Rice and Peas, Curry Goat, Plantains

Location: Hammersmith, London

Sometimes you discover food that reminds you why you fell in love with eating. I've long wondered why black-Britain has not succeeded in bringing its food to the high street, in the same way that Indian-Britain has. Go down any thoroughfare in most towns and cities, and you'll find at least one curry house, but how often have you seen a restaurant serving traditional fare from the Caribbean? I'm sure sociologists may have all sorts of theories about this - if you believe the statistics then black-Britain performs badly on many social indicators including education, social mobility and the rest. Perhaps Indian-Britain is simply more ambitious, more "go-getting", or just more sure of itself. A few restaurants won't change that, but at the very least, food has the potential to foster curiosity about other cultures, and the way "they" do things. It can wipe away that initial hesitancy, those thoughts of "this isn't for me". It's much better than being lectured about tolerance by some bloke from the council. Taste the food, and you are having the same experience as thousands of Jamaicans or Indians before you. It gives you direct - not sanitised political correct nonsense - access to the people. You can be, for a brief moment, one of "them" and then choose to explore that feeling further, or to withdraw.

I have no experience of Caribbean food. This is absolutely my fault - for someone who professes to want to try everything there is on offer, I made the cardinal mistake of assuming that I wouldn't be impressed. Sure, I know some of the composite parts, those ingredients that crop up continually - scotch bonnet peppers, plantains, coconut, rice - but the reality is that this unique cuisine is an amalgamation of a wide variety of cultural influences from the west coast of Africa, to the asian sub continent via the major imperial powers of Europe. Yesterday I was researching a marinade for jerk chicken that included orange juice, soy sauce and olive oil - now that was confusing, and as I have mentioned a thousand times if there's one thing I'm wary of its fusion food. I'm still learning, I know very little, but as I mentioned above I've become completely obsessed with finding out more.

The reason for all this is Hammersmith market, held on a Thursday of each week. Now, I hate going to London. To do so is something of a chore, but I was there for a job interview so I couldn't complain. I felt rather like a downtrodden husband visting his in-laws, times one-thousand. Having an hour to kill, and spotting the market I wandered over, in search of a nibble for lunch. There was an impressive array of options including some delightful smelling north African food, a falafel stall with a queue that was at least thirty people deep (complete with furious looking office workers glancing at their watches every thirty seconds), the obligatory home made burgers and sausages, and gloriously, a very simple, slightly scruffy looking stall with two ramshackle signs reading "curry goat" and "jerk chicken". It was manned by two large, jolly, perma-smiled Jamaican ladies, with whom I was immediately charmed. They were cheeky, and were mercilessly mocking customers who were staring and clearly considering if it was worth a visit to the hospital. I've noticed that at a food market, certain stalls have the equivalent of pub-reconnaissance, that phenomenon of walking up and down the street from different angles, past the pub you're debating wether to go in, trying to catch a glimpse of the interior and/or clientele before opting for the soulless neon-clad bar at the end of the road. But the two ladies had those types sussed. "Give us a try!" one would say, to shrieks of laughter from the other, complete with thigh slap. "Come on over, we don't think it will kill you too bad!". Cue high-fiving and spoon waving. They were great.

And once I had some, so was the food. Goat curry is by far the best thing I have eaten this year. It was unbelievably tender, and a deep rich colour. Flavour-wise it was similar to a mature lamb, and cooked on the bone was literally melt in the mouth. It had been marinaded - and the tastes I could distinguish were cumin, some heat (scotch bonnet pepper), a slight saltiness and ginger. Served with the classic staples, rice and peas plus some sweet sweet SWEET fried plantain, which counteracted the heat of the curry wonderfully well. It was served in polystyrene tray, eaten with a plastic spoon whilst sitting on the pavement. It fired the curiosity in me - what exactly goes into the marinade? How long is it marinaded for? Do you need to use a certain type of bean for the rice and peas? Lots of questions and new things to explore - which is the incredible thing about food, you never run out of things to learn. Obviously, I'm not going to write a recipe for Curry Goat - the trouble is, I've no idea what is authentic. But I have come across this video, which seems promising, if only for the way the girl says "Jamaican Curry Goat" - absolute classic.