AFRICAN RICE IN NEW YORK




 

While standing in the long line outside The Hungarian Pastry Shop near Columbia University, I was approached by a man who asked if I could give him a job. For a moment there was almost silence, even the laughter from group of gregarious young Asian women just ahead of me became subdued. The man was tall and slim, with dark skin, a few shades darker than my own. He looked about thirty to forty years old, was simply dressed and appeared to be a recent migrant from an African country. Maybe it was the fact that I was the one person standing in the line with skin color resembling his own that prompted the encounter. I asked the man why he thought I could hire him and was surprised to hear him reply that (he thought) I owned a business. I laughed a bit and told him that I would hire him and his family members if I could but, I did not own a business. The man stepped back to his spot close to the end or the sidewalk. After a few more minutes of standing in line I went over to him and said that I could buy him breakfast if he wanted. He was grateful for the gesture and as I as almost ready to enter the shop I asked what pastry he wanted. His answer was "Rice, anything with rice".

Oryza glaberrima, commonly called Hill Rice, Upland Rice or African Rice, was a food that my family prepared when I was a child but discontinued the practice when other cheaper Asian rice varieties flooded the market. Back then we called it 'Creole rice' and I remember picking through the grains to remove any unwanted matter before "fanning". Fanning or winnowing is the process of swiftly flipping a tray, throwing the grains several inches into the air, allowing the wind to move through the grains and blew away chaff. The cooked rice was reddish-brown and had a nutty flavor. 

Four centuries ago grains of rice and other seeds were braided into the hair of African slaves before they were forced to journey across the Atlantic Ocean. Like the slaves, African Rice adapted to land in the southern parts of the US. Some of this rice made its way to Trinidad and Tobago with freed slaves who had fought alongside the British in exchange for their freedom. For a long time Oryza glaberrima was presumed to no longer be in existence, because of the popularity and ubiquity of Asian species of rice. A few years ago, it was discovered growing in the village of Moruga, Trinidad; it was all along being cultivated by small groups of growers who cherished this delicious connection to their African heritage. 

In 2017 I proposed a design for the erection of a twenty-foot mounded platform that was to be planted with African/ Hill Rice on Randall's Island. The elevation served the function of an overlook and the project was to be both an experiment in the feasibility of growing Oryza glaberrima in USDA Zone 7 conditions and well as to access its efficacy on erosion control. Oryza glaberrima can be grown on dry land, without the irrigation needed for other rice species. In this regard it may be very valuable as our planet warms and water becomes more scarce. Also, growing rice that does not need standing shallow water eliminates the concern of mosquito infestations. As part of my graduate thesis I proposed planting African Rice along the contour lines of hillsides. Farmers can benefit from contour farming to keep valuable topsoil in place on sloping land. In addition, this method of growing on slopes slows down runoff and allows water to soak into the soil. Rows of this edible grass were to be accompanied by rows of deep-rooted Chrysopogon zizanioides, called vetiver (a grass my mother harvested, dried and braided), to stabilize hillsides on areas of the Northern Range of Trinidad. Those areas were increasingly under threat of deforestation and subsequent flooding, exacerbated by aggressive squatting practices by  locals and by illegal migrants from nearby Venezuela.

 

I started growing a few grains of African Rice on Randall's Island in 2018, just days after completing grad school. In 2023 I grew about 12 plants that produced beautiful, plump grains. This delicious and nutritious rice may someday feed the world. Africa, the land that continues to give, as much as others take, may teach us valuable lessons in adaptability and survival. There are now thousands more migrants in the US that there were in 2017 and most of them are from countries that rely on rice as their primary food source. Many of them spent or are spending their first days in the US in shelters on Randall's Island.

I marvel about the resilience Oryza glaberrima, a grass, like sugarcane, another culturally important food crop. I marvel about the resilience of Africans displaced centuries ago and all through the years, and all people displaced from their homeland. There is much to admire about the tenacity of the man who made it through numerous countries before arriving in New York. There he was standing in his new, alien land in winter. I imagined the obstacles he had faced and the many he would face as I know of the multitude I have encountered and continue to endure in the thirty-plus years since I too arrived here, to begin a new life, from nothing. Adaptation to and assimilation into this landscape is crucial but like so many other immigrants, I connect to my ancestral roots through the foods I consume. As an immigrant horticulturist, I maintain terrain and tradition through the food crops and hummingbird-magnet plants I grow here, on this land. 

On that day a few weeks ago, I left the pastry shop and together with the new immigrant job-seeker, I located a Thai restaurant where we ordered a meal of red curry and rice. 



CALLALOO: THE DISH. COLOCASIA AND AMARANTH ARE THE PLANTS


In 2021 I worked with two women who were opposed to using botanical names on designs, plant orders, or in the office. In fact they believed the practice was "stupid" as (they insisted) most nursery people did not know the scientific or botanical names of plants, shrubs and trees, so using them was a waste of time. I did not and do not agree. On one occasion I pointed out that Aster cordifolius and Aster diravicatus  were different species from and not the same as Big-leaf aster. My coworkers were not amused.

Maybe all nursery personnel should be expected to identify plants by their botanical names as well as by their common names. Common names are in many cases, misleading and confusing. Many are disrespectful and some have racially charged or ethnically biased origins. The dumbing-down attitude of botanical names is regressive and does not promote excellence or professionalism in the industry. But dumbing-down seems to be trendy in other areas too. One case in point is the misuse of the name 'callaloo' to describe plants in the Amaranthus family. 


The word 'Callaloo' is ingrained in the history of Trinidad and Tobago. In fact, Callaloo is the name of the national dish of the country. The dish has its origins in West Africa, the place of birth of millions of enslaved who were bound and transported across oceans to work on sugar plantations in the Caribbean. As a vital part of the Sunday lunch, callaloo is made with young velvety leaves of Colocasia esculenta, okra, hot peppers, pieces of salted meat and crab, all simmered in coconut milk. The combination of the softened leaves and okra make for a silky consistency in this high-protein and fiber recipe. The result is a rich, flavorful and complex dish of a viscous and slightly soupy consistency. Callaloo is usually served over boiled rice and accompanied by stewed chicken (another Trinidad and Tobago original star), or macaroni pie. It goes well with coucou, a polenta-like dish of ground corn, and is often served alongside stewed fish.

                                     Creamy, mouth-watering goodness, that is Trinidad Callaloo

 


Because of the complex flavors of the dish, the word 'callaloo' itself holds many connotations and it is often used as descriptive noun. We say that is “real callaloo” when things or situations are confused, a mess or mixed up, or where there is political or government discord. We also use the word to point out extreme hybridity in persons or groups of multiple races or ethic backgrounds. 

          Colocasia esculenta is the main ingredient used in Callaloo, the national dish of T+T.

 

In Trinidad and Tobago Colocasia esculenta is called 'dasheen bush'. The underground tuberous root system of the plant is called ‘dasheen’ and is similar to taro. Dasheen root is starchy and can be boiled and eaten like a potato. Some cultivars are blue in color when cooked.

 

 Amaranthus viridisi is the plant used for making Jamaican Callaloo.


In the country of Jamaica, callaloo is a very different dish. Jamaican callaloo is made with the leaves of Amaranth viridis, seasoned with onions and peppers.  This same Amaranth virdis is also an agricultural crop in Trinidad and Tobago but it is cooked differently, with coconut milk and small pieces of salted meat. Amaranthus viridis is what the people of Trinidad and Tobago call spinach.  Amaranthus is eaten cooked or raw on various Caribbean islands and African and Asia countries. However, Amaranthus viridis is easily confused with numerous other species and cultivars of amaranth, some of which are aggressively seeding annual invasive species and pigweed that plague gardeners in the northeast USA. 

To compound matters, Brazilians call Amarantnus viridis by the common name of cararu. It is most likely because of this South American name that Jamaicans adopted the similar sounding name of callaloo.

Yes, I get it. The word callaloo is a bit of a tongue twister and the recently woke or those just discovering it think it is so cool to repeat it. Consequently, I witness people pointing to common pigweed, incorrectly calling the plant callaloo. Ugh!! Even worse is the habit of referring to any plant in the Amaranthus genus as callaloo. I have heard persons referring to Amaranthus cruentus 'Red Hopi' as Red Callaloo,  or Celosia  as Flowering Callaloo.

                                           
         Amaranthus cruentus (Red Hopi Dye) growing at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens.
 
 
Bottom line, referring to Amaranth viridis as Callaloo is not only inaccurate but also downright insulting to the people of Trinidad and Tobago, as this national dish has nothing to do with amaranths. Calling this plant by a name so very loaded with history and culture is reductive and akin to calling a potato a French fry or a tomato, spaghetti sauce. By equating callaloo to Amaranth species, the history and connection of the people of Trinidad and Tobago to the African continent is disregarded. It also assumes that the history, culture  and cuisine of Trinidad and Tobago, Jamaica and other Caribbean islands are one and the same. It is distressing to see even horticulture professionals carelessly and incorrectly using the common name "Callaloo", thereby perpetuating the misinformation.

                                        

 Amaranthus cruentus 'Oeschberg' growing in Jeffery Farrell's garden, in Ashfield, MA.           

 

 
   Amaranthus tricolor
 Amaranthus caudatus 'Dreadlocks'

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So the next time you come across  a plant in the Amaranthus family, and notice that the word 'Callaloo' is at the tip of your tongue, STOP!! Think for a moment.  Just as Trinbagonians refer to the Colocasia leaves used to make their beloved callaloo dish as 'callaloo bush', 'dasheen bush' or 'baji', it would be more accurate, judicious and respectful for horticulturist, growers and indeed the world at large to do the same when using the common name for Amaranthus viridis. Please refer to the amaranthus species used to make Jamaican callaloo as (Jamaican) 'callaloo bush'. Just saying.


Try some Trinidad Callaloo. You can find numerous recipes online. Try some Jamaican Callaloo too. Enjoy the unique flavors produced by vastly different plants, from very different cultures. Accurately naming their respective plant bases and knowing their respective common names is just one way to show your appreciation for the diversity that exists within ethnic groups, and to display cultural respect. 

 

A TROPICAL HOME OF BUTTERFLIES + MOTHS

 
My obsession with lepidoptera and their host plants began as a child, growing up on tropical landscapes. I was mesmerized by longwing butterflies (Helconious spp.) as they feasted on pollen and nectar from flowers on passionflower vines. The butterflies were mostly orange colored with black and white patches. Rare visitors were Zebra longwings or longwings with red and black wing markings. Longwings are slow flyers and did not seem to be concerned about a nosy little girl hanging around and caressing the tendrils of the vines. The spiked caterpillars morphed into the alien-like knobby chrysalis, suspended inside the prisms of the chain-link fence that separated our yard from Ma Jimmy's. I was also very fond of passionfruit and still today relish their tangy sweetness and unique flavor. Last year I grew several species of passion flower on Randall's Island, including the native Passiflora incarnata.

Another favorite childhood butterfly was much more illusive. We called it the six-o-clock butterfly as it appeared around that time each evening. It is the Caligo teucer or Coco Mort Blue butterfly, a species of "owl" butterflies and moths. It is rare to capture the color of the dorsal wings of this butterfly on its short flights, as it sits with its wings in the upright position when resting. As a child I would catch a glimpse of the dusty blue wings flashing by for a moment before the moth would magically disappear, while resting, camouflaged against dried banana leaves, tree trunks or other dark, brown tan colored surfaces. I have not yet captured an image of its larval stage and the caterpillars cleverly disguise and conceal themselves along the midrib of its host plants of the Helconia and Musa genera. Hungry birds may not easily find them.






Whenever I visit my parents and siblings in Trinidad, I spend much of the daylight hours looking at birds and other creatures. There is so much wildlife to see from the verandah or back yard of the house where I grew up and I relish every sighting and encounter. I felt incredibly excited and lucky when I noticed flashes of blue moving past my legs. Quietly and slowly,  I searched very carefully before capturing this image. It may not be apparent but this butterfly has an impressive wing span of almost four inches. Notice the giant eyelet on its hind wing that gives it the common name of the Giant Owl butterfly. I spent many evenings poised in the same spot, waiting for a glimpse of those dusty-blue wings.

 

These mating Leopard Moths were almost undetected against the white begonia flowers in my mothers garden. 
 
 
A beautiful, yet far less illusive butterfly is the White Peacock (Anartia jatrophae). The dorsal (upper side) and ventral (undeside) wings of this butterfly are very similar and almost perfectly matched, which is rare in most butterflies and moths I've observed. I love the greenish tint of its thorax.
 
This White Peacock butterfly hung out in my sister's yard in Couva, Trinidad. 

I spied several colorful longwing butterflies in a nearby undeveloped space and asked my dad if he though I needed permission to enter and take photographs. He did not think there would be any objections. Alas, the following day I found that the wild, meadow-like area was cleared. No flowers, so no butterflies. Landscapes and the creatures they sustain increase and decrease in direct proportions. Butterflies, moths and birds are so much more than fascinating, mysterious and beautiful. In some particular and often vital ways they each contribute to a chain of events that keep the ecosystems of the tropics and of the planet thriving. I look forward to seeing them, mourn the increasing loss of their habitats and cherish every minute I share with them, on those landscapes close to the equator.




PERCH: Hummingbirds of Trinidad + Tobago

WHITE-NECKED JACOBIN
COPPER-RUMPED
                                                                                                                                                                 
WHITE-NECKED JACOBIN (Female)
RUBY TOPAZ (Female)
  

                                                                                              
 
The valleys, mountains and slopes in regions of the Northern Ranges of Trinidad were considered sacred by the Indigenous people or Amerindians, who had lived on the island for thousands of years before the arrival of Europeans. They called the island "Iere" or "Irie", meaning "The Land of the Hummingbird". So it is. Trochiladae, the hummingbird family, contains roughly 350+ species of hummingbirds. Nineteen species of hummingbirds live on the islands of Trinidad and Tobago, with two species found only in Tobago. 
 
Hummingbirds held a special status among Indigenous people of the islands, as they were believed to embody the souls of their ancestors. Hummingbirds are also important emblems in the national identity of the island today. The coat of arms of the country includes images of three birds: the Scarlet Ibis, the Cocrico and two Hummingbirds. Hummingbirds can be found on logos for various significant national companies, like Caribbean Airlines, and on the insignias of the police service and various military departments.
 
The village of Acona
 


RUBY TOPAZ 

 



The male RUBY TOPAZ appears drastically different depending on the angle and levels of light reflected on its iridescent plumage.

 This COPPER-RUMPED hummingbird frolics in light rain.















 BLACK-THROATED MANGO

 

Dr. Theodore Ferguson and his wife Gloria have created a hummingbird sanctuary at their home, a paradise nestled in the Maracus Valley. With nectar from tropical plants and strategically-placed nectar feeders, scores of winged jewels are well fed and thriving, much to the delight of photographers. I was captivated by the birds' energy and antics as they zipped around, displaying mesmerizing aerial maneuvers. As well as being an talented photographer, Dr. Ferguson is an expert on all things hummingbird. He wowed us with details of hummingbird morphology, physiology and aeronautic prowess and treated us to a video presentation featuring stunning close-ups images of the magical creatures. My family and I were thoroughly impressed.



Theodore and Gloria Ferguson, with painter Kenwyn Crichlow (right), at Yerettê (an indigenous word for hummingbird).

 









BLUE-CHINNED SAPPHIRE

WHITE-NECKED JACOBIN (Male)
BLACK-THROATED MANGO (Female)

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                         

WHITE-CHESTED EMERALD  
RUFOUS-BREASTED HERMIT    

 


 

                                                                                                                      
COPPER-RUMPED       






















LONG-BILLED STARTHROAT with Copper-rumped Hummingbirds


I left Yerettê and that sacred landscape in awe, with a renewed spirit, inspiration and deeper appreciation for my ancestors. I also felt more empowered to do whatever I can to preserve the biodiversity of this beautiful country of my birth and the ecology of this new alien, adopted landscape I now call home.



 

WEAR PLANTS: Connecting People + Plants

Creative plant and ecology-based programing was one significant goal I accomplished as the Manager of Horticulture at Randall's Island Park Alliance. By introducing basic concepts of botany, the beauty and usefulness of flowers and the importance that butterflies, bees, birds and bats play in the pollination of flowers, I hoped to make staff and park visitors more aware of the importance of our jobs as horticulturists, gardeners and educators. Ultimately, creative and easily accessible ecological and horticulture-based programs increase our awareness of our connection to various organisms and make us think or care about the natural world and our impact on the environment. 

 
Weedy vines like, porcelain berry, and bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) vine are great in bouquets as well as in flower crowns and other wearable plant art. Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris) makes an excellent base for a ring of flowers too.
 
 Starting in the spring of 2022 we grew beds of dahlias, various species of amaranth, zinnias and other annuals, that were combined with common gardens weeds and native perennials to help park visitors create their own flower crowns. We made bouquets and distributed them to staff and park visitors during events. At pollinator festivals we swore and assisted patrons with making butterfly, bird and leaf masks. So much fun!!!

 


 

Dahlias  from tubers gifted by Grace, a farmer friend. Many tubers came from a  plant swap with a former student at NYBG. Many thanks for the bounty and beauty.












There are lots of opportunities for creativity with these masks, modeled by the artists. Can you identify the leaves and flowers used? I see cercis, sumac, maple, catalpa, cotinus, London planetree and goldenrod.

Paper flower poppies
Dahlias, zinnias, salvias, asters and porcelain vine
  
 
 
We hosted an anatomically correct paper-flower workshop that was a hit. Over several weeks we collected and pressed numerous flowers and leaves for a pressed plant workshop. Participants were enthusiastic and grateful for the guidance during these workshops. Working with flowers and plants always creates positive impacts and participants learn new and fun skills bits of ecology and botany. 


The Ruby-throated hummingbird mask required some wire-bending and paper marché but overall it was fun to create. It think we can reach and inspire people to care about plants, insects and birds if we make learning about them fun and interactive. Maybe more knowing will lead to more caring and to better outcomes for the future of our planet.



WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU PEPPERS

MAKE HORT SAUCE

My sisters and bothers are cooks and gardeners and we are all snobs when it comes to good food. We are makers of scrumptious dishes that attempt to rival those of our industrious and talented mother Pearl. Under Pearl’s tutelage we learned to bake bread and cakes, make home-made ice-cream make chutneys, kuchela, tamarind sauce, preserved cherries, guava, papaya and pineapple jam and candy, and coconut oil. Now, many years later in my New York apartment, I make tamarind sauce and pepper sauce, to go with curries, stews  and other dishes of which my friends in New York and Massachusetts are beneficiaries.

When the afternoon sun flooded the office space of the Horticulture department on Randall’s Island, it scorched the begonias and tislandsias  sitting on my window sill. How many of us long to have a 4x4 foot space to garden in, let alone one in full sun, affording the opportunity to grow heat-loving plants? I thought it would be wasteful to not accept this gift and wise to capitalize on the pure and free energy. I decided to have the Horticulture department create a line of pepper sauce. The Hort department would create Hort Sauce. 


 

 

 

The idea turned into a 4’x 28’ raised bed erected on a 6’ wide strip of gravel, previously full of tall weeds. The horticulture department started growing various species of peppers from seed under grow lights and transplanted them in the long bed around Memorial Day. 

 

 



 

 

In another long row of 4 wide beds we grew tomatoes, eggplant, Hill rice (Oryza glaberrima), Hibiscus sabdariffa, and one sugarcane plant, which was donated by a  friend at a botanic garden. The tomatoes got off on a rough start and required a lot of staking, but overall the harvest was bountiful. 

 

 
            Tomatoes from Summer 2022  and Tomatoes and Eggplant from Summer of 2023

 

 The peppers did exceptionally well and we harvested over 30 pounds. 

 


With names like Meadow, Solar and Flame, we filled and labeled 3.5 once bottles and distributed HellGate Hort Sauce to staff in other departments.

 

I continue the tradition of making hot pepper sauce, tamarind sauce and other sweet and savory preserves. I think of my mom and siblings as I go through the process of chopping and blending. While channeling Pearl’s energy, I hope to pass on her many inspiring traits. Like Pearl and other gardeners and cooks, I've learned and I am still learning to be resourceful and industrious, and to remember to make the most of what I’ve been allotted. 

 

 

 

AFRICAN RICE IN NEW YORK

  While standing in the long line outside The Hungarian Pastry Shop near Columbia University, I was approached by a man who asked if I could...