Jamaican Jerk Seasoning
We ran out of Jamaican jerk seasoning over the weekend, so I had to dash out and replenish it only to find that the local Caribbean grocery store had only HOT, no mild on the shelves.
I’m not from Jamaica, that’s why I’m scared of HOT. My tongue is not used to it. Same thing with Indian food, they ask you if you want HOT or mild curry. I couldn’t buy HOT, so I ended up buying brands I had never bought before, just because they were labeled, MILD. This brings me to the authenticity of food.
I love Greek food.
I miss grits and other Southern food.
Let’s have Chinese take-away tonight.
Hey! Let’s have Indian curry instead of fish and chips on Friday.
He took me to an Italian restaurant.
He proposed to me at a classy French restaurant.
The jerk seasoning I wanted has its roots in a country Jamaica. Food is indigenous to the soil and weather conditions. It changes its DNA once it enters a boat, a ship or a plane. Food with a country therefore adapts to where it lands. One boy from Jamaica put it succinctly. I forget the name of the podcast but he said something like: the worst cooks in Jamaica are the best compared to the best restaurants in Toronto.
It’s something we forget when eating out. When food leaves the land of its birth, it no longer deserves a country label. It becomes a compromise. Even the tongue adjusts.
“Do you want HOT or MILD?”
“MILD please.”
Nonqaba waka Msimang
Blogger Without Borders
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