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Why are those Jamaican
animals such sons-of-bitches? I mean you have your jerk chicken, jerk
goat... What? Oh, shit, I'm a moron. I'm sorry. I've just been alerted
to the fact by my pal Beenie Man that "jerk" refers to the spices
that the food is cooked in, not the personality of the creature itself.
Sorry, I'm like sooooooooo white. And, unlike most of my drunken,
white brethren, I never jumped off the balcony of my Negril hotel
into the pool with a full bottle of Red Stripe in my hand and a big
Marks-A-Lot smile drawn on my ass. So, you can imagine that I made
a bad face when coming across the curried goat on the menu. Don't
those things eat tin cans and used condoms out of the garbage? Even
the power of curry ain't gonna cover that up. I went the safe route
and ordered spiced fowl. I must admit that the stuff was damn tasty.
It had just the right tenderness, toothiness and bite. All the black
famous folks on the wall--some of whom I recognized, and some whom
I didn't--seemed pleased with their meals as well. The tiny, red dining
room with the two fancy oil paintings of some Caribbean bay was also
a warm reminder of the islands and the mellow waft of the Jamaican
breeze. Or whatever, the whole place could smell like sewage for all
I know; I've still never been there. I may never make it back to Caribbean
Spice either, but it will always be my true island home. [MF]
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