Eating at the Jamaican Jerk Hut at Mojo’s is an exercise in patience. First, they’re only open Wednesday to Saturday. Second, it’s a scattershot scene over there. One minute my “Jamaican Beef Patti” is on it’s way out. Then it’s still cooking. Then, “Jim” didn’t know there was something in the oven and turned it off. So, after three backs and forth, no beef patti for me.
Nevermind, the rest of the meal was more than ample. The jerk wings are indeed a large as advertised. Tender and smothered in sauce, they’re satisfying but ultimately forgettable. Once you get past the sauce, the wings themselves have very little flavor.
And then onto the goat. Heaps of slow-stewed goatmeat and potatoes arrive on a bed of well-seasoned rice and you wonder, “Maybe I should have tried an appetizer portion.” Goat is an acquired taste. And though I could appreciate the dish being well-executed, it’s not one I’ve acquired myself. Alternately fatty and tender, strong and subtle, the goat is an assault on the senses. Throw in innumerable bone chips that kept popping up and you end up like me, with two-thirds of your meal staring back accusingly on your plate.
So, good to try, don’t need to do it again. I’ll definitely be back to try their hand at the other offerings, which include pork and chicken sandwiches, shrimp and other curries. It just won’t be for the goat.