Vanilla trip begins

SAMBAVA, MADAGASCAR -- Dear Fam: I’m up in northeast Madagascar, the world’s best region for growing vanilla. When you walk down the streets in Sambava and Antalaha, the smell of vanilla drying in the tropical sun hits you with a force strong enough to stain your hair and clothes for the day. The smell isn’t everywhere, it just pops out of the windows of the concrete bunkers where workers sort dried beans with the speed and precision of Vegas card dealers. They put beans in various tubs and piles, corresponding to a number of categories: length, color, moisture, weight, texture and, above all, smell. The smell was one of the things that’s surprised me the most about vanilla production … because it’s grows. Opening a bottle of McCormick’s vanilla extract makes you think of cookies and ice cream and summer and such. Dried vanilla smells like raisins. Maybe caramel. And both are kind of alcoholic-moldy.
Once the vanilla is properly dried and sorted (that takes nine months) then it is exported for the most part, to you in the U.S. People here don’t use the stuff.
Wishing you love from a Chinese restaurant that smells like caramel raisins. JOHN

The 5 a.m. pollinator

[9/16/07 IMORONA, Madagascar. Dear Grandma, People here in northeast Madagascar are dedicated, gentle and quick. They have to be to succeed on some of the best vanilla plantations in the world. Six days a week, Séance wakes up at 5 a.m. to pollinate the orchid flowers on vanilla vines. The climb up the side of a steep and misty mountain. He walks for an hour – down a dirt road, down a cool stream and through a rice paddy – to get there. In Malagasy, the name of the mountain means “rising sound of moving water.” (Lots of names here are cool and literary). But no time to ponder that now, I’m worn our from following Séance all morning, and I think I’m going to take a nap. People here – just like in Oklahoma – are so proud and hard-working. Darting around the hills to pollinate flowers is just the first of Séance’s several jobs, and he lives in a bamboo hut that’s just barely bigger than a king-size mattress. I’m doing my best to learn from everyone here … Hope you’re doing well. Love, John]

Vanilla beans are just strung-out raisins

[9/7/07 SAMBAVA, Madagascar. Dear Fam: I’m up in northeast Madagascar, the world’s best region for growing vanilla. When you walk down the streets of Sambava and Antalaha, the smell of vanilla drying in the tropical sun hits you with a force strong enough to stain your hair and clothes for the day. The smell isn’t everywhere, it just pops out of the windows of concrete bunkers where workers sort dried beans with the speed and precision of Vegas card dealers. They put beans in various tubs and piles that correspond to important categories for beans: length, color, moisture, weight, texture and – above all – smell. The smell was one of the things that surprised me most about vanilla production … because it’s gross. Opening a bottle of McCormick’s vanilla extract makes you think of cookies and ice cream and summers. Dried vanilla, to me, smells like raisins. Once the vanilla is properly dried and sorted (no easy feat, and one that takes nine months) then it is exported, mostly to the U.S. People don’t use the stuff here. … Wishing you love from a Chinese restaurant (where I’m writing this) that smells like raisins. –JOHN]

(image caption: negative image … beans are black and the tie is usually a palm frond)