Chillin' on the Farm
Published:Friday | March 11, 2011 | 12:00 AM
The name Murray is synonymous with excellent jerked meats, so the Murray's Jerk is a must-stop for commuters who ply the Mandeville-to-Kingston route. The farm and eatery are just few hundred metres from popular fast-food franchise Juici Patties and was the perfect spot for Chilln' on the Farm, hosted by popular promoters Wright Image, comprising P.J. Wright and Gregory Wright, as well as Tony Murray of Murray's Farm.
P.J. Wright told The Gleaner that he arranged the party because it was the Ash Wednesday public holiday and "a way to get the party supporters from Kingston, May Pen and Mandeville to come out to the country for a change of scene. Everyone is always heading to a party in Kingston. This is a change for them," he said.
And they did turn out!
It's a great party location, bordered on one side by so-so bush and on two sides by mango, breadfruit, lime, cashew, soursop, ackee and orange trees. Tropical foliage hugs the side along the roadway. So, sponsors had more than ample space to display their signage and Appleton, Absolut, Tru-Juice, Calico Jack, Heineken, CB Chicken, Chivas, Alice White, Monkey Bay, Pepsi, Jablum, and J.Wray & Nephew White Rum, made good use of it.
The scrumptious menu comprised rice, curried goat, roti, battered fish fillet. It also featured jerked pork, jerked chicken and jerked sausage prepared by Michael Foster, as well as soup, fish wontons, pasta salad, festival and lots more, including copious amounts of fresh coconut water and peeled sugar cane. And it was all prepared by the farm's catering staff. One vendor, who set up beneath a Landstroke umbrella, provided all the extras including condoms, gum, cigarrettes, cigars, lighters and more.
The official party time was 2 p.m. to 10 p.m. but, upon our departure shortly after 8:30, many patrons were just arriving, and the dance floor had just begun to fulfil its intended purpose.
There is something very different about the way people dance at such parties today. Ace DJ Collin Hines was really rocking the venue but most of the dancing was done by women in clusters, while their men stood by, drink in hand, engaging each other in conversation. Ocasionally, the women pulled them in for a quick rub, grind or twirl, but the yellow-bordered dance floor lay desolate like a flat, black extra-terrestrial space that no human dared approach.
All was not lost, at 7:34 p.m., the first six women and one man proved equal to the intimidating object, stepped rhythmically on the black surface and the only damage done was the ooze of perspiration as the music took effect on their gyrating bodies. They were joined by a few fellow earthlings and this writer is willing to wager that humans conquered the dance floor as the night wore on.