Page 34 of Winner Takes All

I look over at Nikki who’s wearing a look of wonder that simply fascinates me. Her eyes are wide and she’s taking it all in like she doesn’t want to miss a single detail of this journey. This is one more reason I’m falling so head over heels in love with her. I haven’t said the words because I fear they’ll scare her, but I feel them. I think I’ve felt them since high school even if I didn’t want to admit it then, and it scares me to admit it now.

We pull up to a home on the edge of town where a beautiful outdoor kitchen is set up in the midst of lush greenery. A tall, dreadlocked man stands and grins at us as we exit the vehicle. We have a driver today since we don’t know the area, and we want to taste all of the local drinks.

“Welcome,” the man calls to us, his voice deep and melodious, like he has a permanent song playing in his soul. “I’m Chef Jahmar, and today, you get the pleasure of learning how to cook Ital.”

Nikki looks confused. I’ve surprised her with this one. It’s a far lesser-known form of cooking in the Bahamas, and I know she’ll love it.

“Ital?” Nikki asks.

I look at her. “It’s a traditional Rastafarian cuisine. It’s all about natural ingredients with no salt, no preservatives, and no tricks. It’s pure food that’s good for the body and spirit. We get to use other spices, though, just no salt.”

Jahmar nods in approval. “You know a little, brother,” he says, clapping me on the back. “Today, though, you’re gonna learn a lot.”

He leads us to his outdoor kitchen where a collection of fresh vegetables, spices, and coconut milk are laid out. The rising sun is filtering through the canopy of trees above, casting dappled shadows over the wooden table. This feels like we’re in a secret garden, one filled with vibrant smells and sounds.

We immediately get to work. One thing I love about this place is they like to work hard all day, then play all night. They have a perfect balance of work, play, and love. It’s why I keep getting drawn back.

We chop vegetables under Chef Jahmar’s watchful eyes. I’ve always had a steady hand in the kitchen, so I slice through my pile with precision. Nikki, on the other hand, is making a bit of a mess, pieces of carrot and pumpkin flying everywhere. She laughs at her sloppiness. It might have something to do with our morning mimosas.

“You’re showing maximum finesse today, Nik,” I tease.

She sticks her tongue out at me, determined. “I’ve got this. I’m simply chopping with enthusiasm,” she replies.

“Or butchering, however you want to look at it,” I tease, moving closer to her. It seems I can’t get enough of our bodies touching these days. Her fingers brush mine and for a moment, everything slows down. I love the feel of her warmth, hercloseness, her scent. The more I’m with her the more I want to be.

“Less flirting and more cooking.” Jahmar’s voice breaks our moment, a wide grin on his face. “You two are like the pepper and the coconut. You’re very different, but you make the dish complete.”

I laugh before taking a step back. “We’re a perfect pairing,” I tell Nikki. I love the sound of this.

She smiles at me, her cheeks slightly flushed. We get back to chopping, stirring, and adding spices. Jahmar explains the principles behind Ital cooking, and how important it is to connect with the earth and all living things.

As the stew simmers, the rich smell fills the air and I feel a true sense of peace. This place has forced us both to slow down our usually fast-paced lives. I love it. Time flies, and soon our stew is ready.

We sit with Jahmar to have a great breakfast. The flavors are vibrant, fresh, and earthy. Nikki wasn’t sure she’d like this, but I see her face light up. “This is incredible,” she says.

“That’s because you can taste the love in the food,” I tell her.

Jahmar beams at us. “That’s the secret ingredient, brother. Love.”

We have a busy day, so after a lot of thanks and appreciation to Jahmar, we head back to our waiting vehicle and sadly leave the village around high noon. Our bellies are full of Ital stew and our spirts are lifted. We make our way to a local distillery for a rum tasting and chocolate pairing. It takes us about forty-five minutes to arrive. I watch Nikki’s reaction as I enjoy doing so much. She’s always awestruck.

This place is vibrant, alive with laughter, talking, and smells of sugar cane and spice. As we move around, our guide, Marcus, a tall man with a booming voice and a wide grin, greets us with enthusiasm.

“Welcome! You’re in for a treat today,” he bellows, his voice carrying across the room. “We’re gonna take you on a journey through the world of rum and chocolate, and by the end you’ll be certified connoisseurs, or at least pleasantly tipsy.”

Nikki’s eyes light up even more and she’s ready to dive in. We’re led to a long wooden table lined with small glasses of rum, each paired with a piece of rich, dark Jamaican chocolate. Marcus begins to walk us through the pairings, explaining the different notes and flavors we should be looking for, his voice full of energy and passion.

We begin with a light, golden rum paired with a creamy chocolate. I watch Nikki take a sip, her face a mix of concentration and delight as she tastes the rum, then the chocolate. She licks her lips, savoring the flavors.

“I love your pleasure in new experiences,” I tell her as I lean in close.

She grins at me. “What’s not to love about chocolate... with a bit of rum?”

“Just a bit?” I tease.

“Well, maybe a little more. I like rum, but chocolate beats it all.”

“You’ve always had a sweet tooth. I don’t think a day went by in high school that you weren’t munching on some form of chocolate.”

---