Jerk Seasoning and Jerk Pork or Chicken, or, Why I Miss Jamaica

It is a seasoning, a way of cooking, and results in a delicious gravy, but it is not a sauce.

It is a process.When done right it is absolutely delicious. It is difficult to recreate in a kitchen, but I have done it many times and I will explain how I do it below.

First, I must credit the seasoning to a Jerk Master who works in Jamaica. The first bite I ever had of this jerk chicken, I was on the beach, with your dad, and after a day of swimming, this was the perfect thing. I just love that your father can handle his pepper.

This Jerk Master would hook us up and cover the chicken with gravy. I used to buy seasoning from him every time I went to visit, but no one knows where he is anymore. This is his recipe, and while I guard it, I share it with those who will do it justice. So to my babies, I hope one day you will enjoy the spicier side of life and try to make this for those you love. Maybe this is TMI, but jerk anything is a key to the heart. Use this to make anyone fall in love with you.

Here is the seasoning and recipe. Tread carefully. Seriously. Put on some gloves or something. You don't want to touch your eyes after making this.

I believe this is the guy who made the best jerk, and these are the barrels he cooked on.

Jerk Seasoning 

Garlic		1 head / 12 cloves
Onion		3 medium, diced
Green Onion		4 stalks
Scotch Bonnet		6-8 peppers
Ginger (fresh)		1 knob (2")
Soy Sauce		1/4 cup
Brown Sugar		1/4 cup
Thyme		10 stalks (strip the leaves)
Canola Oil		1/4 cup
Caramel/Browning (Grace)		2 tbsp
Allspice		8 berries (freshly ground)
Black Pepper		2 tbsp (freshly ground)
Cinnamon		1/2 tsp (freshly ground)
Nutmeg (allergy optional!)		1/2 tsp (freshly ground)

Jerk Seasoning Preparation:

1. Roughly chop all the ingredients for the seasoning.
2. Throw all the ingredients to a blender. If your blender is not glass, it will hold the scent and flavour of these ingredients. Also, a food processor will do just fine if that's what you prefer.
3. In a saucepan, cook down the mixture on a very low simmer for about 40 minutes to an hour. 
4. Continuously check and stir, make sure it hasn't scorched. Once scorched, you cannot recover and it will always taste 'burned'.
5. Jar the excess and keep in the fridge. You will use it up before it can ever go bad, but in the fridge it should keep for about a year.

Jerk Recipe (Pork or Chicken) Preparation:

1. Wash all your meat (I use pork shoulder, most people use chicken).
2. Pat the meat dry and take out the days aggression by stabbing it repeatedly. This is what makes jerk jerk. You are creating pockets for deliciousness.
3. In a produce bag, place the meat and the seasoning. For each pound of meat I add one cup of seasoning.
4. Remove the air and tie the bag, massaging the seasoning into the meat so that it is entirely coated.
5. Rest the meat in the fridge. Overnight is preferred, but a few hours will do. You will be happy if you give it the full day to marinate. 
6. Let the meat come to room temperature before cooking. If it is summer and you can grill outside, this is the best and most authentic way to enjoy! 
7. If it is winter, raining, or you are not in the mood for outdoor grilling, do this in the oven. Set the oven for 330 (pork shoulder) or 370 (chicken or fish).
8. Put the meat in a roasting dish and in the oven, 2 hours for the pork shoulder and 45 minutes for the chicken.
9. For the pork shoulder, after 2 hours, crank the heat up to 380 for another 20-30 minutes until the meat starts to colour nicely.
10. Take the meat out and test for doneness... let it rest to redistribute the juices. This should be about 15 minutes.
11. Slice before serving. Some like it on rice or with hard dough bread, but I eat it just so! Oh, and you can thicken the cooking liquid (be sure to drain off the fat!) to serve as the gravy.
12. I recommend a cold beer. Red Stripe if you can get it. Enjoy!

Trini Green Seasoning

Neither of you had the chance to really know your uncle Rob.

He was auntie Aviva's first boyfriend and his family was our family. He called me Sis up until his dying day. He was kind to a fault; he finished his apprenticeship to be an Electrician and was at the start of a promising career when he threw it all away to take care of his parents. Uncle Joe, his dad, had cancer. They moved back to Toronto from Trinidad and your uncle Rob gave everything up to work odd jobs and care for his parents. That's the kind of person he was.

One thing I would never forget about your uncle Rob (besides the dancing, dominoes, and drinks) was how well he could cook. Trini food was something I learned from him; not from auntie Carlen or Auntie Mel. Uncle Rob introduced me to Trini ingredients.

When we were in Trinidad it all came together; the garage on Epringham was his family's attempt to recreate the outdoor kitchen. It was there I first helped him (and learned in the process) make green seasoning.

Green seasoning is ubiquitous in Trinidad. Whether you are Indian, Black, Chinee or White, every culture uses it to marinate everything. It may vary here and there, but this is how I learned to make it, and to me this is the best.

I wish you both got to know your uncle Rob. You would have loved him.

Thanks for everything Robbie. We miss you.

From left to right: Canola oil, green onion, ginger, thyme, lime, scotch bonnet, garlic, salt, bandanya

Green Seasoning 

Bandanya/Chadon Beni		8 bunches
Green Onion		8 stalks
Thyme		6 stalks
Ginger (fresh)		1 knob (2")
Garlic		2 bulbs
Scotch Bonnet		1-3 peppers (depending on your preferences)
Lime (juice & zest)		1
Canola Oil		2 cups
Sea Salt		3 tbsp
Water		1 cup

Preparation:

1. Wash all your herbs, peel your garlic and skin your ginger.
2. Roughly chop the bandanya, green onion, garlic and ginger.
3. Strip the thyme leaves from the woody stalks.
4. Zest and juice the lime. 
5. Add all the ingredients to a blender. If your blender is not glass, it will hold the scent and flavour of these ingredients. Not great if you're making a smoothie. Rob's family had a blender set aside just for making seasoning.
6. Add the salt and the scotch bonnet peppers. One is hot enough, but if you want it super hot, add up to three. Are the kids going to eat? Maybe opt for no scotch bonnet. Even though I'm trying to introduce heat to my kids, this base seasoning can make them refuse an entire meal. Judge wisely.
7. Add the water. Just enough to help the blender along.
8. Blend all the ingredients until everything is well blended. It will not be smooth, but you should not be able to distinguish any one ingredient from the other. 
9. Remove the centre lid from the blender cover and restart the blender on slow. slowly pour in the canola oil. Continue blending until the mixture is a pale green.
10. Use this to marinate any meat or fish. Use this as a base for curry or stew. I can use a spoonful of this to make a quick mango chow in the summertime.
11. I freeze cubes for easy use and jar the rest of the mixture which stays in the fridge for immediate use. if you do this, pour a thin layer of oil on top to prevent spoilage.

Bali and Your Belly - Coconuts for the Fruit Stand

The ubiquitous tropical fruit stand. Actually, it could be either friut or veg, but you see them along the highways in almost every tropical country you visit. With a flimsy shelter and well displayed produce, travellers are enticed to stop and pick up groceries or just a snack. I must admit, I wanted that whole stack of passionfruits and mangosteens (see the mottled orange round fruit on the lower shelf and the dark colour round fruit on the top shelf above). At home I find fruit tastes one dimensional. An banana, an orange, and apple, even berries - most of us rely on the grocery stores where they don't retain the complexity of flavour. In the tropics the fruit yields the full benefit of the sun, ripening until their sweet tangy juices develop until bursting.

I was happy to know most of our fellow travelers were eager to stop here and pick up some delicious treats. You have to admit, the display is enticing - they know how to attract buyers. The variety is outstanding. Being a Caribbean girl, I always prefer tropical fruit. Our Van (see left) stopped and we didn't wait long before the road was clear to run over. We were inundated with children wanting to sell us trinkets, which was both sad and frustrating, making our fruit stop bittersweet. One of our companions with a big heart even had a hard time with a child following her into the van! They are persistent, but not aggressive, which pulls at my compassion. I hope they are family with the fruit vendor, so at least they benefit from our purchases.

On a separate leg on one of our journeys we crossed paths with a coconut stand. We had coconut previously at a restaurant (read: tourist trap) which turned out to be lacking in flavour and a bit of a disappointment. This stand, however, made up for it completely. It was young, full of sweet water, and I'm not sure about everybody else, but mine had young tender flesh. Ah, I miss fresh coconut! They chopped it for us and we enjoyed it on our continued drive.

I don't think Enrique got one, I believe we shared. So when it came time to get the flesh, I used my nails to pare away the flesh from the bowled interior to feed him large sections of the almost jelly like flesh. OUCH! It's not easy to do. It takes time, but I wasn't going to let that flesh go; great coconut meat is not easy to come by. Of course we shared it - I fed myself as well - and oh, for such healthy food, it is damn tasty.

I enjoyed these last minute stops. Not only are they delicious, but it was fun. En & I lucked out in traveling with a great group, and everyone had a great sense of humour and weren't afraid to pipe up to Jack (our guide) and say "oooh! Coconuts! Let's stop!"

It just goes to reinforce my belief in straying (even if just a little) from the beaten path. That restaurant was great and an interesting experience, but if you want the best stuff, you gotta go to the local vendors.

Bali and Your Belly - Padang!

Street food in the far east has a far different connotation than it does here in North America, and while we are catching up, the variety and freshness are still incomparable. Padang is not just food, it is an experience. While it is not street food in the conventional sense, think of these mini-restaurants as take out stops where most Balinese order and zip off with plastic bags on their mopeds. Sit down (hidang) Padang exists throughout Indonesia, yet the few we saw had limited seating which was usually empty. This location pictured was run by Muslim Balinese, not too common in this predominantly Hindu nation. For the best experience, we asked our driver to take us to his favourite Padang shop. He couldn't stop smiling the whole way.

Padang is an activity in ordering - my initial attempt was overwhelming. 'How do I start?' I asked. As usual, the Balinese proprietor was very helpful, explaining the process as I went. First, you select your items. Most dishes are peppery, salty, and/or sauced with a coconut milk base. The meat stews tend to this chilli coconut taste. They have something like curried hard boiled eggs, dried and salted fish which looked like pomfrets, steamed greens, salty unsauced grilled chicken, and various curries, usually of organ or fibrous cuts. You pay only for the items you select. The order is then placed on a banana leaf on top of a pile of steamed rice (which absorbs any yummy sauce) and wrapped up for the journey. Condiments? I (of course) asked for hot sauce, and instead of dousing it over our food, they packed a little plastic bag, tying it off at the top (the way Enrique does with produce, lol) and sending us on our way with a smile. I cannot emphasize how friendly the Balinese are.

In every culture that eats from banana leaf (including ours), they claim it flavours the food. Nothing overt, but there is a tastiness imparted from the experience. When I see a leaf, I unconsciously want to use my hands to eat, but this time, eating on our bed, I decided a fork would be best. Once we returned to our room I brought a tray to the bed, laid out the food, and found a glass in which I could place and unravel the plastic bag of pepper sauce (see below). We settled in to silence as we enjoyed the first few mouthfuls. Sure we were hungry (not a day went by in Bali where we weren't exhausted by the evening), but that food was just the sort of hearty dinner you would expect from someone's home. It was comforting. It was spicy (yes, we both needed some additional pepper sauce). And after a refreshing shower and settling in, it was the perfect sedative. Sure it's glistening with fat, but it's the good kind - the kind that comes naturally from the food, not processed like a dirty water hot dog, but from food that was recently cooked from fresh ingredients bought that exact day. And if there is one thing I can appreciate about any given culture, it's the drive to keep local food and heritage flavours alive and on a plate. I don't care if we have to venture away from the tourist dense strip of burger joints and fried chicken to get it.

Bali and Your Belly - The Shores of Romance

How is it possible to go to Bali without being swept up in the inherent romance of the island? It has positioned itself as the sensual and mystical, the virginal and passionate, it creates the slight offset beat that heightens our allure.


Funny, isn't it? If you were to assume the male and female between these drinks, you would think the tall fruity thing is mine, wouldn't you? I prefer less sweet, more sour. The hurricane glass is Enrique's. It's a pineapple rum frozen and frothy concoction. Mine is a lime and lemongrass gin. Bali isn't known for the heavy drinkers; liquor here is at a premium, but it doesn't mean their bartenders pay little attention to taste. As odd as this is, I wasn't really interested in drinking much on this vacation, but a cocktail goes well with dinner.








Enrique opted for the four course dinner. The ice cream in that black dish? Wasabi. The salad? it's lobster sashimi. Also on the menu was a deconstructed ravioli, seared scallops and ribs (ah yes, my husband and his ribs...)





I must say he enjoyed the ribs more than anything. He is, in the end, a man's man, and while flavours and unique presentation are all well and good, great tasting hearty food will beat out every time. Yes, yes, I know I said he drinks fruity drinks, but a man in vacation is entitled to the little umbrellas. But a man tends towards comfort foods more than women, so if you offer him ribs, and top it of, with rice, of all things (he is Filipino, after all), can I blame him? To him, this is what he enjoys. Even if the best ribs in the world are half a world away, this is what made him happy tonight.














For me, I chose a freshly caught snapper. Ever try to recreate a great food moment? Mine is a Snapper at a restaurant (El Pescadore) in Mexico. It was the best snapper I had ever tasted. Unfortunately, this snapper fell short. In fact, this snapper was undercooked, and before I could spit out the offending mouthful (into a napkin, I did not intend to ruin the evening, lol), some must have made my way into my stomach because I had to go back to the room after dinner while Enrique enjoyed the night on the beach. I joined him, but of course, it put a great pause in the evening. But then again, that's part of love, right? Right?



Romance isn't always about dressed up food. Some of the best food we've eaten have been in what would be termed, unromantic settings. But it is the passion that makes the romance irregardless of the setting. And though it was wonderful to have a candle lit dinner on the beach in Bali, by no means was it necessary for our love and our passion.


Oh come on, a candle lit dinner on the beach in Bali can't hurt your chances either.

Bali and Your Belly - The Market

In Denpasar you will find the central market of Bali. This is the largest market on the island, where food, household goods, and clothing are sold. The non-food items can be found inside the long building (seen in the above photo), and the food can be found in the older building (see below) and during the day, stands fill the walkways and are tented as the only protection from the sun. While En and I did check out a local Jumbaran market (which is open daily from 4-8am) which ran half a street long, this market was far more overwhelming.



I noticed the fruits and vegetables are mostly, but not always fresh, yet there is an abundance that surprised me. Cartons upon cartons of eggs that were replenished by incoming shipments on the backs of pickups and bushels of greens were continuously being delivered on the tops of the deliverer's head. Who was buying all this food in the middle of the day?




I assume, like some other countries in the general area, that food preparation at home is likely limited. There is an abundance of street vendors and tucked away local restaurants that seem focused on a take away clientele with limited seating. Balinese do not seem very interested in the sit down dining that we westerners are used to. And it's true - most dine-in restaurants I observed always have English accompanying the signage.



Take this poultry vendor, for example. Somebody is buying and preparing all that meat today. There is no refrigeration to preserve these buckets. But who am I to complain? All the local food we've had has been outstanding! Even within this market (unfortunately I didn't get a picture) were many women who made and sold treats, and while the contents weren't always identifiable, what little we tried was really good.



One thing I must say about traveling; the local markets tell much more about the people in a short time than probably any other experience you can encounter. Oh, and the passion fruit? Ah.... I could definitely live in Bali!

Bali and Your Belly - $50 Cup of Coffee

We traveled up through the mountains for many reasons, one of which was to see a cat. Or rather, it's droppings. The last excrement that was this valuable was from the pharaoh and used as fertilizer for the temple crops. I'm not even kidding you.


You've heard of Monkey poop coffee, I'm sure. There is also civet cat poop coffee. My mother can't stop laughing at me. None of my family can, but when faced with a once in a lifetime opportunity that has a mortality rate of 0%, do you seize the moment, or do you wimp out? I guess the grossness factor comes into play, and to each his own on that one.



It was surreal. Sitting there with some warm hearted traveling companions, we trek through the forest until we come upon a seemingly empty cage. But on a little ledge inside a boxed shelter is the cat. It looks more like a weasel. But a cat is a cat, and it's not the cat we came to, er, taste.



It was surreal. With some warm hearted traveling companions, we trek through the forest until we come upon a seemingly empty cage. But on a little ledge inside a boxed shelter is the cat. It looks more like a weasel. But a cat is a cat, and it's not the cat we came to, er, taste.

They show us through the bamboo shelters where we see two men roasting the coffee beans in a shallow pan. I don't believe that was the civet cat coffee - they seem to harvest and sell many items, including coffee beans that haven't been processed by any mammalian intestinal tract.

We are shown seats that look out on that gorgeous mountainside. Protected by the shelter, we hear the first loud drops announcing the torrential tropical shower that arrives with deafening force that curtains our view, yet we remain dry. We are taken by the coffee that arrives. First, we are given five little cups (En and I shared a serving) of wonderful flavours all freshly brewed (see insert above right, from front clockwise: honey, ginseng, coffee, hot cocoa, ginger). We sipped the flavours, discussed our favourits and how wonderful it was that we were here. It becomes one of those memories that touches all the senses to ensure you will never forget this moment. Soon, the star of the show arrives.

They serve the civet cat coffee in what surely amounts to their finest china. Again, En and I share a cup. It is cost effective, since all we really want is a taste. Of course, we take it black. If I wanted milk and sugar, I would get a $4 cup of coffee, heck, even a $15 dollar cup of coffee, but this was for the experience. There was silence as we all tasted. I was sure everyone had the same thoughts as I did - is this what all the fuss is about? Maybe my palate is not coffee-sophisticated, but to me, it tasted like a regular brew. A good brew, nonetheless, but yet, nothing to make the angels sing on high, which was kind of our expectation now that the rain and stopped and they sky began to clear. The coffee had a slight sweet note with a notable slick on the surface, surely rich in oils. It had lighter notes, and not quite so heavy bodied. But yet, I was sure it was not unfamiliar, like something I could get at Second Cup. I wonder what they think? It turns out everyone feels exactly as I do! Phew! I was wondering if my taste buds had betrayed me, but no, even En didn't understand the fuss.
But who cares? I was there in the most beautiful setting for a new experience that I will never again in my life be able to recapture. And I wouldn't trade it in. Not even if I could have got the same coffee in town for four bucks.

Bali and Your Belly - Resort to Breakfast

When on vacation, there are two ways to approach food. One extreme is demonstrated by the all-inclusive, all-you-can-eat buffet. Think quantity. Think generic. Here you will find the domesticated North American who misses their french fries and hamburgers. The other extreme is, to me, not extreme at all. It's going native; eating as the locals eat, seeking where they eat, and observing how they eat.

Where you stay doesn't always have to determine what you eat. We've stayed with many resorts which offer many food options, and just because the food is free does not mean you are chained to the resort . Yes, they may have great food, but at some point during the day, when I'm away exploring, I can find delicious delicacies that I will never again in my life have the opportunity to enjoy. So I don't need to backpack in hostels to get to the local fare. Find a balance. There is something said for adventure as much as the the resort's relaxation (that being said, few resorts are exempt from the mad-dash of 'hurry-we-need-to-get-a-table!' syndrome). After all, I am on vacation.

Our resort was only partially inclusive. Breakfast included, and being an exclusive resort, the small plates of small portions discouraged overindulging. Everything was replenished often, yet the sight of dinner-plate sized platters of various cheeses, sliced for your convenience, made one mindful of their selection. This, coupled with the low occupancy and high tranquility of the open air breakfast room, created a serenity in which you could fully enjoy the luxurious unhurried flavour of morning.


A quick bite or a lengthy lunch - it makes no difference to the staff. That being said, it it still 'resort' food. It caters to the international palate of the traveler. Some may be picky, some adventurous. Let's face it - the majority of tourists will come from North America, Europe, and in Bali's case, Australia. What do you serve that will accommodate all tastes? They may offer something resembling Balinese food (ie - Panang, which is similar to a fried rice), but the majority of what would please the tourist is a sampling of cheeses, smoked salmon, prosciutto, other meats, various breads with condiments, fruits (some tropical, some common), and eggs any way you like'em. Tastes veer to the sweeter side for your first meal of the day? A tray of pastries. Want both? Take both. No one judges. Well, at least not out loud, they don't.


And while I can say I enjoyed breakfast every single day, I can say that it did nothing to give me a sense of what Bali offered. It's what a great hotel would offer, but if I wanted to eat as the Balinese ate, I would have to venture outside the gated property. And after a leisurely breakfast beside the lotus pool, my husband and I were invariably ready to do just that.

Bali and Your Belly - A Religious Experience

We arrived at Tanah Lot. En and I walked barefoot over the slippery ocean rocks to get to the temple where I prayed and we were blessed by the priest. The priests are inside the temple under the rock.

This was one of the most spiritual experiences I've had. The spring of water is said to come from God when the staff struck the rock. I understand this is not how things likely went down, but it is considered a holy Hindu temple, and you could feel it and I was happy to receive the blessings. All our travel companions were happy to do so as well.

Where God told the man to strike the ground with his staff; Tanah Lot, Bali

After the temple experience we walked the grounds and went to the restaurant (the only restaurant) that has very limited seating. I'm sure this was all arranged by the agency. We were able to select from a limited set of seafood and fish (as I said, limited seating, limited selection) and En and I were lucky to select the last two crab. They were sized nicely and very active. Once cooked, they were seasoned with chili oil and we ate all fresco at the side of the rock cliff. Life doesn't get much better than this.

2 sea crabs, alive just moments before we ate them.

How is a band related to the temple...?

Dal Toro Ristorante @ Palazzo in Vegas

Dal Toro Ristorante
3355 S. Las Vegas Blvd. Las Vegas, NV, 89109
(in the Palazzo)



There are a few restaurants I would have loved to check out, but being locations I would enjoy with my husband or close friends, I didn't have high hopes. I was more interested in enjoying time with my coworkers at a venue that was more affordable. Jen and Henning have been to Dal Toro before and suggested it, which was a wonderful idea. It was an interesting setting and not too pricey.

This image of the lobby was shot through a glass panel with translucent gray linear patterns. The decor set it apart from the regular seating, not to say that there wasn't enough kitsch to go around for both areas.


I ordered the seafood linguini. Surprisingly it was delicious. It's easy to be disappointed by seafood pasta dishes, but everything was tender and the flavour was not wanting. It wasn't spectacular, but it was well done food. I had a gin and tonic, Henning also had a drink (scotch, I believe) and Dany, a glass of red.

Jen and Henning told me to go check out the sink in the washroom. I didn't think it would have surprised me - restaurants that try to be upscale tend to glam up their washrooms and I had seen a few. But this was really funky! I mean, you've got this disk spouting water and your hand's go right there! I know it doesn't seem this way from the picture, but it really was interesting. Too bad it didn't drain well.





We did manage to take a group shot to commemorate the moment.Who knows when we would all dine together? Left to right: Dany, Henning, Jennifer, Me, Modupe, Nicola.



There is a showroom displaying some beautiful cars - I took a ton a photos, but here is one of the restaurant's namesake - the Lamborghini.

Communism Bad for Cuisine

I mentioned that I would post about our trip to Cuba, and I have been slacking. It's been over two months now, but I find that is the amount of time it has taken for my digestive system to recalibrate itself and find it in it's gut to forgive me. For I have heaped atrocities in the form of near-spoiled and much-stale food upon it, and it is no surprise my stomach held a grudge.

I'm not saying all food in Cuba is bad; on the contrary, we ate some delicious lobster at a restaurant called Barracuda (I read some tourist reviews after our return) at a restaurant on the beach. The owners, the musicians, all attentive, all smiles on their faces, and from what I gather, really enjoying themselves, this, their home, their livelihood, and they indeed made it beautiful.

But the day fear strikes you to your bowels is the day you eat on the resort. Again, not all resort food was bad, BUT...

When at the omelet station, I asked for capers and smoked salmon in my egg whites, he dumped a hunk of matted salmon, two spoonfuls of capers in their brine, more brine than capers, and tossed it into my half cooked whites and slid the whole sloppy mess onto my plate. This was not an isolated incident - at a restaurant in Havana, a tourist trap our Cubanos 'friends' wanted us to visit (for the kickback, we realized after being seated), the meat was tough, the dining room empty (except for one other table, our friends, who were also taken by the same group of Cubans), and the service, well.... what service?

The 'chain' workers, the ones who are there for a job, they do exactly that - the job. They do not care how the food is presented, only that it is presented. Follow the instructions as quickly as possible. Taste, presentation, quality - these are not concerns that plague the chain worker. This is not their fault either; they need a job because they need money, so if this is the job they can get to suit their needs, by all means, take it. It's our own faults for patronizing their establishments, isn't it? If we want good food, it's up to us to seek it out.

That's why, one day, walking through Veradero, with my husband and our friends, I saw a little restaurant, a couple locals walking out, and the menu was unpretentious but interesting enough to make me say, 'this is where I want to have lunch.' And the friends all followed. And though they messed up our order, the food was still good. I had to share my plate with my husband for how big the portion was. But what got me was the portly owner behind the counter, sheepishly bending over backwards to get out the missing dish (which I declined, come on, when I'm hungry I get pissy; who doesn't?), who took such pride when he came over to ask how our meal was.

People say love makes the food better. I don't expect a stranger to love me. But if your livelihood is in part feeding people, care about your food. Because it doesn't take hate to ruin someones stomach for weeks. Only neglect.

I'm sure there are many wonderful little restaurants in Cuba, which is unfortunate, because I would have liked to have seen them while I was there. As you surely can guess, H and I will not be making a return trip. The only location where my final meal could ever be bread, while, olive oil and cheese should be Italy. And that, hopefully, will come sometime in the next few years...