Rosemary Parkinson, Contributor
Last week, I attended a simple celebration of the crossing of Donnie Nembhard, father of Brian Nembhard and Dian Nembhard. Brian is an accomplished wine connoisseur in New York now making waves, copping the distributorship for Tru Juice and Red Label Wine, in search of 'great' Caribbean food products for the huge United States niche. Dian lives, teaches and designs in Miami, promoting Jamaica with colourful wraps and inimitable styles.
Brian's wife, Annie Maragh, owns and runs Linstead Beverages and Wholesale - from where Brian's best imported wines are quietly sold. It was at the family home, within the rolling hills of their small orange grove, that family and friends gathered after the interment.
They partook of huge pots of bubbling chicken soup, brown stew pork, sizzling fried chicken that balanced over open wood fires vying for position with pan chicken marinated in a sauce guarded like a mother hen by one 'Waynee'. Not a morsel was left behind.
Layers of 'file'-plated food left for places unknown once enough was consumed on property, a 'must' in the Jamaican culture - something I've never experienced elsewhere but continues to fascinate. I have now watched as foil moves through christenings, birthday parties, weddings and funerals!
Waking the following morning to that fine cool misty air that covers Linstead, the smell of wood fires wafted yet again. Like a bloodhound on a hunt, I followed my nose to the outdoor 'cooking hut' where I was greeted with a glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice. Little did I suspect, as I sat underneath the zinc roof, near the fire, on a tree trunk that covers as a source of fuel or a makeshift bench, that this breakfast would yet again unfold a Jamaican story.
PURE GOLD IS HEARD
Confession time. I never knew ackee flesh had a pink 'sumting' that must be removed. I always took for granted that once de ackee open, de black seed removed, dat is all there was to it. I had only ever purchased ackee already picked. Ackee - you learn by cleaning it - and so performing this task patiently with Mark Burey, our breakfast cook, idle chat informed that the haunting voice behind the Fiesta remix by Stone Love, popular around 2002, and the sweet conscious music now being belted out from the small CD player was none other than 14K, Mark Burey and 14K being one and the same.
"Me no bad mind, me no grudgeful, me no envy, me wait on my time." Lyrics that told of strife, of being burned by the greed of producers, of hope and dreams, the struggle that creative people travel before the final success were this young man's story.
Breadfruit was placed to roast and I asked why 14K? "My first producer Stone Love said me had a voice like pure gold, so he named me." As the ackee and salt fish - the latter straight from the bag - was placed in a dutchie, topped with water and put on the fire to boil, 14K continued: "Since a young boy me always singing at my compound. After my schooling, me work at the bauxite plant, friends pressure me to take my voice seriously. Soon, I was in Stone Love studio voicing demos, then 45s.
"When Fiesta hit, me tour England, Belgium, Switzerland and France with a Belgian producer. De people dem love what dey hear. You see conscious music is reggae, is culture, positive vibes. I like to mix that with love songs and soft dancehall. Music dat inspire de youth dem to love and not fight each other."
Turning the two breadfruit that sizzled on the fire, "Dis ready now, you know how when roast breadfruit ready? You put the big knife through, if it go all de way, it good." After my ackee blunder, I was all ears for tips. As a re-mix of Ordinary People by John Legend began to play (sweeter than the original) and holding the blackened breadfruit in a cloth, 14K began to systematically peel same, explaining the method. I dared not inform I had performed this act several times.
A PLATINUM BREAKFAST AS THE RESULT
Another clean pot on the fire, the coconut oil within hot, the remaining wood removed to keep the temperature down, scallion, onion, garlic, a 'tups' of chopped scotch bonnet added, more lyrics filled the air: "I am waiting my turn, there's so much to learn, my God I am so concerned, every day my pocket burn."
14K drained the water from the ackee dutchie, removing the salt fish for scaling and picking. I began to sense a back-ah-yard scene in Trench Town when a young Bob Marley impressed around a similar wood fire, pots bubbling with porridge. As if my thoughts were spoken out loud, 14K said, his eyes twinkling: "Marley is an inspiration, the world love him, every Jamaican with a conscience love him." The ackee and saltfish cooked to perfection, removed from the fire and drained, another tip was forthcoming: "You can't cook ackee too long or it get too mushy. Ackee must be left nice and whole."
Bending over the fish, removing its skin simultaneously, the song Charlene filled the air: "Woke up this morning from the letter that she wrote, she says she's tired and I am always being on the road, she needs somebody she can hold ..." his face serious as though reminded of a time past, he continued: "I am in the studio day and night hoping to get a number one before year end. True. All these hard years in the business will not be for nothing. It was good. Me learn lessons. You can't make it without trouble and strife, it give strength, and if you don't have dat, you not supposed to be in this here. Everything come with time."
Placing the saltfish first, then the ackee into the seasonings on the fire, "Look my brethren Brian, he helping me to do things business-like. He see my talent. I have music out there. Unleash The Dragon, Never Let Dem, Step Into The Frontline and some re-mix. Now I only write and sing my own original tracks putting down all at Computer Paul studio. No more wickedness from producers that have my work and nah pay. My turn is now."
As he cuts a freshly picked avocado, slices the tomato and begins the procedure of plating the breakfast, another song, hits the air "It's a waste of time, without Jah on your mind." and the sweetest of breakfast is served as the sun begins to flicker through the fruit trees.
