Jamaican Breakfast Of Champions

If you walk into Spud's Diner in small town rural Eastern Ontario, and order a big breakfast, you can expect eggs how you like 'em, some kind of meat, home fries, and toast with maybe a slice of orange or tomato on the side so you can pretend that the breakfast you're eating really isn't sending your cholesterol levels into alien realms. Sure, and there are other things on the menu - pancakes, waffles, french toast - but eggs are what I think of when I'm going out for breakfast.

And eggs for breakfast there are aplenty at restaurants in Negril, Jamaica...

...that is, if you aren't opting for a "traditional" Jamaican breakfast of ackee and saltfish, johnnycakes, callaloo, fried breadfruit and/or plantain, fresh pineapple juice with ginger, and lots and lots of Blue Mountain coffee. Ah, my mouth waters and a story about these delights is brewing...

...but for now, back to eggs.

My husband and I were on a 3 week vacation in Negril last winter and stayed at a boutique hotel which did not have any kind of kitcheny-type equipment in the room - no plates or utensils, no microwave, hot plate or fridge. We did have an ice filled cooler which we stocked with beer and mixes for rum drinks from heaven, but the cooler was not roomy enough or cold enough for things like milk or yogourt. Besides, we had our priorities, and when the choice is between either chilling the beer or chilling the milk, well, what can I say? There is no choice.

Now, sitting on a beach reading all day is intense work, and one must prepare oneself for such a day with a hearty breakfast. And since sitting on a beach reading is what we did most days - those days freckled with periodic and refreshing dunks in the ocean - we sought and enjoyed many a wonderful breakfast at several of the local restaurants on the beach. My favourite breakfast was callaloo omelette and since I knew I wouldn't be getting callaloo just any old day when we returned to Canada, I ordered one almost every day. My husband was more adventurous than I and had callaloo omelettes every other day. On alternate days, he'd have cheese omelettes.

One morning about half way into our vacation, we discussed the possibility that we were perhaps enjoying too much of a good thing, and opted to give omelettes a rest for the day. We had seen a sign for a cafe and pastry shop at a souvenir mall close to our hotel and decided to give it a try.

"Cafe" conjures for me an image of sitting outside at a little table for two, steaming cups of rich java before us and a selection of sweet and maybe savoury pastries from which to choose.

Note: We had visited Provincetown just the spring before this trip and I had in mind breakfasts at the Portuguese Bakery downtown where every morning there is a huge glass case full of equally delectable pastries and breads. We discovered that a Negril cafe and a Portuguese bakery have very little in common.

The Jamaican Breakfast of Champions story continues here.



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