wandering with forks

I keep odd lists of favorite things that are constantly changing and evolving.  As if I could choose a favorite song, book, pasta, cheese, cuisine...  Yet if I am wielding the tongs, my food consistently refers to that of France or Italy and most frequently, I am a fan of the braise method and pieces of meat that you can't buy shrink-wrapped from the meat pile at the megamart.  Briskets, shanks, and oxtails.

So we happened to have some oxtails in the freezer (who doesn't, right?) which is where I've been "shopping" lately due to New Year's austerity measures.  My first impulse was to Google Mario's oxtail ragu but my husband had something more exotic in mind -- an adaptation (add butter beans!) of this intoxicating, spice-drenched Jamaican trip that warmed us to the bone.  I can't describe what a long slow simmer (oh-so-sexy) does to allspice berries, habanero chiles, and oxtail, but we could not put our forks down and when we finally did, we mopped up what slipped through the tines with coco bread -- my contribution to the party.  In typical fashion, we did it up (austerity?!).  My "sweet mama" brought a chocolate cake and we popped the tops on some Red Stripes and shook our hips to a little Soca on the hi-fi ... Which reminded me of some younger wanderations -- Caribbean and Central American trekking when I first bought Soca music from shops where they dubbed your selections for you while you waited.