Childhood Adventures From An American Born Trinidadian

Sunday Lunch

Early Sunday morning walks to the market to get a fresh “kill” chicken, plucked, yet warm having lived moments before. The smell of garlic, chive, and Spanish thyme as sugar bubbles to a slight smoke and chicken browned. Hands grating coconut after being busted on the back of freshly swept steps. Pigeon peas freshly shucked and picked free of hidden worms, rice washed until the water runs clean as coconut milk is strained into the pot.

Simmering with the aromas of pimento and scotch bonnet as dasheen bush is peeled and okra sliced. Plantain fries as a zaboka is sprinkled with salt and pepper. A tin is opened and a pitcher filled with water as sugar and a dash of bitters tints the color of your favorite grapefruit juice. Happy kids munching on rice cakes, eyeing the fudge, anxiously awaiting that full plate and a glass filled with jagged chunks of ice. It’s lunchtime on a Sunday in Siparia!

No matter they household, Sunday lunch is always when many of our favorites grace the table and snacks are enjoyed in abundance. If you enjoyed this short story, drop a comment and let me know. Don’t forget to share the love~Nyri

The Unnerved Traveler

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