A taste of St Ann

Cough, cough! Whew. The enticing trail of smoke beckoned with its come-hither scent of roasted yam, pulling me like a dazed zombie in the direction of the pot. I inhaled a bit too much in a single whiff though, and had to spend a few seconds getting myself back together.

"You want some water fi wash off yuh face?" I heard someone say. Through the cloud of white smoke I saw the speaker, a rotund woman with unprocessed hair in a long blue skirt and grey sweater. I told her I was fine but she nonetheless called out for help on my behalf.

"Jackie! Jackie! Go full one pot ah water carry come! Mek haste!" she yelled.

A skinny girl sitting on a rock behind me jumped to her feet and ran up a nearby hill, huffing and puffing all the way.

I reiterated to the woman in the blue skirt that I was fine and that the pot of water was unnecessary.

"Is alright. By di time she reach where she going she nuh remember what she fi do. Is a likkle pickney who fah head tough like coal stove," the woman said. She told me her name was Pauline and asked if I was interested in purchasing a piece of roasted yam. Having nearly been knocked off my feet from the scent alone, I had to try it, so I told Pauline yes, and she moved with speed in the direction of the fire.

Pauline's stall is set up at the side of the road near Walker's Wood in St Ann. From what I heard, it's quite popular. She has been selling there for many years and has a loyal customer base.

I sat on a wooden bench while Pauline fiddled around with the yam and hot coals. "So how yuh doing today, son?" she asked with a broad smile. Before I could answer, a bearded man wearing an apron walked up.

"Pauline, yuh have nuh foil paper?" he asked.

"See it pon di table. Tear off what yuh need," Pauline replied. The man did as was told and then went back in the direction from which he came.

"Is sell him sell over di other side, so him run out ah foil paper," Pauline told me. I mentioned to her that I thought it was nice of her to help him out.

"No man, is just live we living. Once yuh living around other people is so yuh have to do," she said.

"Is same way one day me might run out of something and den mi can ask for help."

I nodded. A small van going by on the roadway in front of us slowed and Pauline turned around.

"Miss Pauline! Howdy do!" someone yelled. Pauline chuckled and waved merrily as the van continued down the road and out of sight.

"Mi don't know who dat is yuh know, but is one of mi customer dem," she told me.

Pauline then walked over to me with a piping hot piece of roasted yam, partially wrapped in foil.

"Have dis mi bwoy. Yuh lick yuh finger when yuh done," she said.

Harp-playing angels

After a few seconds of allowing it to cool slightly, I bit into the yam. Now, there's a slight chance I might have been imagining it, but I do believe the heavens opened up just then and a host of harp-playing angels appeared before me, declaring yes, the yam was good.

It was, after all, quite possibly the most delicious piece of yam I've ever had. I told Pauline how tasty I thought it was.

"Yes man. Pauline know how fi roast yam. Mi tell yuh when yuh done yuh fi lick yuh finger," she chuckled when speaking.

I spent the next hour or so with the friendly yam roaster as car after car pulled up with passengers eager for some of Pauline's cooking. I left there a satisfied man, but felt badly, when driving away, I noticed the skinny girl frantically running back down the hill with a small pot full of water.

Where would you like Robert to go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com

Feedback

The following are some feedback letters received from readers of last week's edition of Roving with Lalah.

Dear Robert,

Another job well done!

- D.S.

Dear Robert,

Today's article had me laughing my head off! Typical Jamaica. Well written as usual.

- B. T

Dear Robert,

I
got caught up in the same rush before the storm was supposed to hit. I
know exactly what you are talking about. Keep up the good work!

- Martin J.

photos by Robert Lalah

The master at work.