Search Results

Authors: Richard Price and Sally Price

[First paragraph]With the usual solemnity, it is once again our duty to announce the annual Caribbeanist Hall of Shame. As always, we list those books that, as of press time (January 1999), have not been reviewed because the scholars who agreed to the task have - despite reminder letters - neither provided a text nor relinquished the books so that they could be assigned to someone else. (Continuing the practice initiated in 1997, we indicate names with both initial and final letters, in an attempt to forestall false accusations and protect the reputations of the innocent.) And as in past years, we hope these paragraphs may serve as a kind of backlist "books received." We are pleased to report that the advent of email has helped make this year's list even briefer than in the past. (As George Mentore wrote, in reply to an email, "Thank you for the gentle reminder; shame, as you know, always works for Caribbeanists.") And we join other NWIG readers in expressing heartfelt thanks to all those scholars who did take the time to prepare reviews and share their assessments.

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Sally Price and Richard Price

[First paragraph]"Callaloo" follows, in historically correct sequence, its culinary antecedent, "Caribbean pepper-pot" (NWIG 58:89-98); it is devoted to books that for one or another reason have fallen through the cracks of the review process. Some represent titles for which the book review editors have found it impossible, despite repeated efforts, to find a consenting reviewer; others lie on the periphery of geographical or topical categories we cover; yet others do not, in our view, merit longer review in this journal. But all, we think, deserve to be brought to the attention of NWIG readers. Unlike a Books Received column, Callaloo is retrospective; it is intended to complement the substantial section of the journal devoted to reviews themselves.

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Sally Price and Richard Price

[First paragraph]Our 1993 rundown of books that have not, for one reason or another, been reviewed in the NWIG follows the culinary metaphors of its precedents, "Caribbean pepper-pot" (NWIG 58:89-98) and "Callaloo" (NWIG 66:95-99). Cassidy & Le Page's Dictionary ofJamaican English (Cambridge University Press, 1967) offers, s.v. rundown:A kind of sauce made by boiling coconut down till it becomes like custard (but stops short of becoming oil). In it may be cooked salt or pickled fish, banana, or other ingredients.It is served in a bowl in the middle of the table, into which one dips one's bread-kind. See dip-and-come-back.Under "dip-and-come-back," we find thirty-six alternative terms for the dish, including: dip-and-fall-back, dip-and-shake-off, assistant, bread-fruit remedy, dip-dip, dividen-an-flabub, duck-and-shake-back, elbow-grease, frigasi, johnny run-down, kobijong, kuochi waata, malongkontong, mulgrave, pakassa, plaba, plomi, rege, round-the-road, stew-down, swimmerdown, tap-i-a-paas....

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Sally Price and Richard Price

Article on Saramaka Maroons from Suriname who work and live in French Guiana. The authors call for recognition of the Saramaka's contribution to the economy and culture of French Guiana and that these Maroons will be integrated more fully in society.

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Sally Price and Richard Price

[First paragraph]The pairing of commeal and okra, which pops up everywhere in the Caribbean, nicely captures the amalgam of African and American resources that has produced so much of the region's cultures, and bears witness to the earliness of culinary creolization - on both sides of the Atlantic. Corn(maize) is, of course, native to the New World, and okra (gumbo) to the Old. The Dictionary of Jamaican English includes back-to-back entries on oka and okra - the former from a Yoruba word for corn, though in Jamaica it refers to a cassava mush served with an okra sauce (Cassidy & Le Page 1967:328). And while the Ewe word kukü means "corn dumpling" (Cassidy & Le Page 1967:135), its Caribbean cognates generally signal the presence of okra - as in Bahamian cuckoo soup (Holm 1982: 55). Just to the north in the United States, that classic of southern cuisine, fried okra, is made by coating the pods in cornmeal before dropping them in the bacon drippings. At the southern end of the Caribbean, the Brazilian dish called angu (from Yoruba - see Schneider 1991:14) is made with cornmeal (or cassava-flour); its Saramaka namesake (angu), though made with rice- or banana-flour, is usually served with an okra sauce. And in Barbados, cornmeal and okra comprise the essential ingredients of a national culinary tradition, which we will spell coo-coo.2

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Sally Price and Richard Price

[First paragraphs]After dishing out consecutive meals of pepper-pot, callaloo, rundown, migan, sancocho, and coo-coo, the NWIG bookcooks are weary and beg a respite. All else is here as usual; the only thing that's missing is the culinary metaphor.Once again it is our sad duty to publish the year's Caribbeanist Hall of Shame. As always, we list those books that (as of press time, January 1997) have not been reviewed because the scholars who agreed to the task have - despite reminder letters - neither provided a text nor relinquished the books so that they could be assigned to someone else. (Rather than listingdelinquent reviewers by initials alone as in the past, we indicate both initial and final letters here, in an attempt to forestall false accusations and protect the reputations of the innocent.) As in past years, these paragraphs may serve as a kind of backlist "books received."

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Richard Price and Sally Price

[First paragraph]Once again it is our sad duty to announce the annual Caribbeanist Hall of Shame. As always, we list those books that, as of press time (January 1998), have not been reviewed because the scholars who agreed to the task have - despite reminder letters - neither provided a text nor relinquished the books so that they could be assigned to someone else. (Continuing the practice initiated in 1997, we indicate names with both initial and final letters, in an attempt to forestall false accusations and protect the reputations of the innocent.) And as in past years, we hope these paragraphs may serve as a kind of backlist "books received." We are pleased to report that this year's list is significantly briefer than in the past. And we join our readers in expressing heartfelt thanks to all those scholars who did take the time to prepare reviews and share their assessments with us.

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Richard Price and Sally Price

[First paragraph]Our friend Charlemagne (a.k.a. Émilien), who lives down the road and considers himself a breadfruit connoisseur, says that there's only one other tree in southern Martinique whose fruit compares with ours. From our back porch, during the tree's several flowerings each year, we can reach out and piek low-growing fruit by hand, or with a knife-and-pole contraption cut down a milk-flecked orb from higher up in the broad green leaves. This particular tree may even be descended from the oldest breadfruit in the Caribbean, for Martinique was already blessed with trees, transported from "L'ïle-de-France" (Mauritius), by the time Captain Bligh made his 1791-93 voyage from Polynesia, "bringing breadfruit from what was seen to be a Tree of Life in the islands of Paradise ... the very symbol of a free and unencumbered life ... to feed slaves, the living dead of the Caribbean"(Dening 1992:4, 11).

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids
Authors: Richard Price and Sally Price

[First paragraph]In devoting this essay to sancocho, we continue our tradition of annual book round-ups spiced with Caribbean culinary lore. Having already served up pepperpot and rundown from the Anglophone islands, migan from Martinique and Guadeloupe, and callaloo from all of the above, the time seemed ripe to turn to the Hispanic Caribbean. And as our list of books has expanded (from the forty to fifty of previous years to nearly one hundred in this installment), a dish with as many ingredients as sancocho seemed particularly appropriate.

In: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids