One sunny summer day, Maria and her daughter Sofia decided to take a leisurely stroll through the fields near their small town. While wandering around, they came across a small tree that immediately caught Maria’s eye. Curious, she took a closer look and was surprised to see that it was covered with tiny white fruits that she did not recognize.
At first Maria thought the fruits were bird eggs or something similar. But upon closer inspection she realized that they were actually white eggplants. Sofia was fascinated by the unusual sight and begged her mother to select some and try to cook with them.
Although Maria was hesitant to use the white eggplants as she wasn’t sure how to prepare them, Sofia’s enthusiasm convinced her to give it a try. She picked a few and brought them home.
Upon her return, Maria devoted herself to cooking and searched online for the best way to use the eggplants. She settled on a classic Italian dish: eggplant parmesan, a recipe she had always loved.
Maria sliced the eggplant thinly and fried it until golden brown, then covered it in rich tomato sauce and melted mozzarella cheese before baking the dish to perfection. When it was ready, she and Sofia enjoyed the meal together.
To Maria’s delight, the eggplant parmesan turned out to be exceptionally delicious. The eggplants were tender and flavorful and paired perfectly with the spicy tomato sauce and gooey cheese.
From then on, Maria made it a summer tradition to visit the field and check on the white eggplant tree. Every year the tree was there, producing its unique fruit. Maria would gather a few eggplants and use them to make her beloved eggplant parmesan, a dish that had become a family favorite.
The discovery of the white eggplant tree not only led Maria and Sofia to a new culinary adventure, but also reminded them that amazing finds can sometimes come from the most unexpected places.
This Caribbean Island Is Back From the Brink—and Ready To Share Its Treasures With the World
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The paintings of Italian-born artist Agostino Brunias, who made a profession of depicting the island in subdued, stylized settings that covered up the harsh realities of colonial control, were my first visual introduction to Dominica. However, as soon as I step onto its winding roads, which begin to twist shortly after I arrive, it becomes evident that this region, which is situated in the center of the Lesser Antilles’ curve, is anything but tame. The two-toned leaves of its bois canot trees, which change color from green to white when they sway in the wind, shimmer and bristle with the power of the volcano. It lulls with the erratic sound of its numerous waterfalls, scatters rainbows haphazardly across its breathtaking horizons, and enchants from the depths with its vibrant coral reefs. And it roars come storm season.
The indigenous Kalinago people of Dominica survived invasion by the French and British, who imposed slavery on the Africans who now make up four-fifths of the island’s population and left a linguistic legacy of English and French-based Creole, by mastering the lush tropical rainforest that covers more than 60% of the island. If you visit Trinidad for roti and Jamaica for jerk, you should travel to Dominica for green things like bush rum and flower teas. There are a ton of medicinal herbs in the forest.
The Jungle Bay Dominica resort, located smack dab in the center of the Soufrière jungles, leans into nature instead, maybe realizing the futility of fighting against the earth’s generosity. When I finally get there, the kitchen is closed. Joanne Hilaire, the operations manager, tells me that they never let guests go hungry, though, so I can feel the warmth of Dominica’s welcome. The cook is preparing an excellently stewed dish of beans with taro, rice, and plantain for our late dinner, off the menu, while I have a refreshing ginger-lime cocktail that is a local favorite. When I wake up the following morning, I find that my villa’s doors open onto a private veranda that faces southwest toward Soufrière Bay, where the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean converge. I let the light wake me for the remainder of my stay by leaving my blinds open.
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