Ann's Blog
Late dispatch from Trinidad:
July 10, 2012:
A mother-in-law with
a fiery personality
Is it any wonder I love island markets when each visit promises a new taste? I’ve blogged before about how I try to buy something new and untried each time I go to market (most recently, about my discovery of gòspo), and I’m happy to report I managed to keep my success rate at 100% right through the end of our cruising season this year. (We’re now back in Toronto until next fall – Receta is once again waiting for us in Trinidad – but I’m still catching up on my island posts.) When we hit the St. George’s, Grenada market on our way south at the end of the season, I spotted a little heap of lime-like green fruits at one stand. They had pebbled skin and a nipple-like protruberance at one end.
“Grate the skin into cakes and breads,” I was told when I asked what they were. But I needed a name. It sounded like the market ladies were saying “belle gamut,” or “belle gabot,” and I assumed it was a Creole word: beautiful…something.
only the zest.
When we reached Trinidad, even though we were trying to empty the boat, I made two visits to the Saturday market in Port of Spain. I stopped at one of my favourite stands to buy a jar of tamarind chutney to take north with us, and I noticed something new: The jars, previously unmarked, now had fancy printed labels. And one was ID’ed as “Mother in Law.” It looked like a chunky salsa.
“Why’s it called Mother in Law?” I asked. “Because it’s hot like a mother in law,” came the answer. That would be “hot” in the sense of a fiery personality, a blistering tongue. I read the ingredients on the label: pepper – which, in Trinidad, means hot fresh Congo peppers – was first on the list. Of course I bought a jar.
the Trini food with the most colorful name (it's Trini for "burst-up-shirt",
because that's what it looks like). Then I met Mother in Law.
Funny how when you’re introduced to something, you then begin to see it everywhere. A couple of nights later, Steve and I were wandering among the evening food stalls at the Savannah – he had refused to leave Trinidad without having a Guinness-and-barbadine smoothie, but that’s another story – and we spotted a table with Mother in Law. This label was more specific: Instead of merely “vegetables,” it listed carrot, onion, and caraillie – a cucumber-like fruit also known as bitter melon. Great, a mother in law who’s both incendiary and bitter. Of course we bought a jar.
Home in Toronto, I opened this second jar. The tiniest taste had me gasping – it was throat-searing, eyes tearing hot. I never want to meet the mother in law that inspired this recipe.
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Magnificent! Bergamot…I’m so jealous. And leave me laughing.
After reading your books we found ourselves in St George’s market on Sat morning. A cruise ship had come into port so the “Crazy” level was through the roof. Excitement all around. We were determined to by something we’ve never seen before. I don’t remember what is was; some sort of ground vegetable but what I do remember is only having a $50 bill for something that cost less than $5. The woman said she didn’t have change but could go see a friend to help us. We let her disappear into the crowd with $50 to seek change. We never would have done this without first reading your books. Shortly thereafter the woman returned with change and wished us a blessed day. We paid it forward by buying spice necklaces and other items from many vendors and slipping some money to the homeless. You work is much more than a ship’s log or cookbook. It’s a bible. Keep it up – spread the peace love and understanding.
Ann, Got those limes once here in the market, they did com from Grenada, I actually found that they smelled and tasted like Kaffir limes! Interesting eh?