Caribbean Cooking Confessions: Naomi’s ackee and saltfish with sweet plantains

Three words: ackee and saltfish. The bright yellow fruit when cooked might look like eggs to some, but to Caribbean natives and the proud islanders of Jamrock (Jamaica), ackee and saltfish is not your ordinary meal or a “to try” experience for tourists, but rather the national dish of Jamaica, where ackee is the national fruit.

The fruit is highly poisonous when unripe and can be fatal if consumed at this point. When the fruit naturally splits open and reveals the edible yellow flesh, it is safe to consume. Ackee is indigenous to West Africa and made its way to Jamaica during the 18th century, most likely due to the transatlantic slave trade.

Now, the traditional dish is loved among Jamaicans, tourists and food lovers at any time of the day and can be paired with various sides to enhance the meal.

Mi nuh waan no Jamaicans vex wid mi, so wi ago keep di recipe simple an’ ting, cyaan? (Quite literally translates to “Let’s keep the recipe simple because I don’t want any Jamaicans mad at me for my pairing suggestions.”)

For breakfast, ackee and saltfish is typically served with Johnny Cakes or Jamaican fried dumplings (which, come to think of it, kind of remind me of magwinya). During lunch, ackee and saltfish can be paired with fried sweet plantains, as I did for this recipe. Finally, for a filling dinner, ackee and saltfish can be eaten with callaloo (a leafy green dish made with amaranth leaves) and boiled dumplings.

When TGIFood Editor Tony Jackman asked me to contribute an occasional recipe I was honoured, yet anxious. The acclaimed food critic and beloved cook with hundreds of recipes wanted me to introduce my Caribbean cooking heritage to his South African cuisine platform.

While I am a self-proclaimed foodie and now pescatarian princess, I must admit that cooking makes me anxious. I come from a family of undeclared professional chefs who get on real bad in the kitchen (that means “can cook quite well”), and even those who marry into my family can hold their own. Yet, every time I step into my parents’ kitchen, I glance at my mom’s art piece that is essentially a prayer for the chef. I pray every time before I cook, hoping the meal turns out as well as their dishes.

I grew up watching my parents and family members cook in the kitchen. I vividly remember childhood meals that I no longer eat due to my pescatarian diet, yet the conversations around the table, across the kitchen counter and as we washed the plates are burned into my subconscious.

As I write this introduction, I remember my mom making her famous jerk chicken, macaroni pie, green salad, and potato salad for my brother and I every Sunday when my father was deployed. During his absence, the warmth of her food brought me comfort, and each scrape of the plate meant one second closer to reuniting as a family of four.

What Tony also doesn’t know is that his request crosses off a goal on my vision board — to cook more and, most importantly, become more confident in my cooking. Who would have thought I would get to have this journey shared on an international platform? Thank you, Tony.

As I prepared to cook this ackee and saltfish recipe, I chopped the vegetables finely as my father cooked his own meal on the stove: he was making stew chicken.

As I cleaned the knife after my last slice, I asked my dad about the hurricane in Jamaica. While we were cooking, the locals in Jamaica were preparing for a category 5 hurricane. My family had been keeping track of Hurricane Melissa, checking in on loved ones since the warnings began.

My dad told me that one of the most devastating hurricane ever to occur in Jamaica was in 1988 — Hurricane Gilbert. As a Trinidadian soldier, he told me he was the first soldier listed to report to Jamaica to help civilians. My father, a true helper and people lover, was ready before he was even notified. The timer for the boiled saltfish rang and it was time to assemble the dish.

As we keep Jamaica in our prayers, I thought to introduce ackee and saltfish as my first recipe for TGIFood.

Naomi’s ackee and saltfish

Ingredients

1 entire pack of salted pollock fillets (substitute haddock)

1 entire tin of canned ackee in brine (the Jamaican Choice brand, which is ready to consume once placed in the pan, and is not dangerous)

¼ onion, cut finely

1 small red pepper, cut finely

1 small orange pepper, cut finely

1 small yellow pepper, cut finely

5 small tomatoes, cut finely

2 scallions (green onions/spring onions)

⅛ small scotch bonnet pepper (optional — it adds a nice kick to the dish, but beware as it is super hot), cut finely (substitute any red chilli)

Garlic (optional)

2 thyme sprigs

Salt (optional and it depends on how much salt has been removed from the fish. You can add from a pinch of salt up to a tablespoon back into your mix, to your liking)

Black pepper

Complete Seasoning Sazón Completa by BADIA (completely optional and not required, but I was feeling jazzy)

Olive oil

Method

Cover saltfish with water and bring to boil (10 minutes).

Drain the water and refill with fresh water and continue boiling for 5 minutes (you want to remove almost 80-90% of the salt content).

Drain the last boiling session of water and rinse under cool water and drain until dry.

Flake the fish (break it gently into smaller pieces with a fork; no bones were involved with my packaged salt fish, but debone if needed).

To prepare ackee, drain the brine and wash the golden fruit lightly with water (try not to make the fruit mushy to preserve the texture).

Sauté the vegetables on medium heat using olive oil.

Add salt (optional or to your liking), black pepper and optional sazón.

Cook vegetables until the onions soften; do not caramelise.

Allow vegetables to cook for about 3-5 minutes before adding saltfish and cook for another 3-5 minutes.

Watch and stir to ensure even distribution of flavours and spices.

Add ackee, and toss lightly to keep whole (I decided to cover the pan and turned the heat slightly lower to give the ackee a chance to cook without disrupting the consistency).

Turn off the stove and garnish with thyme or rosemary. (I used rosemary but thyme is better for this dish.)

Serve hot with a side of fried sweet plantains. See recipe below.

Plantain

Ingredients

2 ripe plantains

1-2 cups of olive oil

Salt (optional, I didn’t use, but depending on how ripe the plantains are some people might like to season some more)

Sugar (optional, I didn’t use, but depending on how ripe the plantains are some people might like to season some more)

Method

Peel the plantain by cutting off its ends and then gently slicing the middle of it from root to end, being careful not to cut it in half.

Slice plantain diagonally into thin strips, about 5mm.

Next step is to start frying the soon-to-be-golden-brown juicy strips.

Heat the olive oil on medium high and gently place the plantain strips into the pan, being careful to not let the oil splash you.

Allow the plantain to cook on both sides for about 5-7 minutes (if this is your first time you can cook the plantain on both sides by taking two forks to gently flip it over on each side until it is golden brown or the colour of your liking. I prefer a darker shade of brown, but not burned.)

While frying the plantain, I poke small holes on one side using a fork to allow it to cook faster and ensure a softer result.

Once fried, place on two or three sheets of paper towel to help absorb the oil.

Serve as a side or to satisfy your plantain cravings. DM