I have to admit it is scary watching these young men push the coconut into the machines with their hands! 

Trinidad & Tobago may only be 7 miles off the coast of Venezuela but the country that's had an outsize influence on its food is India. Foodways historian Ramin Ganeshram explains how that came to be.
​The best part of the childhood summers I spent on my father's home island of Trinidad was trailing behind him on his visits to the market to shop for his older sisters. All around us, tables were laden with the riotous hues of red Scotch bonnet peppers, orange pumpkins and mangoes, yellow bananas, rich purple eggplant, green long beans—called by their Hindi name, bodi—bitter melon, spinach and other edible leaves. Sometimes the colors were so bright they hurt your eyes.
My favorite stop, though, was one particular spice stand—I've long forgot­ten the name, it was 40 years ago, after all—with its huge barrels of spices: carda­mom, turmeric, cinnamon, cumin. The owners, three brothers of East Indian de­scent, sold their wares with a singularly Trinidadian marketing technique—by freestyling calypsos (storytelling songs native to the island) about the superior­ity of their spices. In those days, many folks were still mixing their own curry— a key ingredient in much of the island's cuisine. The brothers had their own spe­cial blend, a recipe that had been a part of their family since their ancestors first arrived in Trinidad as indentured labor­ers in the 19th century. Their story is similar to my family's. At least three of my father's grand­parents traveled from Punjab, India, to Trinidad in the 1850s. As bonded field workers, they farmed sugar and cocoa fields for the English who, needing an­ other cheap source of labor following the end of slavery in their colonies, looked to other brown nations like India and China. Along with half a million others, theirs was a story of British imperial hegemony, which moved Indian people across the globe as indentured laborers to places like Trinidad and Guyana in the Western Hemisphere and Fiji and Mauritius in the Southern Hemisphere. In the Caribbean, my Indian ancestors took over where slavery left off.
My great­-grandparents' immigration was a forced one, the details of which are murky. Poverty, starvation, oppres­sion and deception all surely played a part. Once they arrived in Trinidad, they suffered the brutality of the plantation system. Still, they found ways to sustain their heritage by retaining their languages (which became pidginized in later generations), wearing native clothes and worshiping their gods.


India remained a distant memory kept alive by the foods they eked out despite desperate poverty. Curry be­came a stand-­in for Indian­ness at large. Ingredients like rice, turmeric, carda­mom, yogurt and ghee, along with typi­cal Indian cooking techniques, melded with local produce in new ways.
Today, nearly half of the population on the island claims Indian roots. In both its people and its cuisine, Trinidad is an organic fusion. Here, the flavors from the subcontinent have married with those from West Africa, China and Syria and of the Indigenous people. Curry is still a foundational flavor, and everything from fruits and vegetables to meat, fish and wild game gets equal opportunity in the curry pot.
For most Trinidadians, Indian culture is simply part and parcel of the nation. Colette Cyrus Burnett, a chef and CEO of Global Food Warrior, which strives to make local food systems more affordable and accessible, grew up in Chaguanas, an area in central Trinidad that is known for its strong Indian roots. Although largely Afro­Caribbean, she recognizes Trinidad­Indian food as core to the national identity. "We never saw any distinction in our kitchen. It was never 'East Indian' food to us," she says. "It is just home food, a part of our collective culture that warms our hearts and bellies." 
And so it is for me. When I cook a dish that I learned from my father, I'm transported back to those summers on Trinidad. The tangy tamarind sauce spooned over fish, the aroma of curry in doubles and the smoky flavor of roasted eggplant, all speak to this diverse nation's deliciously complex history.
(Source: Eating well, Ramin GaneshramFebruary 18, 2022)

​Chris De La Rosa, Tosin Ayeronwi of Ottawa among Canadian creators chosen for the fund. Chris De La Rosa wants you to know that you can make Caribbean food no matter where you are in the world. 
"It's important for me to put all food and all culinary culture in a positive light," he said. "And not just that, but in a niche that breaks it down so anyone can make it no matter where in the world they're based." 
The Hamilton-based creator does all that and more on his channel, CaribbeanPot — which is shy of 800,000 subscribers. His videos have also garnered a combined total of 90 million views.
De La Rosa's channel is the YouTube counterpart of CaribbeanPot.com, a blog he started as a way to collect recipes for his kids to make someday and document the rich cuisine he enjoyed while growing up.  
Now, the channel is part of #YouTubeBlack Voices class of 2022, where creators on the site receive funding and support to help grow and enhance their YouTube channels. 
YouTube announced the program in a 2020 blog post that outlined a multi-year, $100-million fund to amplify and lift Black voices and ideas. 
De La Rosa is one of five Canadian creators — including Tosin Ayeronwi of Ottawa — who have been chosen for the fund. 
With additional funding, he plans to tell the bigger stories behind the food he makes. 
"I want to tell the stories further of not just the food, but where the food comes from. I want to tell that story as well. I don't want to always be in the kitchen." 

Many of the meals De La Rosa knows and grew up with aren't documented, and they don't have precise measurements. 
"I had to create everything from scratch," he said, "and I wanted it to be very easy for them to recreate the flavours that they enjoyed growing up, even right here in Canada." 

Growing up in Trinidad, he said, everyone knew how to cook — whether you were a boy or girl. 
"My parents have two boys and two girls, and they never assigned gender roles back then as would be normal in the Caribbean and many other places," he said. 
"My mom always wanted her sons, especially her boys, to be independent and do their own thing." 
When he was in his mid-teens, De La Rosa immigrated to Canada, where he lived with his aunt and cousins in Hamilton.
Inspiring other Black creators After he was required to make some of the meals, he realized he wanted to have a taste of home again more than ever before.
"When [...] it's -20 degrees outside, it's overcast, it's snowing, you want to feel like you're part of the Caribbean again." 
When it comes to reaching out to other Black creators on YouTube, De La Rosa finds his inspiration is helpful to those creating similar content.
"If you look now, you'll find 15, 20, 30, 40 different channels with the same sort of topic that I've been doing since 2009. And if you look closely at the way they present their work, the way they edit, the way they shoot, the way they speak on camera, you will see elements of my channel on those.
"I have personally reached out to a lot of these other YouTubers, these Black YouTubers, Indian YouTubers — whatever race they are, and I say, 'Can I help, how can I help? I've been doing this for so long.'" 
'The space has room for everyone'Although what they do can come across as copying the content that he creates, De La Rosa reminds himself the creative space of YouTube and other online platforms is for everyone. 
"The space has room for everyone," he said. "It's not a competition." 
​(Source: CBC News, Feb 8, 2022)

From Tar Hams to Salt Butter
...PoS grocery takes shoppers back to old-time days
Credit to Author : Charles Kong Soo
Sing Chong Supermarket on Charlotte Street, Port-of-Spain, is a modern supermarket, but shoppers can feel as if they stepped through a time warp to the old-time days of Chinese shopkeepers and parlours on the village corner.In one section of the supermarket you can find loose salt butter, table margarine, lard and peanut butter packed neatly in white wrapping paper just like in "Mr Chin's" shop from a bygone era.
The culinary treasure that attracts foodies and tantalises the taste buds of the golden generation alike, however, is the tar ham hanging from the ceiling. This is the same type of ham granny and grandpa used to boil in a biscuit tin over a wood fire or pitch-oil stove in the backyard and sometimes baked after in a coalpot tin oven or mud oven.
Anthony Low, the supermarket's owner, said since his father, Johnson Achong Low opened Sing Chong's in the 1940s they were importing premium tar hams or soak and boil hams as they were also called.He said, "Since I was 14 years old and working with my father, in those days we were bringing in Darling Downs ham from Australia and Swift's ham from the US encased in tar."Tar and Darling Downs ham got expensive, and when Government banned ham importations in the '70s it became too prohibitive.
"When the market opened up in the '80s I began bringing in this brand, 'Piggy' ham every year."Low's son, Christopher, said he knew of the ham hanging from the supermarket's ceiling since he was small.He said when the distributor was no longer importing salt hams, the supermarket decided to source it for itself.Christopher said there were not many other supermarkets selling the traditional hams.
Low said not everyone had a fridge in the early days, that the ham didn't need refrigeration, and it could last for three years with just some loss in weight.He said even when it was cooked, the ham could be left outside covered and it wouldn't spoil.Low said people started using big pots to cook their hams in when they became available, and the unique smell given off by the ham cooking in the yard wafting in the open air could be detected by neighbours a great distance away.
He said he kept at least 12 hams for himself and boils one every month to share with his family, friends and employees, and it goes very fast.Low said a customer bought a soak and boil ham and returned it on Christmas eve 2012 "burnt like charcoal," asking him if he knew how to cook it.The man said his mother had died and she cooked the ham for his family every year when she was alive.He had never learned how to prepare the ham, and he had put it in the oven to bake.
Low gave the man the cooking instructions: soak the ham for three to four days, add lime or sugar, discard the water every day, boil for at least two hours until done, bake after if so desired, adding cloves and pine for a different flavour.He gave the man a replacement ham. The man returned to him after Boxing Day to say thanks as it came out "perfectly" like his mother's.Low's plan is to ask the manufacturers to place cooking instructions with the hams in the next shipment.
__________________________________________
According to Historian Angelo Bissessarsingh tar hams were made locally in the South-West peninsula from the '30s up to the early '50s
Source: Virtual Museum of TT, Dec 24, 2021

While parang music is being played in the background, Trinidadian kitchens will be busy making pastelles during the holiday season.
Pastelles are a Caribbean dish similar to tamales and are traditionally made at this time of the year, says Arielle Neils, executive chef with Kitchener, Ont.'s the Compass Group, including in her home.
"It's said that they are a very old dish coming from Spanish influence," Neils says of the Trinidadian version she loves to prepare. "Making them brings me back to being in the kitchen with my mother and grandmother at Christmas time."
Beef or chicken is sautéed with capers, olives, raisins and other aromatics, which are then stuffed into a pocket of corn flour dough and wrapped and steamed in a banana leaf.
"It's important to note that we use corn flour, not cornmeal," Neils said.
Grandmother taught her to cookShe has been making pastelles since she was seven years old in Chaguanas in central Trinidad, helping her grandmother, who was a chef and caterer.
"My grandmother was the first person who taught me to cook. She's still with us and represents the mix of cultures that is Trinidad," Neils says. "When I was 13 years old, my grandmother took a catering job for a huge number of pastelles. It took us two days to make them all. We worked very hard and they surprised me by getting me a cellphone when we were done."


Learning to cook at a grandmother's elbow is a common memory shared by many chefs. From a dough-making perspective, Neils learned the importance of touch and feel — how a successful pastelle dough must be pliant and malleable.
"My grandmother taught me to squeeze the dough and if a crack forms, it needs more liquid because it is too dry."
Typically eaten close to Christmas Day, pastelles seem to inspire people to assemble them much earlier, according to Neils.
"I was looking on Facebook in November and people have already started making and eating pastelles."
'Heart, passion and love' go into pastellesThe process isn't necessarily difficult, but there are several steps so Neils advises getting all your ingredients ready and waiting before starting to cook. While some cooks boil pastelles, she prefers to steam them for a better texture. 
She said you can omit the butter and meat in the ingredients and use lentils for vegan pastelles.
Neils recommends visiting Latin and West Indian grocery stores for supplies such as green seasoning and banana leaves.
"As for the Scotch bonnets, if you don't like too much heat, remove the seeds and membrane, or leave them out all together," she said. 
The tactile act of working the dough and folding it into banana leaves also stirs memories of childhood for Neils.
"Making pastelles, I start to feel warm inside. There is heart, passion and love that goes into making them," she said, adding it's important for her to pass along the tradition to her son.
"Pastelles … bring me fond memories of working in the kitchen with my mother and grandmother; they feed the soul and create happiness and fulfilment.
"They are the ultimate Christmas food in my culture."


Beef pastelles by chef Arielle NeilsIngredients
For the dough:

• 1 cup corn flour
  
• 2 tablespoons butter
  
• 1¼ cup water
  
• ¼ teaspoon sugar
  
• ¼ teaspoon salt
  
• ½ teaspoons beef bouillon cube
  

For the filling:

• 3 tablespoons green seasoning (available in West Indian food stores)
  
• ½ lb ground beef
  
• ¼  cup diced onions
  
• ¼ cup chopped pimento peppers
  
• ¼ cup diced celery (optional)
  
• 2 tablespoons chopped pimento-stuffed olives
  
• ¼ cup raisins
  
• 1 teaspoons capers
  
• ¼ cup sliced green onion 
  
• 2 sprigs chopped Italian parsley
  
• 1 teaspoon annatto paste
  
• 2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
  
• Salt
  
• Black pepper
  
• 6 pieces banana leaf measuring 9 inches by 9 inches
  
• Butcher's twine
  
• ¼ cup canola oil
  

Method:
Marinate ground beef with green seasoning and refrigerate, preferably overnight.
Add marinated ground beef to a hot pan and cook for six minutes or until meat is browned. 
Add onions, celery and garlic, sauté for three minutes, then add pimento peppers, olives, capers, Worcestershire, annatto, raisins, salt and pepper. Sauté until peppers and raisins have softened and any liquid has evaporated (about four to five minutes).
Turn off heat and add green onions and Italian parsley, then set aside to cool.
In a medium bowl add warm water and butter. In another medium bowl add corn flour, beef bouillon and sugar (pinch of salt and pepper is optional). 
Once butter is melted in water, begin adding the water mix little by little to the corn flour until dough comes together and is very soft.
Divide the dough into six roughly equal parts.
Wash and dry your hands and then rub your palms together with oil. 
Spoon the dough into your oiled hands and shape into a ball, one by one; they don't need to be perfect spheres.  
Cover the dough balls with a wet towel and set aside.
Add water to a pot or steamer, place on medium-high heat and allow water to come to a boil. A colander over a pot of boiling water also works well.
Cut seven pieces of banana leaf and use a brush to oil the flat side of the banana leaf.
Method for banana-leaf wrappers:
Ensure banana leaf is on a flat surface and place dough in the middle of the greased side of the banana leaf; cover with another piece of banana leaf, greased side down to touch the dough then press dough to open up (it doesn't have to be a perfect circle). If using a tortilla press, follow the same method and continue with all the dough balls. Feel free to stack them in the press.
Add cooked meat to the middle of the opened up pastelle dough.
Gently fold the leaves in two opposite sides, one at a time over the filling, then fold in the remaining two ends to enclose the pastelle.
If boiling, cut pieces of butcher's twine and tie around the pastelle in the banana leaves so they don't open when boiling. If steaming, skip this step as you can steam seam side down.
Steam or boil for 15 to 20 minutes then remove from heat and allow to cool for five minutes in a colander. 
Unfold, eat and enjoy!
These can be refrigerated for up to four days or frozen for up to three months then steamed or boiled as you go. If steaming before freezing, they can be reheated (two at a time) in a microwave with a small bowl of water beside them.
​Source: CBC News, Dec 11, 2021

Courtesy Newsday.