We wanted to try something new, so off we went to this Jamaican restaurant near where I work. My husband said he heard an ad over the radio, and that people were giving it really good ratings on yelp.
Reluctantly, I agreed to go.
The place was a grown up hole in the wall. It has festive decorations and smells like grandma’s kitchen. On the menu, I saw fried plantains and stewed oxtails. I ordered a regular sized meal.
The fried plantain made me emotional. It tasted like Friday afternoon. Back in the Philippines, my aunt usually comes over my house and we would fry plantains and roll them in brown sugar. I miss it so much, and the taste brought me back home. I have to stop eating it because I was afraid that I’m going to cry. I ate it slowly, every bite bringing me back home.
The oxtail was the best. It reminded me of kare kare, a Filipino dish which includes oxtail and peanut sauce. This one however comes in a gravy like sauce, but so much better and it has a little kick. I missed oxtails so much, my mama makes the best.
So yeah… While my taste buds were feasting, my heart was going through a roller coaster ride of emotions.