“Jerk” refers to both the seasoning, and the style of cooking over pimento wood. Pimento is unique to the region, and Jamaica remains the largest producer, which is why it has become so deeply tied to the island’s culinary identity. The global popularity of jerk cooking has led to the excessive harvesting of pimento wood, significantly reducing its availability.
Sofrito: This aromatic mixture is the heart of many traditional Puerto Rican dishes. Use as a base for rice, beans, stews, or marinades to add authentic Puerto Rican flavor.
Green seasoning is one of the most important building blocks in Caribbean cooking. Almost every island has its own version, and it is the first layer of flavor in countless dishes. At its heart, it is a blend of fresh herbs, garlic, onions, peppers, and citrus, pounded or blended into a paste. Some cooks lean heavily on culantro (chadon beni), while others use more parsley or thyme, and the balance of heat depends on what peppers are at hand. Green seasoning is more than just a marinade—it’s memory and instinct in a bottle. You season your chicken with it before it ever touches a pot, rub it into fish before frying, stir it into stews, or even fold a spoonful into rice for depth. Every cook has a jar tucked into the fridge, and every family swears by their version. To understand Caribbean food culture is to understand that seasoning begins here.
Bold, fiery, thick, and creamy, this pasta—great served hot or cold—offers a taste of the beauty of cultural syncretism. In Jamaican immigrant communities from New York to London, Rasta Pasta is a treasured tradition, favored for the way two seemingly disparate worlds—Italy and Jamaica—come together in one bright and unfussy pot. It’s so beloved in Jamaica that the esteemed Evita’s Italian Restaurant devoted an entire menu to the dish’s many variants, including a signature the restaurant dubs Reggae-toni. This version turns the typically dairy-heavy dish plant-based with the use of coconut milk, itself a Caribbean staple, keeping Rasta Pasta firmly in touch with its roots.
Throughout the Caribbean and American South, African slaves transformed the tails of oxen or other cattle, the discards of wealthy plantation owners, into a delicacy by slow-braising them in rich, fragrant stews. In Haiti, oxtail is served with pikliz, an intense peppery and sour slaw tart enough to make your jaws clench, similar in taste and texture to the Southern condiment chow chow. Pikliz is most often made with green cabbage, but I use red cabbage, which is prettier and slightly sweeter, and brussels sprouts, which have a hint of nuttiness. Serve with your favorite white rice.
Carrots stand up well to quite aggressive spicing, and they really deepen in colour and change texture when roasted. In this dish I use my jerk seasoning, which is a wonderful blend of earthy spices. It’s really lovely as a sweet glaze with the salty and creamy texture of the vegan feta cheese. I’m a big fan of sweet and salty flavours in the same dish. This feels like it could be a good weekday dinner with a couple of other sides.
I adore àkàrà. These sumptuous, deep-fried fritters are enjoyed across West Africa and the diaspora. A true triumph for the humble black-eyed pea, they are known as koose in Northern regions and acarajé by custodians of West African culture in Brazil. I remember joyous mornings feasting on the classic duo of steaming hot àkàrà and Nigerian “pap”—a creamy custard made with fermented corn. In my version, ginger and spring onions add a little warmth and bite to the fritters. Àkàrà is wonderful served plain, stuffed in a baguette (as you’ll find them in Dakar, Senegal), or stuffed with chunks of spiced prawns and peppers, as enjoyed in Salvador de Bahia, Brazil.
An everyday cooking sauce for any type of meat, fish or protein. Blend the ingredients and store the uncooked sauce for later use, or cook it and then leave to cool.