About 60 years ago on Little Corn Island, a tiny dot in the Caribbean Sea, 70 miles off the coast of Nicaragua, a cook named Maritza was born to a Colombian mother and Cuban father. She goes by “Bongui,” her last name, though the gringos call her “Granny,” thanks to a sign on a table set up in her front veranda: Granny’s Creole Cooking School. Her house is flanked by mango and coconut trees, several carefully placed hammocks and benches, and a fire pit out back under a tamarind tree.
My sons and I were on the island for spring break, and we ended up at Granny’s a lot. Over two weeks, we ate some epic meals there, including run down, a seafood stew served with local starches such as cassava, plantains, and breadfruit. Our favorite was her chicken curry, and we'd returned for an encore presentation of that dish. This time, to mix it up, she added some dumplings and used an “island chicken,” a locally sourced rooster from the North end of the Island. As the chicken bubbled on the fire beneath the tamarind tree, its feet sticking out of the pot, Granny directed a kid named Pinky to crack and grate some dry coconuts.
This chicken curry is a great recipe for me to share with you because the ingredients are all available at home, so we can recreate it perfectly. The same can’t be said for run down or fried yellowtail.
Granny served the curry with coconut rice and some fried, smashed plantain chips called tostones. As we doused our food with habanero vinegar and chased it down with a sweet, cold tamarind beverage, Granny told us about a cooking contest that was going down the next day at the village wharf. All of the best cooks on the island would be there—including Granny, the culinary Cardi B of Little Corn Island.
“Dem [expletive] all feared a-me,” Granny announced, with a grand sweep of her hand, before pointing to herself. “Because dem know dis [expletive] can cook.”
Granny’s Stolen Title
The next afternoon, Granny’s fried yellowtail sat on a plate on a card table, flanked by a green coconut and a bunch of flowers. The tables of her competitors were laid out like catered buffets, with main courses flanked with fish balls, conch fritters, bush salads, and stewed green papaya.Granny was furious. She hadn’t known she was allowed to bring side dishes.
The winner was a steamed yellowtail with Caribbean sauce. Second place was a fried yellowtail in Caribbean sauce. Granny’s fried yellowtail in coconut cream did not make the podium.
Later that night, I ran into a fishing guide named Whiskers. Apologetically, I told him that I would not be fishing with him, but with Granny’s husband, Tuba. Whiskers understood. “Bongui got set up, mon!” he said, referring to Granny’s fate at the competition. “Dem make she tink twas but one dish wen dem knew der was plenty.”
The next night, I asked the winner, Michelle Gomez, if she would prepare her winning dish for us. It was delicious, but the earth didn’t tremble beneath my feet. I believe that yellowtail, being a tad bony, is better when fried crispy. And I love the interaction between a flavorful sauce and a crispy fish. So the next night, we went to Granny’s and gave her entry a try. It was definitely better than the winning fish. But not as good as Granny’s chicken curry.
A few days later, I did end up taking an excursion with Whiskers. We went night snorkeling and saw octopi large and small, rays, sea turtles, and two lobsters mating.
As for Granny, well, she may not have won that $100 prize, but we took care of her. And she sent us home with dense bricks of cooked-down ginger, coconut, and sugar. I’ve been putting pieces of it in the boys’ school lunches since we came home as a little edible reminder of Little Corn Island. As if they could ever forget.
Granny’s Chicken Curry
Serves 4 to 6, depending on the size of the chicken- 1 whole chicken, cut up, or parts (I use a pack of drumsticks and a pack of thighs)
- 1 medium onion or shallot, sliced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 hot pepper, sliced
- 3 lemons or limes, juiced
- 1 cubic inch fresh ginger, sliced
- 1 teaspoon chicken bouillon paste or powder
- 1/4 cup coconut oil
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 4 tablespoons curry powder
- 1 can coconut milk (or make milk from 2 dry coconuts)
- 1 bunch basil, chopped
- 1 bunch cilantro, chopped
- Salt and pepper to taste
While that marinates, add the coconut oil to a stew pot and turn the heat to medium. Add the sugar and cook for about 10 minutes, until the sugar is beyond browned and is completely blackened. Add the chicken to the burned sugar and oil. Turn the heat to high, and cook the chicken for about 30 minutes, turning occasionally.
Add the onions and peppers from the marinade, along with the curry powder. Mix it all together and add the coconut milk. Reduce the heat to medium and cook another 30 minutes.
Adjust seasonings to taste. Add the basil and cilantro, and serve with rice.
