A thick cloud of white smoke rose from the white pan, to his face, causing him to squint. He grabbed a long fork from a saucer with water on the table in front of him and started poking at pieces of meat on the grille. He chuckled as he flipped the meat. "Nobady chicken nuh sweet like dis yah! Even if yuh search di whole country, yuh naah go find nuh chicken sweet like mine," he said.

Bucky the pan chicken man has become well known by chicken connoisseurs islandwide and his little chicken shack on Red Hills Road in St. Andrew is the place to be on Friday and Saturday nights when the area transforms into a hot spot for chicken jerking activities.

'Me originate pan chicken'

"Dem yah young bway what coming up nowadays, dem nuh know bout chicken. Dem ongle hear bout chicken. Is me originate pan chicken inna dem place yah! Dem need fi go school go study bout me!" he said. Now as you can tell, there was more than a hint of arrogance in Bucky's monologue. But hey, after selling chicken to customers on that stretch of road for close to 30 years, I guess he's entitled to gloat a bit.

I was standing with him early on a Saturday evening when all the jerk chicken men were getting ready for the night's expected crowd. They were scattered all along the roadway, easily spotted because of the smoke coming from their pans. A sound system was strung up on the outside of a small bar and local music with a particularly heavy bass line helped create a festive atmosphere. Bucky's pan was positioned directly under a streetlight, so the yellow glow of the light made his eyes glisten.

"Every Friday night and Saturday night we come out here, mi bredda. We sell quarter chicken, half chicken and even di whole chicken if you want it. If you want di quarter, is $250 fi it," he said. Bucky was moving quickly as he spoke, turning chicken on the roughly made grille. I asked him about the pan. "Is one a di regular oil drum dem we get and cut it inna two and weld on two foot pan it. After dat den we build a grille and we nice. After dat den we just get some charcoal and we ready fi start."

Traffic blocking

Right then, a red sedan pulled up to the sidewalk and a fair-skinned man with wavy grey hair poked his head out the passenger side window. "Mi can get two quarter?" he said. The driver of the car kept looking up at his rear view mirror and drivers coming down the roadway behind him were getting more than a bit annoyed with the obstruction.

"Pull off a di road if you want chicken nuh man! You caan stop inna di miggle a di road!" One irate motorist yelled. But the driver of the obstructing car stayed put. "Tek you back side outa di road!" Another person shouted. Bucky seemed to be moving at lightning speed and the man with the wavy grey hair seemed dazzled by the display. Bucky's hands chopped and groomed the chicken with impressive dexterity. He got the different pieces together and wrapped them in foil and ran over to the car. He collected the money from the grey-haired man and the car finally drove off. Much to the relief of many a peeved motorist.

Bucky walked back over to me, counting the money he had just collected. "Around 1975 mi start jerk chicken pan dis road. Dem time deh it was me alone. Me first come here. From dem time deh people just love my chicken and di thing start get famous! After dat, everybody start sell chicken here. People know Red Hills Road as a place fi get good chicken pan a weekend, but dem nuh realise dat I am the original," he said.

The music coming from the nearby sound system got louder and a few barely dressed women appeared as if from nowhere. They started to rotate their bodies to the sound of the music with alarming ease, much to the delight of the bar-hopping men nearby.

'Buying or what'

Pan chicken vendors have sprung up all over the country, but Red Hills Road in St. Andrew is perhaps the most popular spot for chicken on weekends. - file

A shorter fellow walked up to me. "Hello man. You buying chicken or you just a tek up space? Di rest a we want fi get food too you know!" he said.

I stepped out of the way and the man proceeded to place his order. "One leg and thigh, no ketchup," said he. Bucky went back into action and quickly put the man's order together. After a quick monetary transaction, the hungry chicken-lover walked away. Bucky tucked the money he collected into his apron.

"Sometime we sell bout 80 quarter on a Saturday night. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It all depends on rain and dem ting deh," he said.

Lives comfortably

I asked him whether he was able to live comfortably on the money he makes from selling chicken. "Oh yes man. People buy the chicken a lot you know. We don't use powder seasoning, so it taste really nice. Strictly natural flavour," he said with a smile.

By now, the area was a lot more crowded than when I first got there. There were several people standing around with pieces of foil in their hands. The music was creating a stir and all the pan chicken men seemed to be doing brisk business. By now Bucky had little time to converse, so I bid him goodbye and was off. It was a bit of a struggle to get away though, as by now there was a line of people waiting to to get some of the famous Red Hills Road pan chicken.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com