plate 51: jamaica

Summer's in the air and sunshine's in the sky ... well that was until New South Wales decided to have a quick change of heart, turn cold and even snow in Thredbo. It's December - damn you summer! Before the cold snap took hold and warm weather was soothingly embracing us, and with holidays within easy grasp, my mind meandered into island life. Which is where Jamaica comes in, mon.

Perusing recipes on Sunday at 8am, mouth parched by yelling Bon Jovi songs at his concert the night before, many an idea appealed (although I always wake up ravenous). The chosen ones ended up being jerk chicken with a side of rice and peas. Jerk is a fiery-hot rub (wet or dry) for chicken or meat that you massage in prior to cooking.

This recipe called for onions, garlic, ginger, chilli paste, chilli sauce, cinnamon, nutmeg (mouth watering yet?), allspice, orange juice, lime juice and rind, a bit of brown sugar and Jamaica's equivalent to Italy's love of basil - thyme.

Making the paste was fine. Cooking the chicken was not so fine. The recipe I used instructed to roast the chook, but I wanted a more authentic smoky taste from the barbecue. So in the glass baking dish it went and onto the barbie. Five minutes later: "CRACK". Oops - a shattered baking dish. Should've known better, but clearly didn't. After a thorough inspection of the chicken, making sure it hadn't been studded with shards of glass, into the oven it went. Not putting glass on a barbecue: noted.

While the chicken safely cooked, I set to work on the rice and peas, which apparently no Jamaican home goes without on a Sunday evening. You'd think cooking rice in a bit of coconut milk with black-eyed peas (used as a substitute for gungo peas - Jamie Oliver told me to) would be easy. But no. I put it down to the Americans. Sorry, I don't mean to offend anyone, but I want to know why there are three different ingredients called pepper: capsicum, chilli and the spice?? Rather annoying when you're trying to follow a recipe that calls for whole pepper. Carefully I chopped up my capsicum and threw it in with the peas and coconut milk, only to realise a little late in the piece that what they meant was chilli. So I started fishing out bits of green capsicum that bobbed up and down, almost cheekily appearing and disappearing under the milky-white surface, mocking me.

Fed up of scooping out bits of capsicum I decided to leave them in there. So it wouldn't be traditional, but at least it'd taste OK, right?

So with the half-barbecued half-roasted chicken cooked and the rice and peas somewhat salvaged, we sat down to eat. Not bad, not bad at all. The chicken had a delightful kick without being overbearing (and actually did have a slightly charred flavour from its limited time on the barbecue), and the subtle sweetness and creamy texture of the rice made for a pretty nice meal. An idea for the leftover chicken: make a Jamaican-style chicken burger. Spread some bread with mayo or aioli, top it with the chicken and a slice of cheese.