Barbecue, Jamaican Style Scotchie's Too, Ocho Rios "Try mi jerk," the gold-toothed chef hailed from his smoker.
Its blackened top held a king's chest of 'que, Jamaican style. Jamaican jerk is far more than an island dish, it is a lifestyle. From
the bustling capital of Kingston to the beach bars of the tourist-filled
North Coast, Jamaican barbecue--internationally known as jerk-- weaves
a smoky web across the Caribbean's third-largest island, uniting residents
in a common cause: a quest for the island's top 'que. Barbecue is no newcomer to the Caribbean. In fact, it was the native
Arawak Indians who, by many accounts, gave us the word barbecue. These
early Caribbean residents built green stick grills upon which they placed
meats, covered in leaves. When the Spanish arrived in the Caribbean islands,
they modified the native word to barbacoa. Thanks to island spices, Jamaica puts its own special twist on barbecue
to create jerk. The meat--pork, chicken, or fish--is marinated with a
fiery mixture of spices including Scotch bonnet (a pepper that makes a
jalapeño taste like a marshmallow), pimento or allspice, nutmeg,
escallion, and thyme. It's all served with even more hot sauce, a rice
and bean dish known as rice and peas, and a wonderful bread called festival.
Jerk is the best known Jamaican cooking style and certainly one of the
most tasty, a fiery food for those looking for spicy and plenty of it.
Most agree that modern Jamaican jerk originated in the 1930s along Boston
Beach, east of Port Antonio. Here the first roadside (or wayside) stands
sprang up offering tasty jerk served in a super casual atmosphere. Today
jerk stands are everywhere on the island but many aficionados still return
to Boston Beach for the "real thing." The beginning of jerk dates back far before Boston Beach, however. We've
run across many theories as to the origin of jerk: *Jerk comes from the Spanish word charqui, jerked or dried meat. However it started, the practice of preparing jerk was first recorded
in 1698 by a French priest named Pêre Labat. He wrote of a jerk
pit made with four forked sticks with crosspieces across these, then covered
with a grill made of sticks. On the grill was placed a whole pig, stuffed
with lime juice, salt and pimento. Those spices helped preserve the meat
in the hot climate. On previous trips, we had explored the island's many jerk pits, from
beachside pits to elegant restaurants serving the specialty in all its
fiery goodness. This trip, however, we were centering our 'que quest in the community
of Montego Bay, the heart of the island's tourism industry. Our trip coincided
with a special event that brought barbecue buffs from around the world. The cookoff , held for several years in Montego Bay, drew teams from
around the globe, each flying the flags of their home country and lending
their own cooking styles to their interpretation of barbecue and jerk.
Through the smoky haze, we discovered some fellow Texans: Craig and Cyndi
Barton of the Austin Spice Company. Winners of over 100 previous awards
for their salsas, dry rubs, and marinades, the couple decided to enter
the competition. "There are so many folks here who really know their stuff,"
pointed out Cyndi as Craig basted the chicken. "There's a lot of
international interest in European and US barbecuing styles. We've talked
with a lot of the competitors. Barbecue is exotic to them in the same
way jerk was exotic to us." Along with international teams, many local chefs enter the competition,
vying for titles in categories which included fish (red snapper), chicken,
pork roast, pork ribs, and barbecue sauces. "The world knows how popular Jamaican reggae is and how it has spread
through the world," says John Nalewicki, spokesperson for the Sunset
Beach Resort. "Jamaican food should be just as popular." The cookoff grounds took on a small town festival atmosphere but with
a distinct island style. A tent shaded a local domino tournament, its
intent players slapping each domino down to the table with a decidedly
Caribbean flair. Children lined up for shaved ice. Woodcarvers sold their
wares beneath a tall cotton tree, catching a quick nap in the afternoon
heat as sales slowed. As the day wore into evening, it was time to leave the cookoff, the final
prizes distributed. We headed back down the beach, the last rays of red
light making it easy to see how this resort got its name. The last rays of the day brought us both an almost glum feeling. Our
days of the cookoff were done. We'd sampled the barbecue and jerk of some
of the world's best teams. Our quest was done. We took a seat at the beach bar to catch the final glow of the sunset
and ordered a drink. "Would you like some jerk?" This short
order grill offered primarily grilled cheese and hot dogs so we didn't
expect much. "OK." We toasted our day of 'que and sat down to sample one last plateful.
Bathed in dark brown sauce that hinted of pimento, the chicken was some
of the best we had tasted. Quickly, the small portion was gone. Clearing off the tables after a day of beach traffic, a passing waiter
offered to take our plate. There were still a promising few morsels remaining,
though. "Wait, we've got a little more! This is great jerk." The closing day suddenly looked a little brighter. We may have tasted
some of the best the world had to offer, but, in Jamaica, every turn is
another chance to make a new discovery.
1/4 cup brown sugar Combine all ingredients. |
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