Today, I’m taking one of the most versatile seafoods - shrimp – and going with a Caribbean-inspired meal, full of bold flavors and colors. I’m seasoning succulent shrimp and then blackening it, adding a zesty pineapple mango salsa, a drizzle of creamy guacamole dressing , and pairing it all with a sweet, almost floral jasmine rice cooked in coconut milk. You’ve got vibrant colors and flavors, blending sweet, spicy, hot, and tangy – and it all balances out into a completely satisfying, refreshing, and indulgent meal.
Before I start on the recipes for you, I need to get something out of my system. And that would be the "Jerk" part. Here goes:
I hesitate to call this preparation “jerk.”
What exactly is Jamaican Jerk? It’s more than a flavor. It’s more than a seasoning. It’s a cultural legacy originating from the fusion of the Taíno and African cultures in Jamaica. The Taíno people were the Caribbean’s indigenous population – members of the Bahamas and the Greater Antilles – Cuba, Hispaniola, Puerto Rica, the Cayman Islands, and Jamaica. They were first encountered by Columbus in the 1490s and they were the first to call the island Xaymaca, meaning “land of wood and water.” The Spanish contact proved deadly for the Taínos, as the enslaved natives succumbed to mistreatment and disease, namely smallpox. It is believed that nearly 3 million Taíno people were killed or died of disease over a 20 year period. Originally, it was thought that the Taíno population was completely ravaged by the Spanish colonists, but anthropological finds suggest that some of the indigenous people escaped doom, surviving the trauma of “discovery” by fleeing to the island’s mountainous interior. Spanish colonialists then imported African slaves to the island to work the maize fields and perform other physical labors needed in the conquered island. In the mid 1600s, during the war between England and Spain, the British invaded Jamaica. The enslaved Africans fled to the mountains of Jamaica and became known as the “Maroons,” derived from the Spanish ward “cimarrones,” meaning mountaineers. There, the Maroons encountered the original Taínos and settled among them and formed alliances, eking out a living hunting and cultivating crops and sharing culinary traditions, one of which was “jerk.”
Jerk refers to the manner in which meat was seasoned, smoked, and grilled, and it is a remnant from the era of slavery. The word “jerk” itself comes from the Spanish “char qui,” meaning dried or cured meat. The Taínos taught the Maroons how to preserve meats with available spices and leaves, developing an underground cooking method to evade discovery by their enemies. The Maroons and Taíno escapees traditionally hunted wild boar, seasoning the meat with allspice berries, salt, and bird peppers, wrapping it in pepper elder leaves, and cooking it in underground smokeless pits, roasting it over dying embers to avoid detection by the Spanish.
“To feed themselves in the face of adversity, the Maroons had to hunt, prepare, preserve, transport, nourish, and sustain while always on the move… Jerk is freedom manifested in food.”
It is a blending of cultures in a unique culinary identity that sustained them in a history of defiance, survival, and freedom.
Jamaican Jerk is a cuisine born of necessity, independence, and escapism. It is a testament to tenacity, ingenuity, and survivorship. It is, in essence, a way of life.
Instead of white-washing a significant part of Jamaican culture and calling this cultural appropriation “Jerk,” offering it as authentic, and thereby insulting an entire ethnic group, I try to show respect for the culture, hopefully not being offensive, instead calling it “Caribbean-style” or “my take on Jamaican jerk” or “jerk-like” or as I prefer, "Island-Inspired."
Here’s an outline of what I’m making so you can get an idea of the process and timeline for what’s involved:
1) Make the pineapple mango salsa first. Cover and refrigerate so all the flavors have time to swirl around and get friendly with each other.
2) Make the guacamole dressing. Cover and refrigerate. This is made in a blender or food processor and you want the consistency to be drizzle-able. If you need to thin it out after it’s been sitting for a while, add a little more lime juice or a neutral flavored olive oil to it. (My go-to neutral olive oil is Bertolli Extra Light Olive Oil.)
6) Season and blacken the shrimp.
7) Assemble the dish.
Now, let’s get started on the meal.
To prepare the pineapple, cut off top and bottom, stand it upright, and slice off skin and any remaining “eyes.” Remove fibrous core, then chop fruit into small chunks.
Dice peeled mango, peppers, and onion. Mince jalapeño. Chop cilantro. Combine all.
Whisk together honey, lime juice and zest. Pour over pineapple mixture. Toss to coat. Season with salt to taste. Cover and refrigerate at least an hour so the flavors can get happy together.
Combine avocado, lime juice, olive oil, and garlic clove in mini-processor. Blend until smooth. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add more lime juice or olive oil, if needed, to achieve a drizzling consistency.
Cover and refrigerate until ready to use.
Coconut Rice
In medium saucepan, combine rice, coconut milk, water, and salt. Bring to a boil over medium high heat, reduce heat to low, cover, and barely simmer for about 15 minutes, or until rice is tender and liquid is absorbed. Add more liquid if needed. Fluff the rice with a fork, plop in the butter, remove from heat, cover, and keep warm until serving.
While the rice is cooking, assemble the seasoning ingredients.
Toss the shrimp with olive oil, lime juice, and seasoning mixture.
Heat a large skillet over medium high heat, add in a bare film of oil and let it get hot, and then cook the shrimp about 2 minutes, or until just opaque. Remove from heat.
Assembly
Divide coconut rice between plates, Top with cooked shrimp and a generous helping of the salsa. Drizzle with guacamole dressing and garnish with fresh cilantro, lime wedges, and/or avocado slices.
Enjoy.
