I went to Jamaica with my family when I was about 14 years old. We stayed in an all inclusive, but every now and then we would go out and explore the city. The moment I remember most vividly is when a villager offered to sell me some marijuana. Not only was it the first time I had ever been offered a drug transaction (or drugs for that matter), but it was also shocking considering I still thought I was a child. I guess I was wrong.
Of course I didn’t go through with said purchase, but things would’ve gone a different way if instead of weed, I was offered Curried Goat like the one I had at Bamboula in Brixton. With a distinct smell you could trace from far away, and with a beautiful presentation, this gooey goat was delightful. With some rice and peas, and some plantain on the side, this is the sort of thing I get addicted to.
So yeah. I’m addicted to jamaican food. It was Jerk Chicken a few weeks ago, and now this. I’ll either have to go to rehab soon, or I’ll just have to move to Brixton…
Slimy? I mixed everything right away, so hell yeah!
Satisfying? Now I want EVERYTHING curried