No jerk available
Pushed by the sight of an empty jerk jar, I decided to cross the road. There; a little ambivalence to start the evening.
Actually, my treasured bottle of Jamaican spice (jerk) is gone. Never has so little burned so many intestinal tracts. I can’t remember where I purchased it, but I’ll have to go back. A lot of pork loin to bake. Anyhow, IGA doesn’t carry the product line, so I went next door to Super C.
Not something I’ll do again soon. Spent more time seeking than shopping, and having forgotten to take the bag of bags from inside the house, I couldn’t carry the stuff out. A waste of time. Plus, although the selection of sauces for Indian cuisine was extensive, there was no jerk. There. Settled. I did buy some coffee, given that their grinder was reasonably clean and it did have more than one setting. There was also a bin of beans marked as “Costa Rica”. Saved a trip into the Old City.
This is starting to feel like the winter hat wasn’t. Patches of lawn showing by the side of the house. A driveway that is down to the gravel. A walkway that is bare of snow and ice. We’re two weeks away from the start of Carnaval, and they’ve brought snow cannons into the area near the palace. Desperate measures.
Remember; this city believes itself to be the Winter Wonderland. Ready to present an Olympic bid. Fond of its reputation. We look like Halifax! And Halifax has snow! The world is upside down.
