The Tastes of My Childhood

Are there tastes or flavours that carry you back to your childhood? It doesn’t matter if you still eat those foods not. Inspired by my meditation practice this morning, I journaled on the tastes of my childhood. Many of those things don’t taste the same to me now. There are several things that I can’t find in Prague, and that I no longer bother to seek out when I visit St. Lucia. But as I wrote about the tastes of my childhood this morning, I caught myself savouring the memory and automatically smiling.

The Smell of Coffee

My grandparents had one of those old, hand-cranked grinders, and they used it to make coffee everything morning. I loved the smell even though I found the taste revolting as a child. Sometimes, if I woke up early enough, around 5am, I got to go across the yard to the bakery to buy fresh loaves of bread. The reward was salted butter or bright orange (Anchor) cheese melted into the hot bread, To complete breakfast, I would usually pair it with a cup of Milo. Later that morning, I might have some mangoes before heading to school.

The Foods that Spring to Mind

When I stop and think, the first foods that come to mind are macaroni and cheese made in the oven, a regular appearance for lunch on Sundays; I love it with lentils. We had lentils, pigeon peas or black-eyed peas several days a week (I didn’t eat red or black beans). I remember those tiny fish, fried dry so that you can eat them whole, pound cake made fresh, Cheezies, blood pudding, custard apples, tamarind balls, gooseberry and cherry jam, golden apple, guava cheese, fudge, freshly roasted cashew nuts, homemade cocoa, coconut “tablet”, coconut patties, dumplings and peas, souse, boiled crayfish, roasted clams, boiled whelks, fried chicken, souse, chicken necks, caramel wafers, Icy, Juicy and Malta, cinnamon sugar ice lollies, soursop ice cream. We sometimes got milk fresh from the cow, but I much preferred Carnation evaporated milk or powdered milk.

Every two weeks, my grandfather would go to town to get his pay for the sale of his bananas. Those were treat days. Not only would I get a new book, but also an apple and maybe a KFC meal with biscuits and fried chicken.

Learning to Cook

Most of what I ate back then, we cooked at home, from scratch. I didn’t know you could get potatoes in a box, and we rarely bought canned items except for canned vegetables for potato salad, corned beef, and canned fish. We bought beef every Saturday from our neighbour who was also a family member. He butchered a cow on Saturdays and provided a chance for us to buy fresh meat and blood pudding. The chicken we ate often came from the store, but I also remember my grandmother catching a chicken from one of the many that roamed the yard. This is where I got my start in experimenting with food.

The first time I cooked lunch, I must have been 11 or 12. My grandparents were at their garden (farm) and I decided to have a meal ready for when they returned home. First, I seasoned the chicken with green seasoning she made herself, onion and other dried spices. Then, I made the gravy browning like I had seen my grandmother do, with a spoonful of sugar. I added onions and tomatoes before adding in the meat, with minimal water. I was so nervous. Every few minutes, I would lift the cover of the pot to check on the progress. When I noticed someone walking past our house, I asked her to come and check if the chicken looked alright. I don’t remember who it was; I know she was a few years older than me. My grandparents were not ones for compliments, but they seemed to appreciate my cooking. This was the start of many adventures in the kitchen.

Saturdays in the Kitchen

Saturdays were my favourite day. My grandparents would go to the garden and leave us at home. As the oldest one remaining at home, that made me the temporary queen of my world. I would cook and invite all my cousins and some of the neighbourhood children over to sample what I made. I remember homemade pizza, chow mein noodles with fried chicken, mango cheese. homemade tofu, cakes. Twice, I tried to make a meringue pie that never worked. I’ve since decided that the recipe must have been wrong 🙃.

Chasing New Tastes

I’ve since lost a lot of the adventurous spirit I had back then with cooking. We didn’t have the internet and so I had to come up with ideas or revise recipes from old books. I cooked by watching my grandmother cook and then playing around in the kitchen. I have the most fun cooking when I’m inspired by an idea but modify it in some way to suit my particular tastes. I’ve cooked off and on throughout the years, sometimes hosting small dinner parties and potlucks. But I haven’t done that in years.

My tastes have changed and I no longer eat or drink many of the things that I consider the tastes of my childhood. Sometimes, I feel like I’m chasing a new taste, a new flavour, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Perhaps experimenting in the kitchen again will help, if I can find my way back to that space.