Ever since I got back from Jamaica, I’ve been feeling some kind of way. Not only do I miss the beach and the music, but I miss the food. More specifically, the glorious, smoky goodness that is jerk chicken. I came home feenin’ for some island food. And I just knew with the melting pot that is our nation’s capital, we would have some good stuff here. I thought wrong.
I tried these three spots to no avail:
Despite its reputation, their food is just OK. The rice & peas was similar to what I had in Jamaica, but the chicken is dry, overcooked and comes with way too much sauce. The jerk chicken I had in Jamaica didn’t even come with sauce unless you requested it. The plantains were way too sweet for my taste. The only thing memorable about my meal at Negril was the rum cake. It was moist and just sweet enough with a touch of rum. It was so good, I’d go back just to get some more cake. They can have the rest.
Naby’s Island Restaurant
I can’t believe this place actually qualifies as a restaurant. I got some jerk wings, rice & peas and coco bread. And some Ting. The jerk wings tasted like some frozen Tyson BBQ wings baked in the oven with some pepper on it. The rice & peas tasted like they’d been sitting out for a week. Ugh. The only thing that was remotely edible was the bread and the Ting. And then, they have the nerve to offer delivery!
This place wasn’t even on my radar until they tweeted me after I complained about not being able to find a good Jamaican restaurant in DC. They serve the healthy version of everything, so it’s not exactly authentic but my jerk chicken meal was pretty tasty. It’s a tiny space in SE DC, but I was able to sit at the counter to hear some reggae music. Great customer service, too!
While Negril and Pimento were okay as a quick fix, they couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. It was like buying a knockoff when you don’t have money for the name brand.
Sort of like men.
If given the choice between Mr. Right and Mr. Right Now, most women would choose Mr. Right, I think. The problem is that most of us don’t have that choice. Most of us are dealing with Mr. Right Nows.
I mean, look at me.
All the men I’ve dated since the rocket scientist have been just okay. They were nice guys. We had a good time on our dates. But the passion wasn’t there. That “click” didn’t exactly happen. That “thing” just didn’t materialize.
Which is too bad, because when I do find that thing? Hell, I’m willing to go all the way to Jamaica to get it.
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On my list!
Try Taste of Jamaica on H Street
Try Taste of Jamaica on H Street
On my list!