Aruba and the Dutch Antilles: food and drink from the “useless islands”
Last time we armchair travelled together to the Caribbean, we were on the A, B islands of Antigua and Barbuda. Now we find ourselves on the A, B, C Islands of Aruba, Bonaire and Curaçao. These islands are nestled so close to Venezuela that debate rages as to whether they are North or South American. Over the years they have taken many names including the Islands of the Giants (due to size of the Indigenous Peoples) or the “Islas Inutiles” (useless islands) (due to their lack of precious metals). But whilst the Spanish didn’t foresee their importance, the Dutch found them very useful indeed and set about deporting the Indigenous giants and replacing them with slaves.
Today the islands maintain their ties to the Netherlands but the national language reveals the A, B C islands’ multicultural nature. Papiamentu is made up of African, English, Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch and Native American words.
None of this history appears in the book I chose to read Nights in Aruba, indeed whilst Aruba appears in a chapter or two, it mainly hovers in the background as the childhood haunt of the main protagonist. None-the-less it gives you the feel of one side of Aruba in the 1950s, a country of bored American housewives drinking too much on their porches as the sun goes down on another meaningless day. The main star of the book though is homosexual life in the 60s, 70s and 80s in the USA. It shows not the violent terror of homophobia, but the quiet tyranny of it, the way it kept and sadly still keeps families apart as children are too scared to talk to their parents about their lives and parents allow their questions to fester. And lives kept separate means lives drift apart. I read the book as a rallying cry to all parents to listen, not judge, to be there for your kids whatever (even if they become Trump supporters). That was you can remain part of their lives and be able to share in their happiness and help them whenever sadness manifests.
To learn about Aruban food, I once more headed to our local Caribbean shop, but they said they knew nothing of Aruba beyond the name! We searched the shelves together but found nothing in the shop from islands A, B or C. I was therefore very glad I had already imported a bottle of blue Curaçao, the drink made from the bitter Laraha orange which is native to island C. We turned it into a Blue Hawaii (I did not use the maraschino cherry but I do know a great poem about one) and a Blue Lagoon, two cocktails that were so delicious, I may go and make another now!
But it wasn’t all booze, we found some lovely recipes too, thanks to That Girl Cooks Healthy and others. Breakfast was Pan Bati, cornmeal pancakes (we relaced milk with soya milk and egg with flaxseed). They were welcomed by the family as one of the more acceptable breakfasts I had come up with. For dinner we ate vegan funchi fries delicious aubergine dish called beregein and the most incredible vegan fried fish (just follow the recipe and use vegan fish from Wing Yip (or anywhere else you can buy it!)
One of the most famous Arubans is Bobby Farrell of Boney M and so the evening was spent in their company. If I never hear ‘Ra Ra Rasputin’ again, it will be too soon.
And that just leaves the film. As with all the Caribbean islands we have visited so far, I was unable to find a full length film so settled instead for the wonderfully forgettable The ABC islands, another one of those documentaries where you get to watch someone paid to swim, snorkel, eat and laugh, whilst sadly wondering where your own life went so wrong.
I am VERY excited to say that next week we will be in Australia, mate!
