Jerk, Freedom, and Fusion: Rasta Pasta

Alexandria Fuller

Contributor

The first taste of Rasta pasta is like stepping into two worlds at once: the fiery allure of the Caribbean and the comfort of an Italian kitchen. Fusion dishes like jerk chicken pasta are delicious reminders that food never stands still. Ingredients travel, cultures mix, and flavors cross oceans to collide into some of our most personally cherished comfort foods. And just like that, you’re blinking away tears while grinding down peppers for a dish that has an unapologetic kick, but a creamy sauce that soothes your tongue just enough to seduce you into another bite.

Jerk chicken pasta may be an invention of the modern world, but its history is even richer than its taste, yet far less appetizing when you really get to digesting it.

Ingredients

• 2-3 scotch bonnet peppers (habaneros are an acceptable substitute)
• 1-1.5 lb. chicken breasts (2-3 pcs)
• 1 tbsp soy sauce
• 1 tbsp white vinegar
• 1 tbsp avocado oil
• 6 green onion stalks
• 4 garlic cloves (large)
• 1 tbsp flour
• 1 teaspoon chicken bouillon
• 5 cups heavy cream
• 10-20 thyme sprigs
• 1⁄4 cup parmesan
• 1 cup mozzarella cheese
• 1 box penne pasta (400-500 g)
• 1 red bell pepper (small)
• 1 orange bell pepper (small)
• 1 green bell pepper (small)

Jerk Seasoning Mix

• 1 tbsp onion powder
• 1 tbsp garlic powder
• 2 tsp cayenne pepper
• 2 tsp salt
• 2 tsp ground black pepper
• 2 tsp dried thyme (or use 1 tsp ground thyme)
• 2 tsp sugar (white or brown)
• 1 tsp ground allspice
• 1 tsp dried parsley
• 1 tsp smoked paprika
• 1 tsp ground ginger
• 1/2 tsp hot pepper flakes
• 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp ground clove
• 1/4 tsp ground cumin

The “jerk” in jerk seasoning actually refers to the method of cooking meat—it originates from the Quechuan word charqui, which is the precursor to the modern-day jerky. This method, implemented to aid in the survival of escaped enslaved Africans, later dubbed Maroons, transformed tough cuts of meat into tender, succulent dishes. Layering on a mix of bird pepper, salt, and allspice, they’d wrap their wild game in pepper elder leaves and slowly cook them over the embers of pimento wood. However, one plume of smoke could be enough to reveal their locations, risking being discovered by the plantations they had freed themselves from. In an act of preservation, they used underground, smokeless pits to conceal their efforts to sustain themselves. Once they had preserved all their food by smoking it, they were back on the move to find a new camping ground. Jamaican Jerk is an expression of freedom in the face of adversity—it’s a protest of oppression.

Instructions

1. Using the listed measurements, combine your herbs and spices in a bowl to make the jerk seasoning mix. Mix until blended well and divide in half. Don’t worry about being precise; it will all come together in the end.

1. Take the peppers and pound them into a paste using a mortar and pestle; do not blend them. If you prefer a milder dish, remove the seeds before grinding them down.

1. Mince green onion whites and set aside the green tops in slices for garnish. Dice bell peppers into bite-sized pieces, then peel and mince garlic cloves.

1. Cube chicken into bite-sized pieces and add to a bowl. Season chicken with half of the pepper paste, 2 tbsp minced green onion, 1 tbsp white vinegar, 1 tbsp soy sauce, 1 tbsp avocado oil, and half of the jerk seasoning mix. Mix until the chicken is well coated, and marinate in the fridge for at least 10 minutes or several hours to allow the flavors to soak in.

Jamaican jerk spice blends, dry or wet, pack a bold punch that is undeniably potent and spicy. Sitting down with a halved chicken coated with this blend and served alongside a bowl of Caribbean rice and peas is an experience I’d adamantly invite anyone to try. It also wouldn’t hurt to pair it with a good rum, for authenticity, of course. Flavors like these are impossible to package and sell on the shelf or freezer section of your local grocery store. At least not without watering down the pungency of smoke, scotch bonnet pepper, and allspice that Jamaican jerk is best known for.

1. Grate parmesan and mozzarella and set aside for later.

1. Take a large pan and set it over medium-high heat. Add 1 tbsp of neutral oil and let it heat up before adding the marinated chicken, cooking for 8-10 minutes until golden. Remove the chicken and set it aside. There is no need to ensure the chicken is cooked thoroughly, as it will continue to cook in the cream sauce later.

1. In the same pan, add 1 tbsp of oil on medium-high heat, sauté bell peppers for 4-5 minutes until they are slightly charred and softened, yet still al dente. Lightly salt the peppers and remove from the pan.

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil, salting it generously once it reaches a rolling boil. Add in pasta and cook al dente according to box instructions. Reserve 1/4 cup of pasta water before draining, in case the sauce needs to be thinned later. You may not put it to use, but it is good to have on hand.

1. In the same pan used to cook the chicken and bell peppers, add 2 tbsp of oil and heat to medium-high. Once heated, add in the remaining minced green onion, habanero pepper paste, and minced garlic. Sauté 2-3 minutes until softened and fragrant.

I’ll not begin to claim this dish as authentic Jamaican cuisine; we’ve already strayed far away with the addition of pasta. Americanization of food is a familiar habit for us all. Whether it is because the ingredients are hard to come by, or rather, a part of the dish is not as widely favored, we alter things to our taste and accessibility. You can do this appropriately, or you could butcher and bastardize it beyond recognition.

To truly make Jamaican jerk chicken or pork, marinating the meat overnight and smoking it over pimento wood is essential. When seasoning the meat, if you can still see bare meat, you’re doing it wrong; add more.

1. Sprinkle in flour and stir, cooking for about 1 minute on medium heat.

1. Pour in heavy cream, whisking out any flour clumps. Add the chicken bouillon and the remaining jerk seasoning mix. Whisk until thoroughly combined.

1. Add in thyme sprigs and let the sauce gently simmer for 3-4 minutes until slightly thickened. Then reduce the heat to low and cover for an additional 8-10 minutes.

1. Remove thyme sprigs and add in the bell peppers and chicken, along with their juices, back in. Mix and let simmer on medium-low for 8-10 minutes.

1. Taste the sauce and adjust salt and pepper as needed. If a thinner sauce is desired, adjust the consistency with the reserved pasta water, or skip this step for a thicker, creamier consistency.

1. Reduce the heat to medium-low and add the parmesan and mozzarella, mixing until they are melted and combined.

1. Add in the cooked pasta and toss together. Garnish with green onion tops and black pepper, if desired.

I had my first encounter with Jamaican food on a spring day in New York City.

On the corner of East 7th Street and Avenue A was Miss Lily’s, a rum bar that beckoned to me like a siren.

Stepping inside was like walking into a kaleidoscope. The turquoise and black checkered floor sent my eyes downward, while the striped ceiling pulled them right back up. Despite the clash of patterns in the room, it was not chaotic in the slightest; everything worked harmoniously together.

I took a seat at the wood-paneled retro bar and requested the jerk chicken to be sat on the glossy countertop in front of me. The flavorful skin of the bird gave way to the juicy flesh within. So many herbs and spices, and not a single one was overshadowed by the other. A sweet, spicy, savory meal that had me more than satisfied. If I had the stomach for it I would’ve had their ox tail stew or curried goat for dessert.

While I ate, I absorbed more of the atmosphere. Every surface had character: album covers and posters adorned the patterned walls, and the recurring reds and yellows gave the place a Caribbean soul. The air was infused with the scents of spice, rum, and the thump of reggae, while the lively groups inside created a collective hum of voices as they indulged in all three. Time could easily slip away from you, just like another round of drinks in a place like this.

If you ever find yourself in the East Village of New York, maybe stop by Miss Lily’s and treat your taste buds to a little taste of the Caribbean.