Walk down the alleyway where the Caribbean Spice Jerk center is located, and I guarantee you will walk straight past it without even a second glance. Hidden away under the arches of Peckham railway station is the incredibly unassuming but startlingly deceiving little Jerk takeaway. I was headed here for one thing and one thing only, the jerk pork.
I had just moved into my Peckham flat, and after surveying Food Stories for the local treats, an article mentioning her favourite jerk emporium had me salivating. I had to have it. Behind the counter stands a short Caribbean woman, casually conversing in patois with most of her clientele and it actually takes a little while for her to realise I am there. Once my order of Jerk pork is taken, she disappears into her kitchen out the back to carefully assemble my box of meat and rice.
