3 years in Chicago and people always ask: what do you miss? Well.. not a whole lot. Not the useless Chicago PD, not the racist neighbors in Bridgeport (King Daley’s old neighborhood), not the permanently reconstructing Dan Ryan freeway and certainly not dirty black snow. What I miss? Jerk chicken. Smoky, crispy jerk chicken from Uncle Joe’s. Spicy as hell jerk chicken from Tropical Time.
Tuesday was get-out-of-the-house-for-free days. Under the pretense of attending Korean class, I roam the streets of Mid-Wilshire adjacent for the next great eat, worry free, passenger free. Ughhh… who am I kidding… The thought of Hangook brain-washing for 2 hours makes me hungry.
late last year ago, I “found” NY BBQ, formerly Greece BBQ, a Chowhound favorite. In January, I hit the proverbial MF jackpot: jerk chicken. Not just any jerk chicken, jerk chicken served from a solo operator kitchen, in the back of a former reggae record shop, on a barren stretch of Washington Blvd, with Ondal 2 being the closest restaurant. Yah, that’s right, jerk chicken 2 blocks away from Korean spicy crab. So LA!
According Desmond, the Islander proprietor, PK has been only open for a “bit”. He sure can use some business, but he says all good things take time and he’s holding “Carribean parties” in the mean time. The layout of this joint is almost Chicago Southside jerk shack-ish. Love it! Also love the extremely spiced (and spicy) grilled jerk (not smoked, but certainly not “stewed”) chicken. Forgo cabbage & sides, stick to protein. Oxtail is tender and lightly spiced, curry goat reeks of goaty goodnesss (watch out for the bone bits) with proper amount of curry, and the jerk chicken, sans dipping sauce, is far superior to Ackabee Bamboo’s.
Now, who serves rip tibs? Please stand up.
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