The Caribbean food scene in the UK is akin to a private members’ club. Invite-only. Unless you run in certain circles, you might not know much about it. Family recipes, the best butchers, where to buy a quality Dutch pot, how to make the perfect dhal puri roti… The community is powered by word of mouth, not to mention the sheer breadth of culture emanating from the islands, each of which is unique. Put simply, it can be intimidating for an outsider. Enter Riaz Phillips, who’s on a mission to make Caribbean cooking feel more accessible.
In his new cookbook-come-historical-journal East Winds, the 33-year-old celebrates the islands and countries of the eastern Caribbean (his earlier book, West Winds, already covered Jamaica). Out on 5 October, East Winds is a joyous celebration of Trinidadian, Guyanese, Surinamese and Grenadian cultures, traditions and, of course, cuisine. Its 90 recipes are grouped into chapters devoted to different dishes – think curry or roti – with each one a testament to Phillips’s expertise and passion.
Naturally, as a Brit with Trinidadian heritage myself, I was excited to learn more about the book. So, on a mild Tuesday afternoon, I took the Victoria line down to Fish Wings and Tings in Brixton, where Phillips had suggested we meet. Over curry channa, roti and ginger beer, he talked me through the process of bringing East Winds to life.
First things first: why did you want to write East Winds?
In the past, Caribbean cookbooks in the UK have largely been focused on Jamaican dishes, which makes sense, given that the majority of the Windrush generation came from Jamaica, but many people migrated from other Caribbean countries too, like Guyana, Trinidad, Grenada, and so on. Each place is so different. Certain foods that are everywhere in Jamaica are impossible to find in Trinidad – Port of Spain doesn’t have jerk chicken on every corner the way that Kingston does, for example – but if you go to a “Caribbean” restaurant in London, you’re going to see jerk chicken, saltfish, ackee and roti all on the same menu, even though they’re native to different islands. I wanted the book to show the full breadth of culture and recipes in the Caribbean.
Tell me a bit about your research process.
It started with a lot of reading. If you look at the bibliography at the back of East Winds, it’s massive. Mainly, though, I spent a lot of time out in Trinidad, Guyana and Suriname. Social media made it easier to connect with people and reach out to them to hear their stories and get recommendations. When I wrote my first cookbook, Belly Full: Caribbean Food in the UK, I got to know so many chefs and people like Brian [Danclair, owner of Fish Wings and Tings] who told me about different places.
Still, there’s definitely no substitute for being in the Caribbean. If I wanted to see somebody making roti, I didn’t research where to go and watch that. I waited until I got there, then started talking to people and asking questions. The Caribbean is great; everyone knows someone who knows someone who can help you out. I was told stories about what food their parents would make when they were younger, where they got their ingredients from… Often, I didn’t even have to ask questions.
Food is such a part of life there, too. I found that most people I stayed with were connected to what they were eating, whether that meant growing their own herbs and spices, raising their own ducks or chickens, or picking leaves from their own trees to make tea. It’s like an ecosystem; they might just go to their neighbours because they know that they grow a certain vegetable, and the neighbour could return to them for a plate of food. We don’t really have that culture in the UK.
I spent a lot of time in New York and Toronto, too. It was cool to see the intersection between Caribbean culture and city life there; there’s a lot of parallels to London. When you’re in Queens in New York or Scarborough in Toronto, it feels like you could be in Seven Sisters or Brixton. There’s the West African communities, the Indian communities, the Caribbean communities… But the Trinidadian and Guyanese populations are proportionately much bigger [than in London]. So there’s a broader realisation of Caribbean food; you wouldn’t just walk into any shop and expect to get jerk chicken, for example.
Where did your love of food start?
I always ate Caribbean food growing up – but to me it was just food. It wasn’t until I went to school in a predominantly white middle-class area that I realised the food I was eating was different to my friends. My grandma also passed away, and I really regretted not talking to her about where she came from.
After I finished university, there was a weird full-circle moment because loads of people from uni started moving to Hackney, where I grew up. They would talk about a lot of the Caribbean shops in the area, saying they were nervous to go inside because they didn’t know about the food. It was a mystery to them, even though it’s been in this country for so long. There were also a couple of books that came out about East London food that featured no Black or Caribbean restaurants. It wasn’t the East London that I knew. So I launched a Kickstarter and began my first book. I came to places like [Fish Wings and Tings] with my camera, interviewing the owners and taking pictures of the food. The entire project was very much DIY in spirit; I was going around with a suitcase full of cookbooks trying to sell them to shops. But it was amazing to document all the food.
At one point, though, I realised I didn’t actually know how to cook a lot of the stuff myself. I’d just been enjoying eating it for so long, and I was never really pressured to get into the kitchen in the same way my female cousins were. I couldn’t live with myself not knowing, so I started to learn the recipes, and things grew from there.
East Winds (£25) is available from 5 October 2023 at DK Books.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity throughout.
