The faint smell of the wood burning oven, faintly drifted towards
my nostrils as to say “Wake up, Come See, what aunty is using me for, this
time. ”The customary yet enticing notes of the cedar planks and dried teak bark
tickled me, until I was compelled to get up. Groggily yawning and stretching, I
hesistantly crawled out of my bunk and drifted towards the source of this.
Don’t get me wrong, my aunty was the best cook, with a true Trinbagonian “Sweet
Hand” but I hated rising with the sun much-less for before the sun himself
wakes up. Upon reaching the heart of our home, I tip-toed so my bulging eyes
can satisfy their frantic desire to gaze upon my aunt’s concoction.
To my surprise, a buttered provision au gratin (dish that is baked
with a topping of seasoned breadcrumbs and cheese).
She sliced the boiled cassava, dasheen, yams, eddoes and sweet
potatoes while I layered the pan, alternating the colours in a clockwise
fashion.
The decadent liquid concoction was poured layer upon layer
on the provisions. I licked my lips as my tongue salivated. My taste buds
danced in excitement for a slab of this pie. I franticly grated sharp
cheddar cheese, because I needed to reduce the waiting period to savour even a
pinch of the crust. I mixed the cheese with bread crumbs and generously
sprinkled the top. My aunt loaded it into the oven as I tapped my foot in
anticipation. Tap,Tap,Tap and my stomach cinched and growled in unison. Finally
the moment I’ve been longing for. The crisp mat of golden cheese and crumbs
surfaces from the oven. Aunty watched me and grins, “Let me blow it for you,”
as she spooned a minute portion into my salivating cavity.
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