A Foodie’s Revelation: Falling in Love with Jamaica Through Flavor.

If you know me well, you know that my greatest pleasure is through my palate. I’m a self-proclaimed palate guru and bona fide foodie extraordinaire. Sure, I can be a little dramatic, but food is more than just sustenance for me—it’s an art, a science, and a cultural experience. As my father once told me, “Daughter, you don’t just eat food; you experience it.” He was absolutely right. 

I started calling myself a foodie in my pre-teen years, back in the late '90s or early 2000s. I vividly remember the moment. I was riding with my “nanny” (a New Orleans term for godmother, often your aunt), and we passed a place in Metairie, Louisiana, called Foodie’s Kitchen. Curious, I asked, “Who is Foodie?” I thought it was someone’s name. My nanny laughed and explained, “A foodie is someone who loves food—like you!” That was all I needed to hear. From that moment on, I proudly embraced the term as my descriptor. 

Will Travel for Food 

What many people don’t know about me is that I’m willing to travel for good food. Whether it’s a short drive or an international flight, I’ll go the distance if the cuisine is worth it. Growing up in New Orleans, where incredible food is a way of life, my standards were set high. For me, a destination’s food culture is often the deciding factor when choosing where to go. 

That’s why Jamaica was such a surprising revelation. Truthfully, it wasn’t even on my radar for food. My previous experiences in the Caribbean left me unimpressed—I blamed it on being a tourist or picking the wrong spots to eat. That ignorance led me to assume that no Caribbean country could top the flavors I grew up with in New Orleans. And the Jamaican restaurants I’d tried in Atlanta? They were just okay. 

But life has a funny way of humbling you. I was asked to spend four weeks in Kingston, Jamaica, for a work project. Initially, I hesitated. Jamaica wasn’t high on my travel list, and Kingston wasn’t the postcard-perfect paradise I envisioned. It was “real-life” Jamaica. I went with minimal expectations, and that turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life—not just as a foodie, but as a person. 

Discovering the Real Jamaica 

Kingston introduced me to the heart and soul of Jamaican culture, and my taste buds will never forget it. The food? Absolutely incredible. The people? Warm and welcoming. The scenery? Breathtaking. My time there was a revelation. 

Before Jamaica, I didn’t drink coffee. But after visiting the Blue Mountains, I found myself wanting to savor a cup. I tasted dishes I had never heard of: ackee and saltfish, callaloo, breadfruit, curry goat, jerk shrimp, oxtails—each one better than the last. Jamaican rum became a new favorite, and even coconuts—something I knew I didn’t like—won me over. 

I’ll never forget the moment I realized how wrong I had been about my preconceived notions. There I was, sitting on a tree stump, sipping coconut water straight from the shell. No utensils, no table manners—just raw, unfiltered enjoyment. Using bark to scrape out the coconut flesh and eating it with my hands felt primal, but also freeing. It was humbling and, oddly enough, one of the most “classy” moments of my life. 

A Love Letter to Jamaica 

Jamaica taught me lessons I didn’t even know I needed. It challenged my palate, broadened my understanding of food, and deepened my appreciation for culture. My ignorance had kept me from realizing how much the island had to offer, and now I can’t wait to return. 

So, if you’re like me—always in search of the next great flavor—don’t underestimate the places you think you already know. Sometimes, the best discoveries are the ones you never saw coming. 

Alexa, search flights from New Orleans to Jamaica. 

Until next time, be well—and keep exploring!