Andra, a devotee of Norma Lou's food, says there's nothing like Norma's.
Rosemary Parkinson, Freelance Writer
Norma Lou's
31 Whitehall Avenue,
Kingston 8
Breakfast 8:30 a.m. to 11 a.m.
Lunch 11:30 onwards
Tel No. (876) 931 0064
WHAT AN experience I had this week. Norma Shirley of Norma's On The Terrace actually braved the Christmas traffic to introduce me to Norma Lou's the favourite stop of many well known Kingstonians, including restaurateur Colin Hilton from Guilt Trip.
"Is Colin usually bring me here, Rosie, so I feel a little lost," says she. "Don't worry. Hush. We go find it soon. Let me stop again and ask dis man. Hello, hello. Yu dey, wey Norma's?"
And true enough all up Whitehall Avenue everyone gave of their knowledge. 'Twas after I had politely asked the way once that I was informed: "You can't just stop and ask Jamaicans in such a lady-like way how to get to Norma's, you know, Rosie. Around here yu have to be assertive. Cookshop? Every time we stop you ask for Norma's Cookshop. Dat is too formal for Whitehouse, Whitehall whatever it name. Yu ain't see how dat Rasta jess look at you like you drop down from Mars? This is how you have to do it." With that we yet again made a grinding halt, so sudden that my bag emptied its contents into Madame's car. While I bent over to retrieve my belongings a voice of thunder suddenly belted, "Ey, yu dey! Yes. Yes. Yu dey, yu eediot, wey Norma's Norma's of Whitehall dem."
RUSSIAN ROULETTE
"Is t'ree roads yu muss pass. Go straight, yu can't miss it, it got nuff people. A likkle more and it's dey," said the Rasta, who seemed unaware of being called an eediot. And so it came to pass that we finally reached this tiny take-away on the side of the road, slam bang on the most dangerous corner of Whitehall Avenue, if you ask me. Trying to take photographs and purchase food around here was like playing Russian Roulette. One man screamed out his car window as he zoomed past "Yu selling dem flim eh" frightening the life out of me so much that a thousand dollar bill I was clutching in one hand flew away in the windblast caused by his exhaust. Someone along the way must have thought it was 'manna' from heaven for within seconds it was nowhere to be seen. Merry Christmas to you too.
WONDERING ABOUT MYSELF
Sometimes I really have to wonder about myself in truth - up in these alleys of nowhere, always on an adventure of a strange kind, always clutching a million items to do with my work in my gnarled fingers, hair blowing in the wind of passing cars, dress falling off my shoulders, camera dangling around my neck. Where's my notebook, where's my pen, where are my glasses. No, not the shades, the clear ones. Where did I leave this? Where did I leave that? Do I have my head on my shoulders?
And then the people and their comments: "Mi? Mi nuh like mi photo taken. Ah seh no!"; "Yu gwine mekk me a star, yu gwine sell mi face? Gi mi money den."
Take all of this and blend it in with Norma Shirley who turned to me on the way home as I sat covered in curry goat gravy and rice that had tumbled out the box having turned a corner on two wheels and said, "How it is you always losing things Rosie. You must try and get yourself organised, do."
Okay then, then. There's a book to be written I am sure about driving with my good friend Miss Norma. There's a book also to be written about a day in the life of this food reviewer. Believe you me.
THERE'S NOTHING LIKE NORMA'S
At least 20 people of all ages were groping at the wrought iron that framed Norma Lou's take away. Cries of "four curry goat, one peas and pig's tail, three chicken foot with white rice, one brown stew chicken, four small rice and peas with beef" rang through the air while those inside answered the telephone, cooked up a storm, stirred huge iron pots, packed the various orders, made change and systematically served as many hungry people as fast as they could.
I am told that this is normal as this scenario takes place every day of the week, including Saturdays. One young lady with an amazing hairstyle, tight jeans and top, arm covered with 'got-dem-in-New-York' tattoos obviously had ordered by phone. Her food came quickly and she rushed off, refusing a Kodak moment. Easy come, easy go. But God was good to me that day.
Another lass, Andra, with garnet eyes, pure black hair, a Jamaican smile and a willingness for a photo shoot that threw me aback, tucked into her food informing me, "This is de place. There's nothing like Norma's. I love it."
Norma's has been on this spot for some 16 years and has never failed her 'groupies'. For 'groupies' they are, telling you straight they will eat nowhere else. Norma, unfortunately, was nowhere to be seen on this afternoon but her daughter fitted in as though she were the lady herself. We bought Curry Goat with White Rice, Oxtail with Rice and Peas, Red Peas and Beef and, my absolute favourite, Chicken Foot Curry and Rice. Oh, and a Norma's Sorrel.
Back at the ranch the taste testing began. Ms. Shirley enjoyed the peas thoroughly but found the oxtail had too much of a ketchup taste. I thought the same. The watery sorrel needed more sorrel. The curry goat was delicious but I handed that to Bacchus who had been slaving over the Christmas tree at Norma's On The Terrace all day (by the way a big-up to all the staff there Troy, Kerry, Omar, Robert, Devon and those in the kitchen).
CHICKEN FOOT A DAY
KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY
Because I believe that chicken foot is food for the gods I placed the whole meal neatly on one of Ms. Norma Shirley's gourmet plates, sat myself down on the beautifully decorated Christmas tables and with finger bowl and lemon at my side dug in hand to mouth, sucking every little bit of flesh and juice off those feet. Dem Amuhrricans up foreign, overseas and abroad should eat more chicken foot and it would not matter one iota if de flu vaccine run out. A chicken foot a day keeps the doctor away. And if you think this is joke, read the latest research on the enzymes that they produce. Nothing like a 'stepper' to keep flu at bay. Norma Lou dat was a mean chicken foot and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I promised to say hello to Pahilaj Soni at Sunshine Plaza, Negril -- a Merry Christmas to all at NCB, all those hardworking people in all of Negril too. The season is on so take care and walk good.
"Forrest, life is like a box of chocolates you never know what you're going to get."
'Forrest Gump', film and novel.
