The author is the founder of Vive la allée and content director of the Group of Fifty. He also collaborates in washington post.
How often do you visit Haitian grocery stores? Montreal has many, mainly to meet the needs of its large and well-rooted Haitian community. However, I have the impression that many white Montrealers have never set foot there because they are not sure what to do with all these unknown tropical products. It can be intimidating to be surrounded by strange plants whose fruit you wouldn’t know how to eat without a guide.
For us Latinos, it’s different. Throughout the Caribbean Basin, farmers grow the same crops: maize, beans, cassava, plantains and several tropical fruits. They have different names in different places, but even if we don’t know what Haitians call them, we recognize them visually.
This is why I like to browse the Haitian shop in my neighborhood, here in La Petite-Patrie, in search of fruits that remind me of my childhood: guanabanas, nísperos, lechozas and many others that no one knows here, except, of course, the Haitians.
Recently, I hit the jackpot. To my amazement, I found that the gentleman behind the counter at the Haitian grocery store in my neighborhood was packing… moms. I had never seen this little green fruit in 14 years of living in Montreal, and my heart skipped a beat. I asked him if I could taste one, to confirm that it was indeed what I imagined it to be. ” A kenep ? Yes of course ! he said, offering me one of those little green jewels. I sank my teeth into the peel to separate the bark, revealing a bright yellow pulp.
Then I started sucking on fruit and groceries, then the whole world dissolved around me. I was living a pure Proustian moment. Sensation ? Imagine your favorite childhood treat, a delicacy you haven’t tasted in decades, suddenly flooding your mouth again. The experience almost made me cry with happiness.
Later on Wikipedia I learned that the tree we call the my my Or mamoncillo in Venezuela, but which the Haitians call kenepis recognized by science as the Melicoccus bijugatus. This fruit tree is native to northern South America, like me, but it is cultivated today throughout the Caribbean basin. The taste of a kenep is difficult to describe: it is at the same time sweet, tangy and aromatic. Above all, it’s a taste recognizable by the dry feeling it leaves in your mouth, almost like a tannic wine does.
But its most… characteristic feature is the fact that the pulp is very well attached to the seed, which represents about 90% of the volume of the fruit. In short, it is a fruit that requires a certain determination for anyone who tackles its consumption: you have to suck hard to suck up the pulp from a my my. More than just a snack, eat a my my is a hobby.
I gave one to my 11 year old daughter, who had never eaten one in her life. ” What is this ? she asked me. I showed her how to open one, then asked her to suck the pulp hard.
Her eyes widened as she tasted the my my for the first time. It must be said that it is a lively and fresh taste, easy to appreciate. After a few minutes working on his first my my, without having succeeded in sucking up all the pulp of the fruit, she looked up and concluded: “Wow, it takes patience to eat this thing! »
Delighted to continue sharing this discovery, I looked on my phone to see which Venezuelan I knew lived closest to me, and I went directly to his house, by bike, to deliver, in person, people moms.
“In Haiti, they call them kenep and, apparently, they import it here in the summer,” I told my friend Armando before opening the package I had brought to show him this coveted fruit. His eyes widened like mine had done earlier. He immediately put one in his mouth, cracked the skin with his teeth, and began the process of sucking out the pulp.
I saw blissful happiness spread across Armando’s face as he meticulously separated the pulp from the seed. “That’s good,” he said, ecstatically, before adding: “We have to let everyone know. »
Paradoxically, in these days of impeccable political correctness when we are constantly urged to celebrate the diversity of our communities, we remain cautious. We know it’s best not to ask people to stray too far from their comfort zone. It’s a shame, because it means that many Montrealers will continue to deprive themselves of the pleasures of kenep without any valid reason.
So I would like to challenge all readers: if you’ve never set foot in a Haitian grocery store in your life, take 30 seconds to search for one on Google Maps. If you’re in the city of Montreal, or even in a few rather remote North Shore suburbs like Bois-des-Filion, you’ll be surprised how close there is.
Call them. Ask them if they have any kenep in stock right now.
If the answer is yes, go ahead and ask the staff if they can show you how to eat a kenep. You will make their day, that’s for sure! But the experience will also make yours. You will be able to discover not just a totally new taste sensation, but a new hobby, which will bring you closer to your neighbors in the Caribbean.