Jerk Sauce Diaries.
Posted: Thu Apr 21, 2005 9:36 pm
I first started making jerk sauce about five months ago, in Boulder, Colorado. I also last made jerk sauce about five months ago, in the very same Boulder, Colorado. I stored the plentiful remainders in a little plastic container, with the assurance of the website from which I got the recipe, "will keep forever".
Nothing keeps forever, but with all the oil and incendiary ingredients in the thing, it was hard to imagine how it could go bad.
So I carried it around.
I carried it to Sun City West, Arizona, where it languished for months next to the constant parade of bland, Costco-inspired indistinguishable paste-like foods specialized in by my grandmother.
I carried it back to Myrtle Beach, for a one-week stay in the back of my car while I golfed and celebrated my last week of freedom.
I carried it up to DC, where it hung out with me in the Sheraton while I frantically searched for a place to live.
I carried it up to my apartment here in Herndon, on my first trip up the three flights of stairs to #404. It was the first thing in my refrigerator.
So, just for kicks, I got a chicken breast, and, for the first time in 150+ days, I opened the little plastic container, added a little oil to loosen it up, and started marinating the chicken with this ungodly remnant of food-like substance from the long-forgotten past.
Then I cooked it, and served it over a little coconut rice.
The point of this story is to corroborate those early, suspect-sounding reports:
Jerk sauce keeps forever. (And, it's just about the best damn thing you can possibly put in your face.)
Nothing keeps forever, but with all the oil and incendiary ingredients in the thing, it was hard to imagine how it could go bad.
So I carried it around.
I carried it to Sun City West, Arizona, where it languished for months next to the constant parade of bland, Costco-inspired indistinguishable paste-like foods specialized in by my grandmother.
I carried it back to Myrtle Beach, for a one-week stay in the back of my car while I golfed and celebrated my last week of freedom.
I carried it up to DC, where it hung out with me in the Sheraton while I frantically searched for a place to live.
I carried it up to my apartment here in Herndon, on my first trip up the three flights of stairs to #404. It was the first thing in my refrigerator.
So, just for kicks, I got a chicken breast, and, for the first time in 150+ days, I opened the little plastic container, added a little oil to loosen it up, and started marinating the chicken with this ungodly remnant of food-like substance from the long-forgotten past.
Then I cooked it, and served it over a little coconut rice.
The point of this story is to corroborate those early, suspect-sounding reports:
Jerk sauce keeps forever. (And, it's just about the best damn thing you can possibly put in your face.)