in the 2022 series of BBC TV’s Masterchef competition.

Every Saturday Yemi writes on the Stray Ferret about her love of the area’s food and shares cooking tips – please get in touch with her if you want her to review a restaurant, visit your farm, taste the produce you sell or even share a recipe.

I love researching food celebrations across the world and was excited about celebrating National Carrot Day on the 4th April.

The humble carrot may not strike most people as worthy of celebration, but on National Carrot Day, I found myself smiling at just how far this orange root has travelled with me - not just across kitchens, but across continents and memories.

In Nigeria, carrots are everywhere. They are the quiet heroes of many market stalls, especially in the North where they thrive in the drier climate. You’ll see them in perfectly arranged pyramids or meticulously aligned stacks on trays - a showcase of pride and precision by traders who understand the value of presentation. Often, they’re eaten raw, washed and nibbled on like a sweet, crunchy snack, especially when the sun is high and a refreshing bite is what you need.

As a child, I never thought much of carrots beyond their crunch. They were everyday vegetables - colourful guests in fried rice, and the occasional stir-fry. Sweet and earthy, yes, but never centre stage. That changed when I moved to the West Indies and tasted carrot cake for the first time in Nevis.

It was soft and surprisingly light, studded with plump raisins that I promptly picked out - my younger self had no desire for fruit interruptions in cake and my adult self still doesn’t care for raisins or sultanas in anything. But the warmth of the spices, the rich golden crumb, and the slight tang of the optional cream cheese frosting made me reconsider everything I thought I knew about carrots. In that first slice, the carrot was reborn - no longer a crunchy snack, but something elegant, indulgent, and comforting.

Over the years, I’ve developed my own version of that cake. It’s evolved with me and now, it tells a different story. I add toasted shredded coconut for texture and a whisper of the tropics. The spices are bold but balanced - cinnamon, of course, but also a touch of calabash nutmeg, which adds a delicate peppery warmth that’s uniquely West African. I brown the butter first, letting it toast gently until nutty and fragrant, and use brown sugar for depth - sometimes light golden, sometimes dark and treacly, depending on my mood.

Each ingredient brings a piece of my journey - the Nigerian coconut, the Nevisian inspiration, and the British baking know-how that I’ve picked up along the way. I like to think that cake isn’t just a dessert - it’s a memory you can taste.

But carrots aren’t just for baking.

One of my favourite savoury ways to celebrate carrots is to simmer them gently with orange juice, a good knob of butter, a drizzle of honey, and a whisper of cumin. The result is a dish that tastes and smells like sunshine. The orange juice brings brightness, the butter creates a shimmering glaze, and the cumin introduces a smoky warmth that wraps around the sweetness like a soft shawl. It’s simple, quick, and the kind of side dish that makes you close your eyes for a moment just to savour it.

Roasted carrots, onions blended with some stock easily turns into a delicious bowl of carrot. Soup. Season with turmeric, ginger and some curry powder and finish with a drizzle of thick coconut milk. Up the health benefits but adding roasted garlics.

Carrots, to me, are a reminder that even the most unassuming ingredients can hold power. Power to connect, to comfort, to transport you across oceans and time zones with a single bite. From market stalls in Northern Nigeria to a slice of cake in Nevis, and now to my Yorkshire kitchen where I blend these stories together - this root vegetable has never let me down.

So while National Carrot Day might not make headlines, it’s the perfect excuse to pause and honour this versatile gem. Whether raw and crunchy, glazed and warm, or baked into something sweet and spiced, carrots deserve their moment in the spotlight.

“Even the quietest ingredient can carry the loudest story - if only we take the time to listen.”

Today, why not look again at the carrots in your fridge? I know they are waiting to tell a story of their own. Steam or roast them. Glaze them. Grate them into a salad, cake or rice dish like the Afghan Pilaff. Whatever you do, let it be a little celebration of colour, flavour, memory and sunshine on a plate.