I have always been a fan of food. From a very early age I would join my mother and grandmother in the kitchen, carefully watching all their movements as they went back and forth with a handful of this or a handful of that. I watched various ingredients disappear into numerous pots and pans, desperate to join in on the action. Eventually, they would let me in on their inexhaustible number of tips, which I regarded as our little secrets. I sat on a counter patiently and waited to be asked for my assistance. As time went on my responsibilities went from washing a few things in the sink to making entire meals from scratch, asking for their assistance when it was required.

​

I grew up in a tiny island in the Caribbean called Barbados. It is known for its beaches (there is supposedly one for every day of the year) and for being the paradise that it is. However, there is another side to my island or rather my region, the Caribbean, and that is its food culture. Food possesses a very strange and beautiful power not just in the Caribbean but throughout the world. It has evolved drastically from being simply a means of sustaining life to a multi-sensorial experience bringing about feelings of pleasure and comfort. My sister came up with the name Bellyful. It is a West Indian term expressing feelings of contentment after a big meal. However, while this blog will be about food it will also be about me, where a full belly represents a full life and food symbolizes milestones or events in my life.

​

Food has always played quite a large role in my family. Sunday lunches offered us a chance every week to sit down as a family and eat an assortment of dishes while in the presence of each other’s company. They offered a platform over which we could discuss issues in the island, such as political, religious, agricultural, you name it! And then there was the food. On being served it would almost immediately calm the heated discussions and keep the noise of screeching children at bay. This would be followed by a slight frenzy as food went onto plates strategically and then by a sweet silence as the array of delicacies were appreciated and passed from plate to mouth. The essence of the term “bellyful” could be seen on all the faces of those who had just partaken in the glorious feast. It could also be heard in the slow and deep sighs or slight snores of contentment that echoed from those sprawled over one piece of furniture to the other.

​

I decided to write this blog because I am entering a very a new phase of my life. I have just finished three years at university and I am making a more permanent move to England: London more specifically. I have struggled with homesickness and anxieties about the future just like any international student planning to move away from home would but I have realised that one thing that has helped me manage it in a major way is getting in the kitchen and making something that entertains all my senses and leaves me with that content feeling I discussed before. Bellyful, the blog, will hopefully be a fun experiment. It will consist of various food-orientated activities, such as the sharing of recipes of my own and the reviewing of recipes and restaurants wherever I am or wherever I go. Ultimately, however, it will be my way of sharing my love for food and its place in a full life.