My Sunday Plate, Slow and Full of Fire

I will be honest with you. I am from Guadeloupe, and jerk chicken is not mine. It belongs to Jamaica, to the Maroons who cooked their meat slow over pimento wood in the hills so the smoke would not give them away. I grew up a few islands south, in Pointe-à-Pitre, where my mother cooked colombo and court-bouillon and fricassée. But the Caribbean is one big kitchen with the door always open. We borrow from each other. We taste each other’s food and we fall in love with it.

The first time I ate proper jerk chicken, I was a young man, and a Jamaican friend cooked it for me. The heat, the allspice, the char on the skin, the way the rice underneath had soaked up all that coconut and chilli. I sat there quiet for a long time. Then I asked him to teach me. That is the highest respect one cook can pay another.

So this is my version. Jamaican in its bones, cooked by a Guadeloupe hand. I bring my own island touch with a spoon of Caribbean Hot Sauce stirred straight into the marinade, because that is how I like my fire: warm, building, balanced, never just hot for the sake of it. This is the plate I cook on a Sunday, when there is time, when the kitchen can smell of garlic and thyme for an hour with nobody rushing me.

Let me show you how I make it. The proper way. Slow, with respect, and full of fire.

Recipe at a glance

• Cuisine: Caribbean (Jamaican, cooked by a Guadeloupe hand)
• Prep: 20 minutes • Cook: 45 minutes • Total: 1 hour 5 minutes (plus marinating)
• Serves: 4 hungry people
• Featured sauce: Caribbean Hot Sauce
• Heat level: 7/10, building and warming, not punishing
• Diet: Gluten free, dairy free

What you’ll need

Do not let the list frighten you. Most of it is thyme, garlic and store cupboard spice. The chicken and the rice share a lot of the same flavours, which is the whole secret: you cook them as two halves of one plate, not two separate things.

A word on the soy sauce. Most jerk uses it, and to keep this gluten free you want a gluten free soy sauce or tamari. Read the label, that is all.

For the jerk chicken and marinade:

• 1.3 kg bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs and drumsticks
• 4 spring onions, white and green, roughly chopped
• 1 small onion, peeled and quartered
• 4 garlic cloves, peeled
• 1 thumb of fresh ginger, peeled and roughly chopped
• 2 scotch bonnet chillies, stalks removed (deseed one or both if you want it gentler)
• 3 tbsp Caribbean Hot Sauce, plus a little extra for finishing
• leaves stripped from 8 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 tbsp gluten free soy sauce or tamari
• juice of 2 limes
• 2 tbsp light olive oil
• 2 tsp ground allspice (pimento)
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp grated nutmeg
• 1 tbsp soft dark brown sugar
• 1.5 tsp fine sea salt
• 1 tsp freshly cracked black pepper

For the coconut rice and peas:

• 250 g long grain rice
• 1 x 400 ml tin full-fat coconut milk
• 1 x 400 g tin red kidney beans, drained and rinsed (gungo peas if you can find them)
• 3 spring onions, chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, crushed
• leaves from 4 sprigs fresh thyme, or 1 tsp dried thyme
• 1 whole scotch bonnet, left whole and unbroken
• 1 tsp ground allspice
• around 250 ml water
• fine sea salt, to taste

Method

Read it through once before you start. Cooking is calmer when you know where you are going.

1. Make the marinade. Put the spring onions, onion, garlic, ginger, scotch bonnets, thyme, Caribbean Hot Sauce, soy sauce, lime juice, oil, allspice, cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, salt and pepper into a blender. Blitz it to a thick, dark green paste. Have a smell. That smell, sweet and hot and earthy all at once, is the smell of the whole dish.

2. Marinate the chicken. Slash each piece of chicken two or three times down to the bone with a sharp knife. This is important, do not skip it. The cuts let the marinade get deep into the meat. Put the chicken in a bowl, pour over the marinade, and rub it in with your hands. Get into the slashes. Cover it and put it in the fridge. Two hours will do. Overnight is better. A full day is best. You don’t rush this part.

3. Start the rice and peas. When you are about an hour from eating, begin the rice. Put the coconut milk, kidney beans, spring onions, garlic, thyme and allspice into a heavy pot. Drop in the whole scotch bonnet but do not burst it: you want its perfume, not its full fire in the rice. Add the water and a good pinch of salt. Bring it up to a gentle boil.

4. Add the rice. Rinse the rice under cold water until it runs clear, then stir it into the pot. The liquid should sit about a centimetre above the rice. Bring it back to a boil, then turn the heat right down to its lowest, put the lid on, and leave it. Do not lift the lid. Do not stir. Let it cook quietly for 25 to 30 minutes until the rice is tender and the liquid is gone.

5. Get the oven hot. While the rice cooks, heat your oven to 200°C (fan 180°C). Lift the chicken out of its marinade, letting the excess drip back, and lay the pieces skin side up on a lightly oiled roasting tray. Keep the leftover marinade in the bowl for now.

6. Roast the chicken. Roast for 35 to 40 minutes, until the skin is dark, the edges are catching, and the juices run clear when you cut into the thickest part. Halfway through, spoon a little of the reserved marinade over the pieces to keep them glossy.

7. Finish with fire. For the last 5 minutes, turn your grill to high. Brush the chicken with a thin layer of Caribbean Hot Sauce and let it bubble and char under the heat. Watch it closely. This is where the skin turns sticky and the kitchen smells like a Sunday should.

8. Rest, then serve. Take the chicken out and let it rest for 5 minutes. Lift the lid off the rice, find the whole scotch bonnet and lift it out, then fluff the rice gently with a fork. Pile the rice on warm plates, sit the chicken on top, and spoon over any juices from the tray. That is the plate.

The role of Caribbean Hot Sauce in this dish

Most jerk marinades lean on raw scotch bonnet alone, and raw chilli can be a blunt, one-note heat. My Caribbean Hot Sauce is doing something different in here. It is thick, so it clings to the meat instead of running off. It is already balanced, with the chilli rounded out, so when it goes into the marinade it carries the heat but it also carries body and depth. It is the everyday workhorse in my kitchen for exactly this reason.

You taste it twice. First in the marinade, where it soaks deep into the slashes you cut. Then again at the end, brushed on thin under the grill, where it catches and turns sticky and dark. That second hit is the one people remember, the glossy, slightly burnt edge that makes them reach for another piece. One jar, two jobs, and the whole plate is better for it. It is gluten free and vegan too, which is worth knowing if you are feeding a mixed table.

Tips from my kitchen

• Bone in, skin on, always. Boneless chicken cooks faster but it dries out and it loses the deep flavour. The bone keeps the meat sweet and the skin gives you that char. Trust me on this.
• Do not burst the scotch bonnet in the rice. Left whole, it gives a beautiful floral perfume and gentle warmth. Burst it, and you have rice that fights back harder than the chicken. I learned this the hard way as a boy.
• Rinse your rice. Washing off the surface starch is the difference between separate, fluffy grains and a sticky clump. Thirty seconds under the tap.
• Let it marinate longer than you think. If you can leave the chicken overnight, do it. The lime and salt work into the meat and the flavour goes all the way through, not just the surface.
• Save your scotch bonnet seeds. If you want more heat, leave the seeds in. If you are cooking for children or gentle eaters, deseed both chillies and let the Caribbean Hot Sauce carry the warmth instead.

What to serve it with

This plate stands proud on its own, but a Caribbean Sunday is generous, so I always put more on the table. Fried sweet plantain is the first thing, soft and caramelised against the heat. A sharp cabbage slaw cuts through the richness. Some charred corn if the grill is already hot.

If you like a fresh, green note on the side, a spoon of my Fresh Herbal Sauce over the rice is beautiful, all herbs and no heat, a cool counterpoint to the jerk. And for anyone at the table who wants the heat without the fire, my Exotic Caribbean Sauce with its passion fruit and gentle chilli is lovely drizzled over the plantain. You can see the full range over on the shop.

FAQ

How spicy is this jerk chicken?

It sits around a 7 out of 10, which is warm and building rather than punishing. The heat comes from the scotch bonnets and the Caribbean Hot Sauce, and you are fully in control of it. Deseed the chillies, use one instead of two, and let the sauce carry the flavour, and you will have something the whole table can enjoy.

Can I make it without an oven, on a barbecue?

Yes, and it is wonderful that way. Cook the marinated chicken over medium coals, skin side up first, turning often so it does not burn, for around 30 to 40 minutes until cooked through. Brush with Caribbean Hot Sauce in the last few minutes. The smoke does beautiful things to the marinade. That is closest to how it was first cooked in the Jamaican hills.

What are the peas in rice and peas?

They are beans, not garden peas. Traditionally red kidney beans, or gungo peas (pigeon peas) around Christmas time. Back home we call most of them peas, which confuses everyone the first time. Tinned kidney beans are perfectly good here and save you a long soak.

How far ahead can I marinate the chicken?

Up to a full day in the fridge, and I would encourage it. A minimum of two hours, ideally overnight. The longer it sits, the deeper the lime, salt and spice work into the meat. Just keep it covered and cold.

Is this recipe gluten free?

It is, as long as you use a gluten free soy sauce or tamari, which is the only thing to watch. My Caribbean Hot Sauce is gluten free and vegan, the rice and peas are naturally both, so the chicken is the only part to keep an eye on.

Final word from me

This is the plate I cook when I want to feed people properly, when there is time and there is music on and nobody is in a hurry. It is not difficult. It just asks for a little patience while the chicken marinates and the rice does its quiet work. Cook it once and you will understand why a Sunday in the Caribbean is built around food like this. Pour yourself something cold, slash that chicken deep, and let me know how it goes.

JP