My Ackee Tree by Suzanne Barr

Author:Suzanne Barr [Barr, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Canada
Published: 2022-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

I remember calling my father the morning after the bat mitzvah to share the news.

“What did you do for him? What do you have to give him in return?”

That was his response.

He couldn’t believe that someone would give me that much money simply because he liked my curry. He thought I must have offered something in return.

I couldn’t believe how he saw me. That he would think that I’d sell myself for money, or that I’d say yes to a relationship where I’d owe this man forever.

He continued interrogating me, and I just tuned out. I knew the whole thing would seem crazy to him, and that at the centre of it all, he was just protecting me, but I was too excited to care.

“He thinks I’m a great cook, Daddy. That’s all.”

I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing the thing I most loved that night. Cooking the food that teaches me about my culture, my people, my heritage, and my traditions. I suspected Denise played a part. But as I hung up with my father, a warming calm came over me. I felt my mum’s presence. This was a blessing. An offering. A gift.

I sat on the money for almost two years, unsure of what to do. It was waiting for me when I returned from Paris, and it eventually became the seed money for my first restaurant, Saturday Dinette.

My days working as a private chef for Patty and Mark were often monotonous and lonely, but I wouldn’t have changed them for the world. I learned a lot about myself during that time. I learned that without deep human connection I don’t feel alive and fulfilled. I also discovered that I have a huge affection for France. I had fallen madly in love with Paris. Simple, but true. Having the chance to live in Paris was remarkable, and when Patty and Mark were ready to return to the States, I realized I didn’t want to go back. I also realized that I didn’t want to work for them anymore.

On one of my last days in Paris I met a friend for lunch. We were on the train heading to the restaurant, and someone overheard me mention to her that I wanted to learn more about French pastry. Pastry had always fascinated me and there was something otherworldly about the patisserie I ate in Paris. The baguettes. The croissants. Mmm. The warmth and butter consume you. It truly is an out of body experience. Un taquin, a tease. Many were delicate and light; some were elaborate and seemed to contain the entire history of French cuisine. The American woman who overheard me on the train suggested I look into Gastronomicom, a culinary school in Southern France. I really do believe in being in the right place at the right time. A random person, a complete stranger suggests something and I, of course, have to go deep and find out more. I did some research into

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