![]() ![]() Steamed cabbage is the perfect foil for jerk seasonings. The chicken is hacked up, yielding plenty of bones to lick after picking off meat spiced from every angle. I pictured them as some kind of reheated frozen novelty and went for the jerk chicken with rice and peas, adding plantains and steamed cabbage. At the top of the list are “jerk chicken egg rolls.” When I first visited JD’s, the person taking my order urged me to try them. You should direct your attention to the “dinner menu” that includes jerk chicken and fish plates. While I call JD’s Jamaican, the menu is predominantly generic breakfast dishes, wings, and sandwiches. THE BASICS: Jerk chicken, cabbage, rice and peas, and plantains. If you don’t want to head home with it, you might score one of the two outdoor tables or you can pretend it’s 1965 and eat in the same place you lost your virginity - your car. JD’s, on Martin Street, is mainly a convenience market where you can buy produce, bee pollen, Listerine, canned beans, and a thousand varieties of candies and snacks whose screaming colors vibe like a carnival runway. In other words, you don’t see many Black people going in and out of the restaurants, but if you turn down the (original) side streets you’ll be back to Black. Apart from inflation, you can blame Summerhill’s priciness on the historically Black neighborhood’s rather sudden appearance in privileged white face. ![]() Probably 90 percent of tenants on Georgia Avenue, Summerhill’s main drag, are restaurants and they are all on the pricey side (like D Boca N Boca, the Mexican spot I reviewed last month). It’s comparatively inexpensive, which is unusual, given its location. One option is takeout, which I usually detest, but I recently discovered a mainly Jamaican gem, JD’s Summerhill Variety Deli. The point is that no matter the causes and positive responses, frantic servers often present expensive, mediocre restaurant meals. Never mind that economist Paul Krugman estimated last year that blaming those boats sitting offshore with undeliverable wagyu, cat food, and wrinkle cream explain about 1 percent of our inflationary misery. I’ve also humbly without research repeated that the Mysterious Supply Chain continues to suffer from long-term COVID infection and inconvenient politics. According to friends, I’ve been unbearably, annoyingly supportive of radically improving restaurant staffs’ salaries, benefits, and tips. I do this while admitting that, like many critics and diners alike, I’ve become tired of looking at menus whose prices eat customers alive in exchange for an experience of lower quality. This month I’m catching up with some quick takes on restaurants I’ve recently visited. ![]()
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