Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts

Friday, December 11, 2009

When You Go Farin, Pack Yuh Granny into Yuh Suitcase


Pack it like you loading truck!!


For my non-Caribbean readers, just take your time and read aloud... usually, the word is as it sounds... :)

I was feeling a lickle homesick... and mi did put up a lickle piece of saltfish for such a time as this. So what me do? Mi grab the dutchie, hot up some oil, rub up some flour, grab nedda pot, bwile di saltfish, cut up some onion, garlic, skellion, tomatis, and cook dem up, pick up the saltfish and dash it in, stur it up, and add some nice fresh crunchy cabbage, knead mi dough, roll mi dumpling, put dem inna di hat ile, and tun dem when dem golden and cripsy pon si outside, and done cook, dish out the food.... and wait.

"MMMMMMMMMMMNNNN," hubby start moan. Me start moan likkle bit after.

All who did feel like dem too nice to with travel with saltfish and dutchpot (me) dash way dem dere false pride as soon as you realise say some tings just dont cook the same way into farin pot. And yes Dutch Ovens may be bought a farin, but I swear, the food taste sweeter if is a hand me down dutchie from a family member who asways cook up some nice soul food and mek yuh hide and lick yuh finger.

The other night me mek some sorrel tea and when Hubby taste it, him say all this want is likkle rum fi be real sorrel. That's right.. mi come with pimento too!

Missis, you can tek di Jamaican out of Jamaica but you cyaan tek di Jamaican outa she.

Miss Modda from Stewarton Mocho, (mi maternal granny) used to make mi fry dumpling and cabbage and saltfish fi breakfast ... and this morning... I went right back to the 6 year old girl whose eyes get wide with glee when she see seh grandma cooking just for me!!!! All mi need now is the fresh peppermint tea from di bush outside the kitchen and the nice sweet Mocho air. Wha go done? Rain a fall inna Dubai!

Monday, November 30, 2009

Prunes and raisins were not created equal

So last night while chatting to Imelda on Skype, my doorbell rings at 11:30. I was not expecting anyone. ESC was not due home for another hour and I had just almost perfected my all natural moisturizing hair spray and I went to town. My hair was wrapped in a plastic bag covered with my silk scarf and I was parading in undergarments. I looked through the peephole. It was my dearly beloved husband!

Home early- a rare surprise. Slow day. Wanting to spend some QT with his wife. He went to the shower and Imelda and I chatted on. We haven't been having our regular conversations and were getting up to speed. GrannyPeg heard the news of Dubai's debt payment default and was worried about her granddaughter over here in foreign Arabia. The news had reached Jamaica.

The conversation ended prematurely- a regular thing with internet chats over my limited broadband speed. I took the cheapest package. Frugal is my middle name. It rhymes with Practical.

So ESC comes out of his shower, intending to fix his flat bicycle tyre and seduce his wife to an early sign off.

Then the prunes started talking.

I was not comfortable with the way my body was feeling and so I picked up a few prunes on my supermarket run last night. They were really tasty. I had them all. Eleven prunes. I dont eat prunes normally because I never really cared for them. But I wanted to feel like my old efficient self again and they really did taste good this time. Maybe its because they didn't have to travel so far and so long to get to me in the west.. they were much tastier here, having come from the region.

Then the prunes started to sing.

ESC fixed his bike, warmed up some oxtail, unpacked the groceries and waited for me to join him.

The prunes started to dance. One piece of drum knocking and chanting and carrying on.

There endeth the reading of this scripture. ESC was forced to go to bed without me while I was locked up in the bathroom reading "The Poisonwood Bible" as my body found renewed efficiency.
 
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