When you travel, cultural insights are often gleaned from the food on your spoon.
In the Seychelles, a string of volcanic islands in the Indian Ocean with cerulean skies, a typical dinner plate straddles many frontiers—its food is a freeze-frame of the different races and powers that have ruled or passed through it. The traditional Seychellois cuisine is a mélange of Indian, Chinese, African and French influences. From ginger and lemon grass to coriander and tamarind, Seychellois cuisine is a bewildering fusion of different cultures.
“The merchants from India brought spices like cumin, clove, saffron and coriander and today cari and rice is a local favourite on any menu,” explains our Creole guide Pat. The Indian touch also seems to be in chatinis (chutneys)—tiny long slivers of green papaya, golden apple and other fruits and vegetables pureed, salted and tossed with lemon juice along with fried onions. Ten different chillies are grown here, and on every table there is a side dish of fiery chillies. The French gastronomy is found in the extensive use of herbs while the East African influence is seen in vegetables and fruits like sweet potato, manioc, vanilla and bananas.
A good window into local produce is the colourful Sir Selwyn Clarke market in the centre of Victoria, the capital city. In the shade of a giant mango tree, the stalls burst with spices, fruit and vegetables, fish and seafood. I see stalls overflowing with exotic fruits like mango, pineapple, watermelon, cantaloupe, paw-paw, bitter oranges known as bigarades and carambole (star fruit). Fresh pods of vanilla, giant bundles of aromatic cinnamon and bottles of vanilla essence are sold by plump women in sundresses.
There are no fast food chains. Restaurants serve regional cuisine in spectacular open-air settings—I really enjoy the warm laid-back ambience of the beach restaurants where food can be savoured fanned by ocean breezes, and listening to the sound of waves. I enjoy Creole meals in a beach shack in Praslin, in a typical Creole house with pretty trellises on La Digue and overlooking the beach at the Boathouse restaurant in Beau Vallon. The basic ingredients are rice and fish, with the addition of aromatic herbs and spices like cinnamon, cloves, garlic, ginger, and fiery chillies. Meals are often served with chutneys and pickled vegetables, called achar. The Creole sauce is a typical staple with tomatoes, onions, green bell pepper and cayenne pepper. I taste the signature dessert of the island called Ladob—a sweet concoction made from sweet potato, ripe plantain or breadfruit boiled in coconut milk and spiced with nutmeg and vanilla.
The islands abound in a variety of marine life and many of them find their way to the table. For the brave at heart, there are dishes like fruit bat curry called rousettes, and shark chutney made from shark meat and cooked with bilimbi (a cousin of gooseberry) and lime juice. It is commonly served with lentils and rice! “Actually, the fruit bats live on fruits and flowers and are one of the cleanest animals and not to be confused with vampire bats,” clarifies Pat.
The local tipple is palm wine or calou, sold at wayside bars in the Wednesday market on Beau Vallon beach. You can also wash down your spicy meals with some lemon grass tea.
My heart still warms up to the memory of special local dishes like the ‘millionaire’s salad’ or ‘Salade de Palmiste’ made from palm hearts, and so-called because the whole tree has to be felled to obtain the delicate palm heart.
There are 23 varieties of bananas available in the islands and they are served in different mouth-watering ways—fried with sugar and butter, baked with coconut milk and sugar or even flambéed with rum! The other two main staples of the country are breadfruit and coconut. Pat tells me if you eat breadfruit, local lore has it that you will return to the island. Of course, I accept the starchy breadfruit as deep fried chips.