Griyo — citrus-marinated pork that’s flash-fried
When Sthara Normil held her first Lakay Zaz pop-up in Richmond in early May, it sold out within hours. Tickets for salted fish patties, whole red snapper and griyo, a citrus-marinated pork that is slow-cooked, flash-fried and served with fried plantains, filled the kitchen window, with some diners peeking in on the chef to converse with her in Haitian Creole.
Sthara Normil, owner of Lakay Zaz
Despite Normil having only a newly established catering business and a humble following on Instagram and Facebook, word traveled, and so did people, with her inaugural event drawing Haitian and Caribbean natives who now live in Arlington, Virginia Beach and Norfolk.
“I didn’t know there was so much Haitian in Richmond,” says Normil, 28. “It was mind-blowing.”
The cuisine of Haiti is based off of what is accessible and readily available on the island — rice, fresh fish, beans, plantains and yams. The food is bold and spice-heavy, a culinary cauldron of colonization, ingredients and cooking styles ranging from African and French to Spanish and Arab.
“As far as what really influences it — everything, we use whatever we have,” Normil says. “The food has so much flavor — there’s the spice, the love and the pride of Haitian people.”
Born in Haiti’s capital city of Port-au-Prince, Normil lived on the gulf island until she was 16.
According to the U.S. Census, America is home to the largest Haitian migrant population in the world, with over a million residents. And while locally there has not been much exposure of the island-inspired cuisine, Normil hopes to change that.
Like many stories, this one is rooted in a matriarch, Normil’s mother, Ritza Normil. A caterer in Haiti and a natural entertainer, her mom’s home was where friends and neighbors flocked to enjoy celebrations, hold family gatherings and feast.
“When we ask people, ‘Hey, what are we doing for the holiday?’ [They say], ‘I’m going to lakay Zaz,’ ” Normil explains. “That means house of Zaz. My mom’s name is Ritza, and her nickname is Zaz. ‘Lakay’ means house of.”
While her mother remains in Haiti, Normil immigrated to Brooklyn in 2012, two years after the devastating earthquake on the island that she describes as the “worst day” of her life. She lived with family and finished high school in Manhattan before relocating to Richmond.
“As far as what really influences [Lakay Zaz] — everything, we use whatever we have. The food has so much flavor — there’s the spice, the love and the pride of Haitian people.” —Sthara Normil
Despite having a dream of attending Le Cordon Bleu cooking school, Normil studied IT. Post-college, she worked as a host and server at restaurants that included O’Charley’s, Golden Corral and The Boathouse, the latter of which found her suggesting dinner specials to the chef on a semiregular basis. Although she held front-of-house positions, cooking remained Normil’s passion, and last year she launched a small catering business, selling mostly Haitian fish patties through Lakay Zaz.
Flaky yet chewy, the square-shaped savory treats are stuffed with fish that’s salted to help preserve them and keep them fresh. Eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner, the patties are requested by Normil’s customers by the dozen.
“That’s a tradition from Africa that we have on the island,” Normil says. “We love our salted fish, especially in the morning with boiled green plantains, avocado and yam.”
Patrons at the Lakay Zaz pop-up in May
At the beginning of the year, Normil began to toy with the idea of a pop-up, sharing her vision with a former Golden Corral co-worker Tiara Black, who took over ownership of Forest Hill’s Eat 66 in February. A friend and a fan of Normil’s food, Black invited her to operate pop-ups from the breakfast-heavy eatery when it was closed.
Twice a month, Normil plans to transport diners to her homeland through Lakay Zaz. Visitors can expect to be greeted with striking tastes, intoxicating smells and the hip-swaying sounds of kompa, traditional Haitian music, while perhaps sipping a little too easily on Rhum Barbancourt, a sugar cane spirit from the island that Normil prepares with mango, pineapple and lime juices, as well as a dash of simple syrup.
“The main thing besides the restaurant pop-up is to bring Haitian culture to Virginia, the food, the music, the goodies, and everything to Virginia, because we don’t have it, and there is a community here in Richmond,” Normil says.
At the core of all Haitian cuisine is epis, a distinct spice blend that’s as ubiquitous as salt and pepper. A combination of garlic, scallion, parsley, onion, thyme, cloves and peppers, it is the piquant plinth that defines the Creole- and Caribbean-tinged food. Fish. Meat. Rice. Soup. It is found everywhere, and in everything.
Top: Pikliz, fried plantains and djon djon rice; Below: Griyo
“It is the base of any Haitian dish,” Normil says. “The difference between Haitian food and the other Caribbean food is the spice we use, epis.”
A dish deeply rooted in Haiti’s identity and found on the menu at Lakay Zaz is a black rice made with mushrooms from northern Haiti called djon djon. A foraged delicacy, the coveted fungi add a rich, earthy depth of flavor, and they are comparable to morels — regionally found, and with a short-lived, yet prominent presence.
The menu also features whole red snapper; phyllo shells stuffed with chiktay moru, a salted codfish in a spicy vinaigrette; and crispy akra, fritters made from the malanga root vegetable. Many of the dishes at Lakay Zaz are served with fried plantains and pikliz, a white-vinegar and lime-spiked condiment of carrots, cabbage, bell peppers and scotch bonnets.
While this is the beginning of Normil’s pop-up journey, she says the excitement surrounding it so far has left her with a warm feeling, one that she wants to continue to experience and share.
“We share our food with our neighbors, always,” says Normil of Haitian culture. “One thing I like when I’m in Haiti is you slow down, take a breath and enjoy life — I want people to do the same with my food.”
