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| Guadeloupe
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| F°te
des CuisiniČres - Pointe-ö-Pitre,
Guadeloupe |
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Guadeloupe |
It's
6:30 AM and Guadeloupe's women cooks have gathered in the ancient
church for a private mass on the birthday of their chosen patron,
Saint Laurent, who was, they say, grillł at the stake. The CuisiniČres
pray together and sing, their alleluias echoing from the vaulted
ceiling. Bells ring from the steeple as trucks and motorcycles
begin to hum through the streets of Pointe-ö-Pitre. For the
next two days, the F°te des CuisiniČres will celebrate these
Creole cooks and the unique culinary tradition of Guadeloupe,
the butterfly-shaped island in the French West Indies that lies
almost equidistant between Florida and Venezuela. These women
are so expert at delighting the taste buds that they are known
as "the professionals of the mouth."In 1916, their mothers and
grandmothers, cooks of modest means, banded together to form
Cuistot Mutuel, an insurance association, to provide the medical
care and funerals that they could not afford. The cooks prepared
meals when members were sick, helped each other through family
emergencies, and arranged dignified funeral services. After
having seen shared so many difficulties, they yearned to see
each other on a more joyful occasion. So they created one: the
annual F°te de CuisiniČres. In 1917, ten cooks first dressed
in sumptuous costumes and attended the Saint Laurent mass, then
paraded through Point-ö-Pitre carrying their best dishes, which
they served at a great public feast. The F°te des CuisiniČres
has happened every year since, no matter what. Viviane Madacombe,
the current President, laughs about the 1948 F°te: "It was hurricane
season and there was a high alert, meaning everyone was supposed
to stay home. The cooks were dressed in red. When they paraded,
all their dresses were soaked by the torrential rain. Their
white petticoats, even their underwear, got wet---and pink!"
The public is invited to attend the next mass and The Church
of Saint Peter and Paul is jammed with 150 cooks, local residents
and tourists. The CuisiniČres place baskets of food near the
altar to be blessed, each one decorated with red ribbons that
match Saint Laurent's mantle. The ceremonial mass, which has
no communion, is a celebration of songs, prayers, laughter--and
applause that begins when the oldest CuisiniČre, 104, walks
down the center aisle to her seat. The cooks cluster together
on the front pews, a kaleidoscope of color. The choir rocks
the church with joyful songs. Alleluia, Ah-lay-lou-yah! The
cooks burst from the church carrying wicker market baskets trimmed
with clattering metal miniature saucepans, measuring cups, salt
shakers, colanders and milk cans. The baskets brim with fresh
fruit and vegetables, every arrangement more artful than the
one before. The women also carry theatrical Creole dishes that
they will serve at the five hour feast this afternoon: towers
of crayfish the size of lobsters, trays of mussels. Almost 200
restaurants on the island are owned by women cooks and chefs;
the parade affords a chance to flaunt their culinary expertise.
The CuisiniČres offer petit fours to the spectators who pack
the downtown sidewalks to cheer them on. The women cooks dance
through the city streets past the spice market and the fish
market where, on work days, they shop for the freshest local
ingredients. Finally, they stop at the gates of the Lycłe Carnot,
the prep school where diplomats, governing elite--and the first
black woman--have been educated. The school courtyard is full
of white tents that shade banquet tables set for 600. Helium
balloons will escape into the sky as soon as the clock strikes
noon. Strict protocol governs the sequence in which the CuisiniČres
and their guests enter the school. The image of Saint Laurent
is carried in first. Next, Madame Viviane Madacombe, the President
of the Cuistot Mutuel, starts up the steep steps, followed by
the Vice Presidents and member cooks, and finally, The President
and Prefect of the region, invited guests and the public, each
of whom have paid $25 for the privilege of sharing the fabulous
feast. Every ticket has been sold. Musicians have come from
France to play for the festival. Cooks from the neighboring
island, Marie Galante, have come to dance. The cooks sing the
CuisiniČre song while everyone sips Ti punch (sugar cane rum,
lemon and sugar) and nibbles hors d'oeuvres.The CuisiniČres
have converted classrooms into kitchens, and are preparing to
serve six different kinds of salad including shredded pumpkin.
They have prepared breads, curried chicken, Ouassous (crayfish),
codfish and rice, dombrłs (dumplings), sweet potato---and, for
dessert, clove ice cream. The final presentation will be the
piČce de rłsistance, Pain Doux, an 85th anniversary cake: dome
shaped with white icing drizzled into intricate, lacey patterns.
Entertainers wearing Creole costumes dance energetically, undeterred
by a surprise shower. There are speeches by the VIPs including
a member of parliament from Lyon France, the Mayor of Pointe-ö-Pitre
and the President of the Regional Counsel, who observes, "Creole
tradition has eternal value." Islands Magazine would agree,
having decreed that Guadeloupe's women cooks serve "what is
widely regarded as the best Creole cuisine in the Caribbean."In
between courses, there is dancing. One CuisiniČre moves like
a belly dancer, her hand on her stomach, gyrating and undulating.
Four CuisiniČres do a circle dance in the kitchen. One old CuisiniČre
dances through the tents carrying a live chicken; she sits on
men's laps, teases them, and kisses them on the lips amid yelling
and merriment. Under the trees, two CuisiniČres perform the
beguine while their cook friends clap together two mahogany
blocks, a book-shaped percussion instrument. A CuisiniČre-to-be,
about six, carries her baby brother to dance. The youngest child
wearing a CuisiniČre costume is about three; she nestles in
her father's arms while he dances. Some CuisiniČres dance without
leaving their chairs, waving their arms gleefully to the rhythm
of the music. In the corner of the schoolyard, the image of
Saint Laurent watches silently. Surely he would do a little
jig if he could.I begin to understand the link between Creole
cuisine and Guadeloupe's history before--and after--Christopher
Columbus landed here in November 1493 seeking fresh water, lured
by the sight of waterfalls that tumble from the high peaks in
the island's rain forest. The food legacy of the indigenous
people, the Arawak and Caribbean Indians, included jellied apple
and guava, cassava (manioc bread) and barbecue style cooking,
as well as many dishes made with rooster-tail-conch, snails,
oysters, and shellfish. The Spanish brought matłtł (which is
a variation of paella and jambalaya) and a style of preparing
land crabs that originated in Galicia, Spain. The English contributed
tortoise soup and punch.The French who settled in Guadeloupe
in 1633 (the archipelago is now one of 96 departments of France),
donated Ouassous (crayfish), Court Bouillon and Pain Doux, the
lacey anniversary cakes served at the 85th Fete des CuisiniČres.
Dutch Jews, who took refuge here from Brazil in 1634, introduced
blaff (which gets its name from the sound the fish makes when
it's dropped in boiling water) and dombrłs, dumplings. The Africans
who came to work on the sugar cane plantations brought accras
(crusty cod fritters that were named for Accra, the capital
of Ghana) and calalou (green vegetable soup) plus many other
delicacies. Guadeloupean slaves were emancipated in 1848 and
after that, sugar cane workers immigrated to Guadeloupe from
India and China, and brought with them, le colombo (curry) and
moltani (saffron soup). Ary Ebroin, author of a two volume epic
work, Art Culinaire CrČole d'Antilles Francais, writes:"Any
Creole dish holds the glamour of the past, the poetry of the
land and the sweetness of our most distant memories. It harmonizes
with the brightness of our sun and the splendor of our landscape." |
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