I grew up in Ontario eating pretty plain food, my mother was a meat, veg and potatoes kind of cook and we never had anything very unusual on the dinner table. Mom also worked in an office all day once her children were going to school, so time spent in the kitchen was limited. I had rarely watched her as she cooked, and had never cooked a meal myself until I arrived on Bequia in 1976.
A few years later my restaurant was in its infancy and I had a lot to learn about food preparation – it was a “do or die” situation! Mac and I had opened our pizzeria, but until our pans and other pizza-related equipment arrived we were offering baked goods only to our customers. Soon we would be offering lunch as well, and many friends were giving unsolicited advice when it came to the menu.
Many of our customers lived on boats in the harbor and liked foods I had either never heard of or didn’t care for myself. Yoghurt was one of them, I had tasted the stuff but didn’t like it. But hey, if yoghurt was what my customers wanted then yoghurt they would have. I asked a friend to teach me how to make it, and she arrived one morning bearing a big glass jar and some yoghurt culture. It wasn’t the most scientific of lessons but it worked. Just boil the milk (we used powdered milk), and when your finger can stand being stuck in the hot liquid for 3 second but burns at 4 seconds, add the culture and refrigerate when cool. I made a lot of yoghurt in those early days, serving it with fruit, putting it in banana bread and muffins, using it to top cheesecakes, it was pretty versatile! I never did grow to like it myself but the customers did and that’s what counted.
Another friend arrived one day with alfalfa and mung bean seeds, and suggested we serve them sprouted on sandwiches in lieu of lettuce. Lettuce was starting to make an appearance on the Island but was still a rarity, and sandwiches would taste nicer with healthy sprouts. Sprouts?? I had never heard of such a thing but was ready to give it a try! Mac got hold of some fine pieces of screen and secured them to the tops of big glass jars with elastic bands. He soaked the seeds at home overnight, then tilted the jars upside down over the dish draining rack. Each day the seeds would get rinsed a few times, and the resulting sprouts were delicious.
Pita bread was another request, and once again I was in total ignorance. I had never eaten pita bread and had no idea what it even looked like! The owner of the co-op bakery where Graham had worked in Canada was kind enough to show me how to make them. The pizza ovens were perfect for pita bread and we could use the same whole wheat dough we used for our brown bread. I watched as she rolled out perfect rounds on the well-floured counter, being very careful not to make creases as she rolled. She tossed them in the hot pizza oven, and to my amazement they filled immediately with hot air and puffed up! Once out of the oven they collapsed, but when cut in half one pita made two perfect pockets for sandwich fillings.
I was learning quickly. I felt like a big sponge at times as I absorbed new ideas but I was definitely making progress. Soon we would be open for lunch as well as breakfast, and maybe some day we would have pizza on the menu!