Island Food |
The grocery stores here, well they ain't like City Market, I can tell you that. Some of this is because I live in a more rural part of the island; some of it is because this isn't America and things don't have to be the biggest and the best in order to survive. Often there's no sign on the establishment to indicate a store. They're small, have crude wooden shelves, and only sell dry goods. A larger store will carry meat and produce, but if you want fruits and vegetables at a reasonable price, you have to go to the market. Here, market is every Saturday from about 5am to noon. |
Foods Available at Market
Fruit | Vegetables |
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"Provisions" - these are staple root crops that a great deal of the population lives on. Also called "ground provisions". | |
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As you can see, there's a great variety of fresh food available, and available year round. If you eat like a Dominican or a vegetarian, you can live for very little money. If you eat like an American, you're going to pay for it. Canned goods, such as tuna and tomato sauce, prepackaged mixes and meals, and beef are all expensive. Chicken is imported from the states - don't ask me why, because there are chickens running all OVER this island. Note - since writing this, I asked a Dominican why they don't eat their chickens; he said that they have a pretty weird taste. He likes the "fake chicken" from the store better. In the grocery stores you'll find more European imports than any other. Canned meats from Scandinavia, British products of all kinds, noodles and mixes from China. The fun part is that often the directions are in the language of the country of origin.... Quality is sometimes, well, poor. Pasta for some reason is terrible here. It's expensive and falls apart by the time it's cooked. I just buy the chinese egg noodles - they're better and cheaper. After a while one just learns to adapt and then realizes that living here is an enjoyable adventure, at least for a spoiled American. |
What You Can Find in a Restaurant
rice and peas
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goat water
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crapaud or mountain chicken
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roti
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chicken and rice
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and of course seafood
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I'm not quite sure if it's because it's the start of the rainy season or perhaps just because I'm now in the market for fish, but it seems that the once-ubiquitous fish trucks have been avoiding the area around Douglas Guest House. I even gave a student friend of mine living near the regular fishmonger haunt 5 EC to buy some for me, but strangely, he hasn't seen them for over a week and a half now. So when I heard the familiar conch shell blast heralding fish for sale nearby during my less-than-enchanting study of the Streptococci, I jumped at the chance. Dashing down the stairs with my little black grocery bag flapping after me, I desperately rushed to find the elusive fish truck before it vanished in the tropical night. Fortunately the echos had not deceived me and I spotted the truck just around the corner. As I approached, my heart quailed slightly - they were only offering the nearly sardine-size fish locally known as something unpronounceable (at least by me) that starts with "m". I had been hoping for a nice familiar slab of tuna, but my longing for fish goaded me to brave these unknown piscids. My pound of little fishes slid into my bag, and after I paid my 5 EC, I triumphantly marched back to my kitchen, plopped my bag on the counter next to the sink, looked in, and started laughing. Just what on earth did I think I was going to do with these things? My grandpa taught me how to clean fish, that was no problem, but I've only had experience cooking trout and tuna. What culinary secrets concerning these fish was I ignorant of? There were no answers forthcoming from the twenty-eight large pairs of impassionate eyes on fourteen little fish gazing from the depths of the black plastic. Well, I figured a Colorado girl could handle just about anything these puny fish could challenge her with, so I picked up my trusty Leatherman and my first fish. Before slashing and cleaning, however, I looked at the fish, noting the iridescence glistening on its flanks, and wondered if I had been diving with this fish last weekend... his little expression looking vaguely familiar... and then I set all sentimentality aside and set to work. A fish is a fish after all. Halfway through my second fish, I heard one of the girls who works in the restaurant downstairs rummaging around in the deep freeze next to my kitchen, so I poked my head around the corner and asked her if there was any special way to cook the little fish I held dripping in my hand. She looked at me quizzically and figured she'd better start with the basics. "Well, you have to take out what's inside..." I smiled. "Yes, I know that much. How do I cook them?" Another confused look. "You just put seasoning on it and cook it..." ...and she trailed off, as though it was utterly foreign to her that someone, even an American, didn't know how to cook fish. Perhaps I was secretly longing to be initiated into a special sisterhood of Caribbean cookery, but alas, it was not to be. I decided to be more specific and ask if baking was appropriate and got confirmation that it was. I was about to ask her if I was supposed to leave the heads on but thought better of it and decided to remove them no matter what the sisterhood said. I am a spoiled American after all. It doesn't bother me to see that empty expression of resignation while I'm cleaning the things, but seeing that cloudy orb come out of the oven... no there are some things that take away even my enjoyment of eating. At last the dirty deed was done, and I was left with fourteen nicely cleaned fish on my counter. And a plateful of twenty-eight eyes staring from fourteen now-severed fish heads amongst the scant mounds of fish innards. Before sliding my accusers into the trash (with the slim hope that the neighborhood cats wouldn't decide to resurrect them tonight via my balcony), I contemplated the wide-eyed expression of the fish with whom I may have swum one more time. They were still keeping their culinary secrets. I wrapped their corresponding bodies to freeze for later, and went back to the Streptococci. |