Go for the food, stay for the Island Vibes

I’m not Jamaican. But before moving to New Mexico, I had only lived in three other states — Florida, New York and Connecticut — which, unbeknownst to me, are the three U.S. states with the highest concentrations of Jamaicans, according to World Population Review. And for over seven of those pre-New Mexico years, I was also living full-time with a Jamaican — my now ex-partner — immersed in Jamaican culture.

In South Florida and New York City, by the way, there aren’t just “Jamaican restaurants.” People specialize. If you want patties, you go to a patty place. You want jerk, you go to a jerk place. You want great vegetarian food cooked by conscientious Rastafarians, you go to an Ital place — which, by the way, has nothing to do with Italian food, despite the popularity of so-called “Rasta pasta.”

On many a lazy Sunday morning, my partner and I would put a Bob Marley mix on Spotify and sing along as we cooked up some ackee and saltfish, the classic Jamaican breakfast food. Those old-school Marley tunes were comfort food for us as much as the ackee was, helping us decompress from the previous week.

Ackee was always easy to come by, too. Well, canned ackee. Unripe ackee is poisonous and therefore illegal to import into the U.S., although it grows freely all over Jamaica, and people know what to do with it there. But every city I ever lived in had grocery stores that sold canned ackee, as well as fresh green bananas, Jamaican pumpkins, Scotch bonnet peppers and all the other island essentials.

It wasn’t until I got to Albuquerque that I realized what a bubble I’d been living in my whole life. The percentage of Jamaicans in New Mexico is smaller even than Alaska’s, and I sorely felt their absence. I missed Jamaican culture even more than I missed the ocean.

Fortunately, there are at least a few Jamaicans in Albuquerque, and two Jamaican restaurants — A Taste of the Caribbean and Island Vibes Cuisine — a short drive from my home. Both serve high-quality food, but Island Vibes is the place I go when I’m feeling homesick and nostalgic. A Taste of the Caribbean is more of a take-out place, but Island Vibes with its high ceilings, Rasta-colored walls and 12 dining tables, is a place you can actually sit and eat. Big windows let in plenty of light. And there’s always good, old-school Jamaican music playing. I came there first for the food, but what brought me back were the vibes.

My most recent visit was early afternoon on a Saturday. I asked if they were still serving ackee, and, to my delight, they were. Island Vibes doesn’t fry up their ackee and saltfish in a lot of oil, the way my ex and I did. Their version feels much lighter and healthier. They add green and red bell peppers and onions to the yellow, fluffy, buttery ackees — a traditional variant that calls to mind a Denver omelette. They don’t over-handle the saltfish, either, so it stays in nice big chunks. At $16, it’s a good value.

My ackee and saltfish came with a salad of freshly shredded lettuce, carrots and cabbage, plus three billiard ball-sized fried dumplings, the Jamaican answer to hush puppies. On top of the ackee, they placed a few slices of sweet plantain, which rhymes with “mountain” in Jamaican English, by the way, if you want to pronounce it correctly.

Like every Jamaican restaurant in the world, apart from a few very bougie ones in Brooklyn, the food at Island Vibes is served in Styrofoam containers. But the presentation is still spot-on — bright, beautiful and inviting.

Jamaican cuisine is heavy on the carbs and starches, which is what I’m used to. So, along with my fried dumplings, I ordered a side of bammy ($5), a cassava-paste fritter that’s extra crispy on the outside and scrumptiously chewy on the inside. Fresh from the fryer, it was just right.

There are lots of juice options, too, including homemade sorrel — a red hibiscus drink — but I opted for a bottle of pineapple ginger by Tropical Rhythms ($6).

I also got a spicy beef patty ($5), which wasn’t as spicy as most. That’s good, I guess, unless you’re a capsaicin addict like me. But it was savory and satisfying, with a caramelized onion flavor and just a hint of Scotch bonnet. The very best thing about Island Vibes’ patties, though, is they don’t skimp on the filling. Those puppies are plump!

As I ate, several families came and went. Some stayed to eat. I heard Jamaican patois and Haitian Creole, along with the usual Spanish and English. Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” came on, and an older gentleman hummed and sang quietly to himself. Others nodded. I truly felt like I was back on the East Coast, a home away from home.

Go for the food, stay for the Island Vibes