School for Wayward Chefs...

February 5, 2006

I spent the day today cooking in the kitchen with Vee (Veronica), Quembe’s sister. Quembe woke up the boat at 6 a.m. so that he and Captain could go play soccer. They were set to begin by 6:30 a.m. because by 9 a.m. it’s too hot… We rode the dinghy ashore and walked to the soccer field where I left the boys and took a taxi up to Vee’s house. She said she woke up early on Sundays to cook – but I think I startled her when I knocked on her door at 7:15 a.m., giddy with anticipation…

Vee has a very warm and gracious personality and she looked so cute when I arrived; her hair in three pigtails, pajamas and glasses on. With a big smile and in her thick island accent she welcomed me into her home. We chatted and made small talk and all the while she was squeezing fresh fruit into a pitcher; Caribbean lemons (nothing like the lemons we are used to, these have rough, pale green flesh and a fragrant lemon and floral smell), fresh grapefruit, Caribbean oranges (again, totally different than navel or juice oranges), and limes. She then added water, bitters and sugar which made for an amazing elixir. We drank some, talked more and set to cooking…

Vee had a pot going on the stove with boiling water into which she poured a bag of flowers, which she called “sorrel”, and fresh ginger and clove. Like everything I’m finding in the Caribbean, what they call “sorrel” is nothing like the sorrel I’ve seen in the states which is a leafy herb. She showed me the plant in her yard, a branchy shrub with very few leaves and bright red tubular flowers. Once the brew had boiled and cooled we added sugar, strained and chilled it; another amazing drink tasting very similar to hibiscus tea but which is called sorrel juice.

She set into bread making like a pro, pulling a giant bowl from her cupboard and adding a large amount of brown sugar, copious amounts of yeast, pounds of white and wheat flour, condensed milk (fresh isn’t available on the island) and vegetable oil – nothing measured - and within a few minutes was kneading a mammoth ball of dough. I was fully impressed. She threw a towel on top and set it aside to rise.

Aromas began to fill the kitchen; breadfruit boiled in a pot for breadfruit salad; plantains boiled for a gratin; a mixer worked the batter for a rum cake; cornbread baked in the oven. Vee was seasoning some spare ribs (which she had hacked up outside with a giant machete) with a green marinade which she referred to just as seasonin’. It smelled divine. When I asked her what was in it she said it was made from something called “tikki thyme”, then she took me to her garden and showed the plant to me; a large succulent with juicy, fuzzy, silver-dollar sized, incredibly fragrant leaves. She told me that she would mix up a batch for me before I left that afternoon. I couldn’t wait!

Around noon the boys came back from soccer; Captain, Quembe, Clem, Otis (Vee’s son), Turkey (everyone has nicknames here) and more. Vee and I rushed to finish up lunch; we mixed up the breadfruit salad with an egg, carrots and green beans and with a mayonnaise based salad dressing just like potato salad in the states. The spareribs stewed in the oven with the seasonin’ and some jerk barbeque sauce that Vee’s sister had brought her from Trinidad; cornbread cooled on a rack…

I had asked Vee about a vegetable that I had seen in the marketplace. It had a pale green, wrinkly skin and had a crease down the middle like a peach, only much deeper. She called it Christophine and pulled one out of her fridge. As she peeled it she kept dipping it in fresh water, explaining to me that the skin releases a substance that will make your hands break out in a rash so you have to rinse it constantly while peeling it. Once peeled, she sliced a piece off for me. It was crunchy and tasted had the taste and texture of the core of a stalk of broccoli, or a cross between a cucumber and celery. It’s eaten raw in salads, steamed, roasted or mashed with ginger and coconut milk. Vee put some in the salad and some in a pot with other mixed vegetables to steam.

We set up the counter with plates and silverware and laid out the food for all who stopped by (the crowd was growing). Vee’s whole wheat bread was absolutely perfect in the texture, consistency and taste and surprisingly not sweet considering how much sugar she had put into the batter. I was really amazed at her skill with the bread making. She whipped up four loaves of bread like it was nothing; then she gave one to me, gave two to friends and kept one for herself. She says that she makes bread every Wednesday and Sunday, and always makes some for friends…

I never saw any prepackaged bread on Bequia. Everywhere you went, even the grocery store, the breads were homemade and of all the breads that I tried, Vee’s was definitely the best…

Well satiated from our venerable feast, we sat out in the backyard, in the hot Caribbean sun, told stories and drank ice-cold Harroun’s, the local beer. Vee told me to pick a large handful of the Tikki Thyme, I did but it wasn’t enough so she had me go pick more, and more, and more… She was out of garlic and onions so she gave me the recipe for making the “seasoning” myself. I’ve now noticed is in every market in the Grenadines – green bottles simply labeled “seasoning” is sold everywhere and everyone down here knows what that means…

Later in the evening the Captain, Quembe, Clem, “White Boy” (another nickname, another cousin of Quembe’s) and myself headed back to the boat loaded down with gifts from Vee – tikki thyme, fresh bread, charcoal roasted breadfruit, rum cake, a bottle of sorrel juice, roasted cumin seeds from Trinidad, hot peppers from Vee’s yard, etc. On the way we stopped by Rush Hour where Clem grabbed a bottle of a white milky looking liquid that he calls “Okra Punch”…

Back on the boat I blended up my seasoning with the tikki thyme, onions, garlic and salt. A lengthy debate ensued between Quembe, Clem and “White Boy” as to whether to add ginger or other spices to the seasoning (Vee adds ginger, clove and chives). The final verdict was to leave the seasoning as simple as possible because you can always add those other ingredients when you’re cooking something specific – but you may not always want those other spices. So, I blended up my seasoning and passed it around for the men’s approval – they all smelled and tasted it and in unison agreed that it was “right on target”.

Clem poured glasses of the okra punch for us all. It was thick, white and milky, slightly sweet and hinted of nutmeg – reminding me a bit of eggnog in taste and texture. It didn’t contain any alcohol, but certainly wiped away the effects of that days drinking. We all got a second a wind from the okra punch – I found that it left me feeling relaxed and awake. I tried to pry the recipe from Clem, to no avail… But it seems that each island in the Caribbean has some sort of elixir that is known for certain beneficial effects…

All in all, an amazing day.