Don’t Forgot the Rice this Christmas

This past Sunday evening I joined some members of my church in making dinner for the residents of the Tarrytown, New York YMCA. The residents are largely men in their forties and over; they are brothers, fathers, uncles, and grandfathers. However, many of them may not be eating a Christmas meal today with their families for various and sundry reasons. Last Sunday, we prepared a Christmas ham and several sides including sweet potato casserole, string beans, biscuits, and pineapple. For dessert we served fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. The residents of the Y slowly poured into the make shift dining room in the church’s fellowship hall and started through the buffet line filling their plates. They then sat and enjoyed the food with many raving about how good it all tasted. A short time later, another YMCA resident showed up and started through the line, he was an African American man in his late fifties. He started filling his plate like the previous men, but stopped half way through the buffet line with a confused look on his face. I asked, what’s the matter? He said with a heavy southern accent, “Where is the rice?” I said you must be from the Carolinas? He said “yup I’m from South Carolina.” The exchange reminded of the centrality of rice in the culinary history of many parts of the Americas where slave traders imported thousands of Africans from the West African rice belt between Cape Verde andthe Gold Coast. I found a similar reaction to Christmas meal in sources on turn of the century Cuba. At a Christmas supper, people of all social classes in Cuba, the Carolinas, and the West Indies would regard but indifferently the sliced ham, boned turkey, or the fish if a huge bowl of rice did not accompany them. So depending on your dinner guest, remember, don’t forgot the rice this Christmas. Merry Christmas!