Taking Stock: Caribbean Food In New York City
By Alexandra Foster
Jerk chicken is part of the spread at any family gathering and a staple at New York’s mom-and-pop Jamaican restaurants. Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash.
In New York City, there are plenty of places to get Caribbean food. Most offer fast-casual fare in to-go containers and won’t break the bank. Caribbean cuisines are full of life, flavor and vibrancy but typically they aren’t associated with fine dining. Upscale Caribbean restaurants do exist, but they are few and far between.
I began to wonder why this is. Why has Caribbean cuisine been relegated to the lower price rungs of the culinary world? What elements have contributed to it being associated with inexpensive take out?
Within the past few decades, many other immigrant groups in New York have positioned their food to become affiliated with gourmet cuisine. Take Chinese, for example: You can find $5 pork dumplings at Nom Wah Tea Parlor in Chinatown or splurge on a $500, 19-course tasting menu at Chef Guo in Midtown.
This duality illustrates the range a cuisine can have and showcases that it doesn’t need to fall under one category. Caribbean food can be both cheap and haute cuisine. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. There is a place for the inexpensive eats, with one of my friends arguing that some of the best Caribbean food comes in styrofoam containers. But there should also be a place for those who desire a gourmet Caribbean experience.
It’s time for Caribbean cuisine to get the recognition it deserves. While they’re popular among Caribbean-Americans who grew up eating these foods, more people should be exposed to the rich flavors and heart-warming dishes the cuisine has to offer. It is my hope that one day oxtail can be as ubiquitous as filet mignon. I want not only for my family to be able to experience Caribbean cuisine in a more gourmet fashion but for others to as well.
In the confines of the culinary world, success is often measured by James Beard Awards and Michelin Stars. While these awards do not define what delicious food is or which restaurants offer a worthy experience, it still serves as a representation of the hard work a chef and their team has put in, with a hefty price tag to match. Many Caribbean cultures emphasize a strong work ethic, yet unfortunately many of the islands are still recovering from colonization. By getting the food in more affluent spaces, the cuisine itself can serve as an opportunity to boost their economic standing.
For far too long, the culinary world has pushed the same cuisines. With copious Italian, French, and Japanese restaurants scattered throughout New York City, it’s time to level the playing field, diversify what’s considered fine dining and make room for Caribbean cuisine to shine. Provide spaces for Caribbean chefs to be able to take risks and play with avant-garde concepts so that the nuanced flavors that were founded on the islands can be manifested here in new ways.
Caribbean chefs are actively working to introduce innovative techniques to welcome in a new audience and appreciation for Caribbean culture as a whole. In doing so, they are telling their story through their food.
Growing up Caribbean
The Caribbean encompasses many countries including the Dominican Republic, Cuba and Jamaica, which represent the largest Caribbean immigrant communities in New York City. As someone of Jamaican descent, I’ve mostly focused on Jamaican restaurants and spoken to Jamaican sources. More generally, though, Caribbean food has come to be somewhat synonymous with Jamaican cuisine across New York City.
For those of the diaspora, good Caribbean food transports you to the nostalgic comforts of home. My mother, Angela Foster, is a first-generation Jamaican American and recalls eating traditional dishes prepared by my grandmother, Doris Gunter, who migrated to the U.S. from Clarendon, Jamaica, in the 1960s. She settled in Harlem and cooked dishes she was familiar with such as rice and peas, curry chicken, ackee and saltfish, codfish fritters and cornmeal porridge.
“I would call it a comfort food for me,” my mom says. “It’s complex, filling, earthy, and it reminds me of my childhood.”
But comfort food doesn’t mean boring or bland. My cousin, Wayne Wright, who also grew up in Clarendon, alludes to technique arguing that it sets it apart from other cuisines.
“The way we season is…purposeful,” he says. “If you’re making oxtail, you’re putting thyme, scallions, onions, pimento seeds, carrots, all these things add a large amount of flavor. You season it from the night before so the flavor can soak in. You’re not just sprinkling some seasoning on it and putting it in the pan. That’s not how we cook.”
Caribbeans, like many others, use food as a tool with which to show love, to celebrate milestones, to enjoy one another’s company. And often, there’s a lot of it. As my father jokes, whenever my mother cooks it’s as if she’s cooking for an army. Flashback to any family gathering: I always remember a massive spread with jerk chicken, rice and peas, mac and cheese, stewed cabbage and baskets of flaky roti piled high.
My friend Kaniel, who grew up in Montego Bay with parents in the restaurant business, expressed similar sentiments.
“When I think about Caribbean food, it’s kind of like a fellowship food,” he says. “My mother doesn’t just cook for us. She cooks for churches, for the community, and that tradition didn't really change once we got here.”
In fact, this is the model at Sisters Cuisine, a family-run Caribbean restaurant founded in 1995 by Marlyn Rogers, a Guyanese immigrant. She tasted food elsewhere, was dissatisfied and decided she could do it better. The small restaurant has bright pink walls and Caribbean-influenced artwork with a notable sign that reads “Immigrants. We get the job done.”
“I come from a big family,” says her son, Chef RanDe Rogers, who’s now the restaurant’s owner and executive chef. “That’s just sort of a custom in our culture to do big pot cooking out back over a fire. And so we've been doing big batch cooking [at Sisters], always fresh and daily.”
Cooking large batches does not mean skimping on the succulent flavors of onion, garlic, allspice, scotch bonnet and wiri wiri peppers. Sisters’ menu is a reflection of the family’s Guyanese heritage with other Caribbean and Southern influences. Most dishes are family recipes passed down with a twist as Rogers added his own touch to bring a modern flair.
“The restaurant was struggling when I was in college, and when I graduated, I was asked to come in and help right the ship,” he says. “So I took over front of house, our digital presence, I taught myself all the dishes and ended up taking over as head owner.”
“Our curries are really slammin’,” he continues. “You’ve gotta bloom it good, which is frying the curry powder in a certain type of way to bring out the sharpness in the flavor profile. Otherwise, it can come out really flat, which is what I see a lot.”
Often Caribbean dishes are associated with being spicy, but the right type of heat is key. As someone who embarrassingly can’t handle much heat, I can’t attest to this. But Kaniel insists.
“You can just tell when someone uses a scotch bonnet pepper versus a poblano pepper because of the flavor,” he says. “The flavor of it supersedes.”
It needs to be deliberate too, not just thrown in to make the dish as hot as possible. Rogers admits that Sisters’ curry goat is pretty spicy, but he says the heat is needed to cut the gaminess.
He describes Caribbean food as powerful, and from the devoted community he’s built, it’s clear his patrons agree. People from various backgrounds swear by his food, including Marcus Samuelsson’s wife, who indulged in their food while she was pregnant, and Questlove, who featured Sisters in a Seamless commercial. Despite all the acclaim, one of the most expensive items on the menu—oxtail with curried chickpeas, potatoes and fresh, made-to-order roti—goes for $22.
Cost and Contributing Inequities
Despite the labor required to craft its distinct flavors, overwhelmingly the expectation is that traditional Caribbean food will be relatively cheap.
“If I see jerk chicken for anything more than $20, the portion has to be immense or it has to be smoked in the back outside in someone’s drum that they shipped from Jamaica themselves,” Kaniel jokes.
Prior to delving deeper into this topic, I also thought of Caribbean food as a strictly casual, inexpensive affair. Wright pushes back on that.
“I’m always disappointed that there aren’t that many nicer places to go,” he says. “I love Jamaican food. I would love to be able to go sit down in an elegant Jamaican restaurant and eat a nice meal, but there’s not always someplace to go to. So, I just pick on the quality of the food.”
But what one is willing to pay is heavily influenced by where the restaurant itself is situated. In New York, there are a multitude of small mom-and-pop shops, corner stores and street carts that offer inexpensive Caribbean food, such as the iconic Culpepper’s in Crown Heights where you can get an entire platter of curry goat, rice and peas, plantains and cabbage for under $10. At the fast-casual chain Golden Krust, you can get a patty and coco bread for just $3.
The majority of these places are concentrated in areas with large Caribbean populations, such as Harlem, Queens and a section of Brooklyn known as Little Caribbean that consists of Crown Heights, Flatbush and East Flatbush. According to records from NYU’s Furman Center, 85.8 percent of East Flatbush’s residents identify as Black, and the average household income is $63,990, roughly 12 percent less than the citywide average of $72,930. The prices in these neighborhoods are a reflection of what the Caribbean immigrants that settled in them can afford.
Within the last century, many Caribbeans immigrated to New York City in search of greater opportunities. According to 2019 records from the Migration Policy Institute, there are more than 1 million Caribbean immigrants in New York, representing 24 percent of the total immigrant population, with Jamaican immigrants alone representing 5.3 percent. Caribbeans settled in distinct parts of the city, creating their own communities out of a desire to establish a sense of familiarity in their new surroundings. This isn’t unique to Caribbeans but mimics patterns of separation across the U.S.
At the fast-casual chain Golden Krust, you can get a patty and coco bread for just $3. Photo by ritcharnd moskow from Toshi Station, USA, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
For many of these immigrants, their educational backgrounds relegated them to being low income. According to a 2019 article by the Migration Policy Institute, fewer Caribbean adults have finished high school than U.S. adults (9 percent compared to 23 percent), and on average, 17 percent of Caribbeans in the U.S. live in poverty. Nationally, the average Caribbean household has a lower median income of $47,000 in comparison to $60,800 for the average U.S. household.
In a city as expensive as New York, that disparity affects purchasing power, and with the cost of rent, puts anyone wanting to open a restaurant at a distinct disadvantage.
Even for those fortunate enough to acquire space, tight margins and low profits could lead to failure. Wright shares that for a lot of business owners who do survive, they’re living paycheck to paycheck. They couldn’t create fancier spaces even if they wanted to.
“They pay their bills,” he says. “They’re not expanding or buying a bigger house or going on a big vacation. They’re just making it through. They’ll be doing this until they can’t do it anymore. It’s unfortunate.”
In addition to financial hardship, Caribbean immigrants have experienced discrimination faced by Black and brown people in the U.S. If they’re treated as second class, their food may have a similar reception.
Which cuisines have been deemed prestigious reflects the historical and societal inequities present in New York. These inequities can even be observed on the same block. Freda’s, a Caribbean restaurant on the wealthy Upper West Side, sells an entree of jerk chicken with rice and peas plus two sides for $12.50. On the opposite side of the street, Ortomare, an Italian restaurant, sells its chicken parmigiana served with spaghetti in a tomato and basil sauce for $26.50. That’s nearly double the price for roughly the same amount of food, and both dishes feature chicken as the main protein.
With the rising costs of food and impacts of inflation, it goes without saying that these restaurateurs too are being affected. Nationally, the price of chicken increased almost 15 percent from October 2021 to October 2022, according to the U.S. Department of Labor’s Consumer Price Index. Other staples such as eggs, butter and oil have seen some of the highest rates of inflation. Thus, if the cost of ingredients is rising, it may prove even more challenging for restaurants living on the margin to stay afloat considering other expenses such as rent and labor.
While it’s true that one’s taste mostly determines their spending habits and palate, race can play a huge factor. Implicit biases about Black people, how they act, their work ethic and their education level can shape the way their food is valued.
“I don’t think people go out to be this way, but they’re so programmed to be biased,” Wright says. “Certain things are considered better because they’re European. It’s like the moment they find out it's owned by a Black or Caribbean person, it tastes different.”
Furthermore, if people are unfamiliar with the cuisine in the first place, they’re likely not going to spend a significant amount of money on it, according to a study conducted by Kwon et al. published in the Journal of Foodservice Business Research in October 2021 on why Caribbean food is less popular among Americans. The study found that cooking style swayed participants from wanting to try Caribbean food again or eat it more frequently, with many turned off by it being boiled, deep-fried or too sweet. Lots of American foods are boiled, deep-fried or super sweet so that answer doesn’t tell the full story.
The Limits of Language
Language can also serve as a barrier and shape one’s perception of what food is worth. The term “authentic” is often used to describe a traditional version of a dish or cuisine; its preparation is classic and original in form. In recent years, “authentic” has become associated with inexpensive street food or smaller family run businesses alongside phrases like “hole in the wall” or “mom and pop.”
The term “fine dining” on the other hand, is used to signify elitism. When I asked my family and friends what comes to mind when they think of fine dining, I heard iterations of the same things: exceptional service, small plates, tiny portions, quality hospitality and a particular dress code. Skill set and how difficult the dishes are to prepare were also contributing factors. Fine dining is fancy, expensive and sophisticated. It’s not solely about the food. That experiential component can sway how much people will pay for a meal.
There are other aesthetic factors at play, as well. The descriptive terms a restaurant uses to describe the dish also play a critical role in determining what one is willing to pay. You might not shell out on “authentic ackee and saltfish,” but you may for “sautéed ackee served with a scotch bonnet crème fraiche.” Furthermore, the visual appearance of a dish at a casual Caribbean restaurant typically isn’t meticulously constructed, as is the standard with fine dining. All of these things can be done; they just require budget, time, and labor.
When asked about what cuisines they associated with fine dining, again the answer was unanimous among my family and friends: French, possibly Italian, overall European. As New York University professor Dr. Krishnendu Ray writes in The Restaurants Book: Ethnographies of Where We Eat, fine dining is indeed historically rooted in French haute cuisine. This standard has greatly influenced which cuisines are regarded as fine dining today.
Ray’s research also reveals that of New York City’s Zagat-rated restaurants, American, French and Italian consistently rank quite highly while others such as Creole and Indian remain at the bottom across the board. He further delves into the workforce, illustrating that most minorities work in the back of the kitchen.
Caribbean wasn’t even on the list, which I believe is due in part to the opportunities chefs of color lack. Nonwhite chefs tend to be devalued, discriminated against and excluded from positions where they’re leading kitchens, creating menus or known to the public. The path to gaining exposure is all the more difficult.
Taking it to the Next Level
Still, in New York, some Caribbean chefs and restaurateurs are utilizing innovative techniques to merge the flavors of the islands with a more high-end setting. These restaurants tend to be located in wealthier areas of Manhattan and Brooklyn. The dishes offered, their price points, and the neighborhoods in which they are situated all speak to a more affluent crowd.
Take, for example, Jasmine’s Caribbean Cuisine, on Times Square’s Restaurant Row. Its menu features dishes inspired by many of the Caribbean islands such as Antigua and Dominica, where owner Jasmine Gerald’s family originates from. She opened during the peak of the pandemic, falling in love with the space after acquiring it from a friend. No stranger to the restaurant industry, she knew she had the skill set, tenacity and drive to make it work. Her mother ran a restaurant in the Virgin Islands for over a decade, and she also has over 20 years of experience in the beauty industry working as a celebrity hair stylist.
Being in the heart of Times Square has also proven to be ideal for Jasmine’s. Advertising done by Restaurant Row assists in promoting the restaurant, although much can be attributed to word of mouth.
“We definitely have a lot of recurring customers that come back all the time,” Gerald says. “But throughout the week, we see a lot of tourists. They love the food, they love the energy. I had a guy come in the other day from Missouri who said, ‘This is the best food I’ve had in a while.’”
Dishes range from classics such as oxtail, ackee and saltfish, and curry chicken to fusion dishes created in collaboration with head chef Basil Jones, like codfish empanadas, coconut salmon and jerk chicken wings. The restaurant offers plant-based options, such as vegan stew peas and veggie fry up, and an ample cocktail selection including signatures such as the Ting-a-Ling and Scandal Rum Punch.
The bustling ambiance and bright decor match the energy of Times Square. Both the exterior and interior of the restaurant are colored in bright shades of turquoise, orange and yellow with accents of luscious green palm fronds. Sounds of reggae play in the background.
“When you walk in, you feel like you’re in the Caribbean,” Gerald says. “That’s what I wanted to do, just bring the culture there because a lot of people have never experienced Caribbean food before. That was important for me.”
Presentation is also of importance as dishes are plated with an elegant hand and decorated with tropical flowers so the food is pleasing to both the eye and the stomach.
“The taste is not just on top of the food, it’s penetrated to the bone,” Gerald says. “Some of my customers say, ‘I could chew up the bone and still taste the flavor.’ You will always remember the taste. The smell, the aroma of the food, it just calls you.”[1]
Miss Lily’s has also been key in establishing a nouveau take on Caribbean cuisine. Aside from its location in the East Village, it has spots in Dubai and Negril and ships across the U.S. on Goldbelly. While the key dishes remain the same across venues, individual locations tailor them slightly based on what’s available locally and what the vibe is.
Chef Andre Fowles, culinary director of Miss Lily’s, grew up in Kingston from humble beginnings, but food was always at the forefront of his life. Taking inspiration from his grandmother who was an amazing cook, Fowles went on to pursue his passion for cooking and attended culinary school. Originally chef de cuisine, he helped formulate menus and aided in the development of their multiple locations. Today, he acts as more of a brand rep promoting Miss Lily’s approach to Caribbean cuisine.
“We wanted to do a little bit of both, where guests can experience some authentic Jamaican food but then some interpretation of what Caribbean food means to us,” Fowles says. “So, you’ll get jerk chicken, you’ll get oxtail, but then you’ll have something more chef-inspired like a jerk ramen. We didn’t want it to be stuck in a regular Caribbean restaurant. We wanted to show unique stuff to keep diners coming in.”
In addition to its inventive food, Miss Lily’s has an undeniably vibrant social energy. It offers bottomless brunch on the weekends, and at night, staff push back the tables and turn it into a dancing atmosphere which leads to a pretty diverse crowd. Fowles recalls one night where he looked out and saw a bunch of white college guys jamming out to reggae and sipping on Red Stripes, a classic Jamaican beer.
“This is what I love about Caribbean restaurants,” Fowles says. “It doesn’t matter who you are. It doesn’t matter if you understand the words of the songs. It’s just a sensation that you’re getting.”
Changing the Narrative
The reception both restaurants have received demonstrates that Caribbean cuisine can hold in the ranks of haute cuisine. Both devote time to ensuring the decor, presentation of the food and the atmosphere make guests comfortable spending $20-30 for an entree.
“Caribbean food is a delicacy,” Gerald says. “Why is it that in different countries or states you only have one or two Caribbean restaurants? We all need to be on the same platform. It shouldn't be unique.”
Fowles concurs.
“Caribbean food can be fine dining, it is fine dining,” he says. “It’s just that we’re a little bit behind in terms of establishing more restaurants that are focused on that and readily available.”
Beyond his work at Miss Lily’s, Fowles has his own personal catering business and works as a private chef with an impressive array of celebrity clients. He’s also competed and won Food Network’s Chopped three times, always incorporating Caribbean influences.
“I love my country,” he says. “My goal as a chef is to always put Caribbean food in the spotlight and interpret that in different ways. When we’re doing a more elevated experience, such as James Beard House, and we want to show that there’s a range to Caribbean food, we’ll do a roast breadfruit gazpacho and a coconut shrimp ceviche with scotch bonnet oil. That’s applying global concepts but adding in Caribbean flavors. It’s a complete game changer.”
He wants to continue to champion Caribbean cuisine forward, and he has plans to do so. One goal is to build off of the success of a pop-up he hosted with Kings County Imperial restaurant and open a Jamaican-Chinese restaurant in New York. Another is to work on his own cookbook and get more people cooking Caribbean food in their home kitchens.
Similarly, Gerald strives to improve awareness and would love to expand her reach.
“I want to branch out and open up Caribbean restaurants in different states, so people can get the taste and feel of really good Caribbean food,” she says. “It doesn’t only start with me. I’m just the vessel for all of us.”
These two are pioneering the way for other Caribbean chefs and restaurateurs, showcasing that it has the potential to be fine dining. Because at the end of the day, the flavors speak for themselves.
