Kingstonian Avian Thompson with his weekly taste of Jamaica. Rosemary Parkinson, Gleaner Writer
Driving down Bay Street in Barbados last Friday, a sign caught my eye: Kingston 10 - Real Jamaican Food.
Coming to a screeching halt, much to the chagrin of the Bajan drivers behind me and a barrage of expletives of the very guttural kind, I turned rather sharply into the little plaza, my mind racing with thoughts of Jamaica.
My flight into the small cook shop, however, only showed empty chafing dishes bar a scrape of food or two - a grim but indicative good sign. My friend and I were happily treated to a taste of leftover jerk pork (just like Boston) and a lot of chat that included the promise of curried goat if we returned the following day.
Saturday lunchtime could not come fast enough for me. When we returned, the place was chock-a-block with patrons faced squarely by plates of steaming Jamaican fare, the aroma of which brought tears of joy.
Avian Thompson, a handsome young Kingstonian working with Digicel for the last six months, grabbed his mound of 'food' topped with copious amounts of salt fish and announced, "From the time I heard of this place, every Saturday I am here for sure. This is a touch of home." Turning to a table of four I discovered they were Bajans.
Now 'Saturrduh' is pudding and souse day for every Bajan worth his salt in pork. I nosily enquired and was answered: "We love to try out foods from other Caribbean islands and so we are here." How did you know about the food? "I came here yesterday for the same lunch," said one, and with that the lot burst into hearty laughter.
I moved right along to the next table where another Kingstonian, Marie Richards, had this to say: "I love it here. This is as close to anything Jamaican I can get. I came to Barbados about 18 months ago to work. This is great."
Miss Baje in yellow at the previous table, not to be outdone, piped up sharply, a stern look on her face: "But wait. Come here. I am a little upset now. Yu didn't ask us what we thought of the food, you just asked one question, that's all." Expecting the worse from Madame Feisty, whose name I later found out was Patricia, I walked back to her group with many apologies. In as soft a voice as I could muster, I looked directly at her: "So how did you all enjoy the Jamaica food?"
"It was excellent," said my tormentor, bringing more peals of laughter from the lot.
The Jamaican Connection
Kamau Ikechi is a tall, handsome, shy, young man with a broad infectious smile that lights his entire face when it's flashed. This feature alone would melt any hard heart. When asked about his African name, Kamau immediately blushed and explained, "I have gone back to my roots, changing my name to suit my beliefs. Kamau means 'quiet warrior' in Kenyan Kikuyu, Ikechi 'power of God' in Nigerian Ebu." Kamau will need to be a quiet warrior guided by the power of God to keep up with the responsibilities of a restaurant.
"I am a veterinarian by profession but have to get this aspect of my life off the ground, so I am moving to one side with that for the time being. Not giving it up, just moving it into the right perspective. The restaurant comes first, it is my passion. This is what I really want to do."
Kamau met his Bajan wife at University of the West Indies, St. Augustine campus, in Trinidad. "We were good friends before love blossomed." With that Marsha Atherly-Ikechi, clad in apron, stopped her deliveries of food to quickly state: "Kamau is in for a lot of work but this is his dream and I will back him all the way."
The Curry Goat
Copious amounts of delicious curry goat.- photos by Rosemary Parkinson
Steaming hot mounds of aromatic curry goat arrived perched on top of the smoothest yam I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. A piece of cassava (for the Bajan palate) and several perfectly boiled green bananas accompanied it. We passed on the dumplings for the sake of the waist. The curry was absolutely perfect, the Jamaican taste of turmeric coming through in the correct proportion, the spice just right by way of pepper.
Actually, I could smell its flawlessness even before tasting, that's how good it was. I am positive that was no Bajan goat but most definitely an imported Jamaican goat. Me seh, mi could taste de Jamaican grass dat goat nyam, and me nuh care whe nubody seh!
Parting, Kamau said, "I want everyone to know that if you visit Barbados, there's a piece of Jamaica here. Good food. Great company. I even have Appleton and J. Wray & Nephew White Overproof but no Red Stripe. Sadly, no Red Stripe. Barbados no longer has a distributor. It's the best beer and my people keep asking me to bring out de beer and I can't. The rum is there, the food ready. All we need is Red Stripe."
As Kamau finished this sentence, Beenie Man's song could be heard in the background: "Give me di ting dat de doctah order me." Nuff said.
Rosemary Parkinson was last seen in Kingston 10 drinking Baba Roots and mannish water, partaking of jerk rabbit, pork and chicken, oxtail and broad bean with spinners, stew peas and pigtail and more - all in the name of CARICOM.
Kingston 10, Bayside Plaza, Bay Street, Barbados
Open Monday to Saturday, 11:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Phone: 228 9838
The Bajan posse enjoy their meal in the restaurant.
Kamau in the kitchen doing what he loves best.
