In Jamaica, food is always at the center of it all. Whether you’re heading to visit family in rural Jamaica, or inviting a friend over in the city, the pot is what brings us together.

From the days of the Taino, the Spaniards, the British, and most deeply our African heritage, we’ve been building flavor. The yam, the banana, the ackee — they crossed oceans and took root in our soil. And we made them ours. Every parish has its specialty, but everywhere you go the food tells the same story: resourceful, bold, and rich and the more rural you go it’s like tasting a part of Jamaica and its people.

Even breakfast carries a level of grandeur. Imagine starting your morning with “ackee and saltfish” buttery ackee tossed with flaky saltfish, onion, tomato and Scotch bonnet. Then add roast and fried breadfruit, fry dumpling and boiled dumpling on the side. Top it with cabbage or callaloo. That’s not just breakfast. That’s a well put together meal. That’s royalty on a plate.

Sunday is sacred. That’s the all households make that little extra effort (the royal plate). Rice and peas cooked down in coconut milk. Fried chicken crisp and golden. Stew chicken thick with gravy. Sometimes you’ll see two meats: oxtail and curry goat. Then the sides pile up vegetables, pasta, plantain, mac and cheese. It’s abundance. It’s family around the table. It’s love served hot and it’s the heartbeat of Jamaican life.

Now if you’re chasing flavor, you have to know where to go. 
If you want some of the best jerk, you drive to “Boston in Portland” pimento wood smoke in the air. 
If you want lobster, you head to Screechie in Hellshire  fresh from the sea, done right. 
If you want well-done fish, Jollys in Portmore is the spot, red snapper, parrot, kingfish, crisp on the outside, moist inside. 
And if you’re coming in late from the dance, “Red Hills” is where you’ll find some of the best jerk chicken on the roadside, still smoking.

And then there’s the everyday. Sprat and bread in a foil and ready to go. Crisp fried sprat in buttered hard dough with pepper sauce. Or goat soup late night, manish water with yam, potato, chocho and big chunks of goat. Spicy, hearty, restorative.

From Treasure Beach to Kingston to Hellshire, from Sunday dinner to street food, Jamaican food bridges the gap. It’s communion. It’s culture. It’s proof that out of simple ingredients, we create greatness.