Foodie's day out

How about a buss up shut for lunch?” I had flown 30 hours over seas, oceans and continents into Port of Spain (Trinidad), and a question plonked on my lunch plate. Famished.

That is what I was. In a typical Trini drawl, a ‘busted shirt’ turns into ‘buss up shut’. But who eats a busted shirt for lunch? Perhaps I looked a tad fatigued, perhaps a dark circle forming under my eyes, but I sure did not look so emaciated that I could stuff my stomach with a frayed shirt. I’d rather die hungry. Or jump into the Caribbean Sea for salt water.

Say that again?

Kim Ambrose, involved in the field of tourism, was smiling in the crisp Trini air. “Perhaps a doubles. Or a cow heel. A pig’s tail. A phoulorie. Bake & Shark,” he was rattling names off a menu and I was dropping jaws in the capital of Trinidad and Tobago.

In the organic Green Market, a name rang nostalgia. Phoulorie. I had often heard Ma utter it in her dulcet tone. Dumplings made of lentils, fried and simmered in yogurt/gram flour batter. A typical Sunday lunch served with rice. But nearly 14,000 km away from home, phoulorie was an unexpected treat. A woman with her head covered and a son as an assistant were deep frying lentil dumplings served with chilli sauce, a sauce so hot that it could light a fire in the pit of the stomach.

A Bihari dish on the menu is no surprise — in late 19th century, several Biharis spent months on the sea to find livelihood as indentured labourers in the sugarcane fields of Trinidad. Slavery has been forgotten and sugarcane fields lie fallow, but the Bihari  influence on Trini cuisine is still being rustled in kitchens.

Phoulorie was easy to decipher off the menu but the ‘busted shirt’ still intrigued me. Ambrose took what looked like a large paratha, tore it into pieces and chuckled: “This is a buss up shut.” Pray, why the name? Because the tender, torn white flour paratha resembles a torn or tattered shirt. No one knows who coined the term. Whoever did had a wicked funny bone!

Remember, when in Trinidad, speak like a local. Never ask for busted shirt. Say ‘buss up shut’. Pick that essential drawl.

Not merely Bihari, the cuisine of the  twin islands of Trinidad & Tobago is a melting pot of Creole, African, Caribbean, European, Chinese and Lebanese culinary influences. Some sailed in, invaded and ruled; others sailed in to work. Everyone bringing along their culinary preferences and lending this Caribbean island an unparalleled  culinary delight.
Do not get surprised if the mango chow has no Chinese noodles in it. This chow is julienned near-ripe mango mixed with finely chopped garlic, lime juice, salt, and chilli. Throw in diced pineapple, if you please. A side dish, mango chow is a summer staple. “Hot in, hot out,” Ambrose explains in Trini-speak.

Drive around Port of Spain and you’ll find more Chinese restaurants than local eateries. And keep an eye out for People’s cow heel soup. A thick, gelatinous soup made by simmering cow’s heel overnight in a crock pot, with a dash of potatoes, carrots and herbs including chandon beri, a distant cousin of cilantro.

An early start

A Trini begins his day with ladles of cow heel soup or a doubles, a local dish comprising fried bread topped with chickpea curry, mango sauce and tamarind chutney. Doubles might not be on restaurant menu — the eateries open very early and vanish as soon as the day’s takeaway is over.

If you are flying out of Port of Spain airport early, step into the food court and slurp on doubles. Get ready to get your hands dirty — doubles are served on a sheet of paper. No porcelain here.

Porcelain and traditional meld in Native Abode, a Tobago homestay where the family serves traditional breakfast in style. In the orchard, the air is heavy with the whiff of ripe mango. It’s where brown chikoos hang from the boughs like a bunch of mischievous kids, where fish is deep fried, pumpkin is chopped and turned into dainty salad, and chocolate tea is made out of balls of chocolate cooked with nutmeg and vanilla. The tea might leave you tipsy — there’s a good ounce of sugarcane dark rum in the cuppa.

In Trinidad and Tobago, there’s a food ritual. Liming with the locals. Yes, lime. This is no whitewash lime or the citrusy lime. This liming is merriment, with pints of beer and boxes of scrumptious food. And add to it peppy music. The zing of a typical Trini!

Liming is another word for hanging out. A picnic with alcohol. One can lime in a shack, in one’s backyard, or in Ariapita Avenue, the capital’s night-club strip. But lime you must, like the locals of Trinidad and Tobago, with joy in the heart, song on the lips, spring in the foot and beer in the hand.

Must-eats

Cow heel soup: A thick soup made of cow heel, potatoes and herbs.
Buss up shut: Flatbread torn into smaller bits.
Doubles: Fried flat bread topped with chickpea curry, mango/tamarind sauce.
Pig’s tail: Barbecued pig’s tail.
Mango chow: Julienned near-ripe mangoes with  lime juice, garlic, salt and chilli.
Chokha: Roasted eggplant or tomato mash.
Bake & Shark: Shark fillets served in puffed white-flour bread called bake.
Cassava pie: Baked, cheesy pie of diced cassava.

Where to eat

Port of Spain: Town; Chaud; Green Market; Doubles; ‘roti’ & ‘aloo’ pie at the airport food court.

Tobago: Native Abode, Kalinas, Sea Horse Inn Restaurant, Cafe Havana.