We call it Chip-chip Sugar Cake but in Jamaica, they are Coconut Drops.
There is something downright homey that gets to you when you eat homemade sugar cake, especially the type made with coconut that has been roughly chopped into bits. Bold with flavour of ginger, yet not overpowering, this sweet treat is a taste of home across the region, regardless of what name you call it.
Sugar cake always seems easy to make, after all, the ingredients are few, you essentially need only 3 – coconut, sugar, and some sort of spice flavouring. The lot is cooked until the coconut cooks through, softened; the sugar melted and reached a stage that when cooled, the coconut will bind together in either small mounds or flat disks depending on how you like it. It’s candy making at its finest. It’s simple, honest food. Getting the balance right is not always easy though, knowing just the right amount of sugar to put to not make it cloyingly sweet and the perfect amount of flavouring that it does not overwhelm. Finally, cooking the mixture that’s best judged by the eye when it is ready to be removed from the heat.
The other day I was watching reruns of Food Network’s Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. The host visited a Jamaican restaurant where they served the usual Jamaican fare of rice and peas, oxtail stew etc. The owner of the eatery said that on the weekends she makes Coconut Drops and that they are gone in no time. The American customers were exclaiming they had never eaten something so “beautiful”, describing the taste. By the end of the show, I was craving Sugar cake, ahem, I mean Coconut Drops.
While I always have fresh grated coconut in the freezer, I don’t always have dried coconuts. But guess what? That day I did! What were the chances?
I set about cracking the coconut and prying the flesh from the hard shell then chopping it up into thin, small pieces. Into a pot went the coconut, lots of fresh grated ginger, sugar, a little water and a pinch of salt to balance things. The mixture bubbled and frothed as the sugar melted. I reduced the heat and let it cook down until the mixture thickened and the coconut started to take on the rich caramel hues of the brown sugar. After giving the mixture a vigorous stir, I dropped it by the spoonful on an oiled sheet pan. The aroma in the kitchen was sweet and truly lovely.
Unable to wait, I ate one of the Coconut Drops while it was still warm (I love soft set sugar cake). For the record, it hardened as it cooled completely. It has been years since I have eaten Sugar cake and tasting it after all this time was something special. Apart from the childhood memories, it felt like a comfortable hug, the long lingering kind that’s full of genuine affection and fondness. The chew of the coconut offered time to think, the ginger made me shake my head in wonderment and the sweetness, well, that brought everything together, literally, and figuratively. I shared the Coconut Drops with my snow-bird neighbour from England and in doing so I set myself up to be asked in less than two days of receiving them, “Cynthia, when next are you making Coconut Drops? Girl, those things are lovely! I ain’t shame to ask.”
It really does the heart, mind, body, soul, and spirit good to feed it. When last you had a homemade Sugar cake/Coconut drop? What about a Sugar roti or a Sugar apple?
Have a wonderful weekend!
Cynthia
