Miami, Florida is where I first fell in love with oxtails. 🇯🇲🔥
Not the trendy kind.Not the rushed kind.
I’m talking West Indy cooking. Jamaican cooking.That down-home Grandma slow-cooking on a Sunday kind of love.
You could smell it before you saw it.Pot low and slow…Onions, thyme, scotch bonnet whispering in the air.Oxtails breaking down until they fall apart without asking.
That was the lesson before I even knew I was learning one:👉🏾 Good food takes time.👉🏾 Flavor is patience.👉🏾 Love lives in the pot.
That Miami influence shaped how I cook today.Respect the process.Respect the culture.Respect the ancestors who cooked with nothing but time and heart.
If you know, you know.And if you don’t… I’m here to teach it. 🍲🔥
Welcome to the class.