Cooking Up Memories in Antigua

A Little Jerk Spice Enlivens Your Caribbean Experience

In last month’s epistle, I lured you into the kitchen with the tantalizing photos and stories of one of the cooking classes we took in the Caribbean—in St. Vincent in the Grenadines. I told you I would be back this month with more culinary delights, and I didn’t forget! Yes, I’m still floating on the memories of that amazing trip. It brought me the richness of the cultures, peoples, and traditional foods of place! Oh, my! Plus, the color – the tropical profusion of color everywhere in the flowers, trees, and all the eye-popping cottages were especially appreciated in January.

Today, I would like to take you by the hand, and have you join my husband and me in Antigua! Known as the islands of Antigua and Barbuda, this is a sovereign island country in the Caribbean which lies at the junction of the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean in the Leeward Islands. This little tidbit of information may not mean anything to you, but if you are a sailor (and we are), you know where the prevailing winds are coming from and in this case the Atlantic side, which is most buffeted by strong winds. I preferred the gentle Caribbean side.

Like most of these tropical islands, known for beautiful reef-lined beaches, rainforests, and resorts, this island was no different and we were able to see much of it as we traversed the island to our cooking class. After getting off the ship in St John’s City, we hopped into the van to head from the northwest corner of the island to the south side of the island. We were able to see much of island life in all its forms, from the cities, through the small villages, and through the tropical forests. Of course, as on most islands, the going was slow as roads are difficult to maneuver. Many are not paved, are narrow and are scarred with deep crevasses created by the daily rains. But, no matter, don’t worry! This is the way of island life and was, indeed, expected. (Pop in the soundtrack by Bobby McFerrin’s ‘Don’t Worry; Be Happy!’ It fits the moment.)

Our driver, a truly gentle man, crept down one road after another where the parking of cars was a sport of its own. The gambit was to be able to navigate with grace past the stationary cars in the road, past the steep cliffs overlooking the sea, and negotiate the road with everyone else going in opposite directions. Mind you, there was no honking of horns! No impatience here! It was simply island life and to be expected.

Antigua was also the site of Lord Horatio Nelson’s home, which you may be familiar with in the Hornblower series. The adjoining English Harbor to his old estate continues to be a thriving yachting hub.

English Harbor

Our destination was just beyond, near a charming little beach resort on Galleon Beach near the Rum Academy. Yes, there is a Rum Academy where you can brew/distill your own concoction. (Actually, it was the sign for the Loose Cannon Beach Bar that caught our fancy. It might be a fun stop on our way back.)

The cooking school was new and had no sign out front, but a barbeque grill emitting smoke and marvelous aromas from the front porch of an octagonally-shaped house looked promising. Our van driver climbed the hill to check if we were at the correct place. And, yay! It was! We were immediately welcomed by two lovely young women: Sasha, who was the chef, and local cooking instructor, yet from Jamaica, and Lucy, who was French, and was working to become a French sommelier—in Antigua, no less. They greeted us warmly, and as we entered the house, they handed us each a copper mug of rum punch and led us to our ‘cooking stations’.

The space for the cooking class was well organized and beautifully laid out with the necessary ingredients to complete our own dishes set out for us. Baskets were filled with brightly-colored peppers in red and orange, hot green/jalapeno peppers, red onions, slim green cucumbers, fresh lemons, avocadoes, green mangoes, limes, and on the shelf separating our ‘stations’ were interesting little glass jars filled with burnt orange-colored jerk spice and other jars with a mysterious deep red paste. “You can add this to almost anything,” Sasha said, encouraging us to try anything. Our menu was fresh ceviche as an appetizer, jerk chicken kabobs as a main course, and a unique mango cheesecake for dessert. Our group of ‘chefs’ was small—only four of us—so, the conviviality began to flow with the rum.

Winston whipping up ceviche unaware of the sailboat race behind him

Standing in my station, I faced my husband across a countertop. Unbeknownst to him and just behind where he was standing, was a wide array of windows which revealed a broad expanse of the most beautiful blue-green waters of the English Harbor. Darting in and around on the crystalline waters, (which appeared to go over his shoulders and around his neck), was a sailing regatta of junior sailors. I didn’t mention the scene behind him, or he would have starved to death by the distraction. Alas, it was a perfect view for me—my true love and the sea!

Sasha, as I mentioned before, was born and raised in Jamaica, but she was an attentive teacher of Antiguan foods and was available for our every need and question. (I love how each island has their own cuisine.) We began with a simple dish—ceviche—and were each given bowls of freshly caught, chopped up grouper or wahoo. The fish had already been steeped in fresh lime juice in the refrigerator, so all was ready. With this concoction, it was up to us to create the ceviche we each preferred, spiced to our taste and sensibilities. I loved it! In most cases of cooking, we are cooking for more than just ourselves, so this was selfish act of getting in touch with our own taste buds, by chopping, mixing, sampling, and adding dashes of this and that to our fish to meet our own personal needs. A bit of olive oil, a splash of lemon juice, more chopped hot peppers, red onion, and tamed with cucumber, creamy avocado and mango. And mmmh, I think I will add a glop of the secret sauce, that deep dark goo found in the jar, marked ‘jerk paste’.  

Ceviche for One

By the time we ‘perfected’ our own ceviche, it was tasting time. The mugs of rum were set aside and we began sipping lovely French wines supplied by our darling French sommelier, Lucy. She opened one bottle after another sharing the essence from the Alsatian region of France, followed by wines from the Provençal region of southern France. My husband and I were quite familiar with all of the French wines and regions, as I’ve written several books about it. But were still a bit confused why Lucy was doing her training to become a ‘sommelier’ in the beautiful, tropics of Antigua. (That question was not completely answered, but it didn’t hold us back from indulging in the gifts from the vine.)

Sommelier Lucy

Ceviche with wine turned out just fine! Chef Sasha, Hetzels and us.

The next dish, jerk chicken kabobs, was a similar process to the ceviche, in that we were given chunks of fresh chicken, of which we put together our own personal spin on another spicy marinade. It was at this time the jerk spice and the jerk paste were blended with other ingredients. While the chicken marinated, we chopped up chunks of the red and orange peppers, and red onion. Once all was assembled on skewers, they were whisked out the door to the awaiting grill, which Sasha’s brother was tending. Again, most all of these recipes we probably have prepared dozens of times at home, but to use ingredients taken from the land, and with the tropical zests of local citrus and spices, was a delightful way to learn another cultural way of cooking. The conviviality we had felt in the beginning was now sloshing over us and we were even more fully engaged with all the group. Of course, more wine was poured, and more wine was swilled.

Full jerk chicken dinner with special buns from Sasha

The final course—delicious, creamy mango cheesecake—was something that was so clever it would be a favorite for all children to make at home. (Notes for grandchildren.) We were each given three separate V-shaped plastic baggies: one filled with creamy cheesecake, one with mango sauce, and one with cookie crumble topping. You simply cut off the point and squirt the amount of cheesecake filling in a bowl, and top with the mango sauce and then add the cookie crumbles.  Obviously, Sasha had managed to prepare all these parts ahead of time, so ours was just to enjoy! And should we try this dessert with the cocoanut-flavored rum made just down the hill? Oh, yes, let’s do! Any excuse for rum in any form is worth a try when in the Caribbean!

Cheesecake in a Mug

A Fine Day with Fine New Friends

After finishing our class, we all moseyed down the hill toward English Bay, as Sasha showed us around the neighborhood. She introduced us to the wonders of the pristine beaches, and bars, including the Loose Cannon Bar. And if not basking in the sun, or splashing in the surf, bellied up to the bar were scads of lightly clad men and/or bikini-clad women. From our (rear) point of view, my husband’s comment of ‘no more than a yard of cloth covers the bodies at the bar’ was accurate. Dental floss might have been an improvement.

A Perfect Beach Day

We then sauntered past the Rum Academy and watched as a class was busy refining their rum-making techniques. As a parting gift, Sasha offered us (for sale) bottles of rum she had distilled at that establishment; ours being Coconut-Cream Rum. I longed to spend time on the beach, but alas, our shuttle awaited and it was time to head back to the ship. It had been a perfectly lovely day! Spending time with new friends, the Hetzels from Florida, plus Sasha and Lucy, made the time extra-special.