The tasty jerk chicken
Tuesday, February 27th, 2007I have had such a nice weekend. Despite the negative comments, which is expected from what I can only describe as very jealous narrow minded hypocritical asian men, I plan to see Dante again next weekend.
He came round on Saturday night, I didn’t have anything planned and wasn’t sure whether i’ll be going out to the pictures or for a meal, so I wore my favourite jeans, a slinky top and put my hair up in curls. I had been nervous the whole day, Raeni was trying her best to help and was dancing around the living room telling me all about Jamaica. She was very pleased that I was going out with a Jamaican man and was already planning the honeymoon!
I have not been out with someone properly since my ex boyfriend. Dates with him use to consist of being picked up around the corner from my mum’s house, going to the Trafford Centre to watch a Bollywood movie and then getting a quick bite to eat at one of the restaurants. If we had some extra time, that will be taken up by making out in the back seat of his car which will be parked in some dimly lit car park.
My ex husband never even took me out, he never learnt how to.
But on Saturday I felt very much like a lady, I had my own house and my date was coming to meet me in my home, there was no hiding from parents, I didn’t feel like the awkward teenager that I was when I met my ex boyfriend, I felt like a woman, I had grown up and now I wanted to be treated like a lady despite the nerves that where working overtime in my stomach.
Dante was 40 mins late getting to mine. I resisted from ringing to see where he was and at one point thought he wasn’t going to turn up. Raeni had gone out for the night and I was beginning to think that turning up late wasn’t a very good sign at all. Just as I was about to give up on him, I heard his Golf R32 pull up outside.
He rang the door bell and I almost tripped running to the door. I held a book in my hand pretending that I was too busy reading to even notice that he had been late.
On the doorstep stood Dante wearing a white T-shirt, which showed off his build, he was very toned and muscular, complete opposite to my ex whose t-shirt often fit me very nicely. He wore faded jeans and very bright blue trainers, which actually looked nice. In his hands he was holding two bags of what looked like groceries.
Dante apologised for being late and said he had wanted to surprise me with a home cooked meal. The reason he was late was because he bought the chicken from Asda and then remembered I was Muslim so had to run into Longsight and pick up a halal chicken from one of the shops and with traffic everywhere he got a bit late.
I told him it was sweet but that I hadn’t even noticed he was late.
Anyway he went straight into the kitchen and started taking his shopping out and told me he was going to make Jamaican jerk chicken and rice. I was surprised he could cook. But he told me he was a great chef and that I should just relax. Oh he did notice my hair and clothes and told me I looked very sexy. But I was still so nervous and was making cups of tea to calm my nerves down.
Dante was born and raised in Manchester, his parents had emigrated from Jamaica as young children. His mum was four-years-old when she came to Manchester. At the time most Jamaican families lived very near each other, mainly in Hulme and then moved to Moss Side and as more people came from Jamaica they all settled around each other.
It’s a bit like the Asian community who settled in certain areas of the city in the 60s, they all had one thing in common, to work and go back to their home country. But like Dante’s family and I suppose even mine, they all eventually remained in the UK making this their home. Like us Asians, Dante was also sent to Jamaica for holidays to learn about his own culture and roots. He told me about the villages he had visited where chickens were freshly slaughtered for dinner every night, it was a bit like Bangladesh, the last time I was there my dad had fresh chicken almost every day, they use to run around free all the time.
Dante’s mum had taught all her children how to cook and he loved Jamaican dishes along with fish and chips. Like me he saw himself as British, after all we are British born, but he had a lot of respect for his own cultural background.
I found Dante really interesting, in many ways his community was so similar to ours, we were’t that different at all. He was very passionate about things and he found me and my culture fascinating too. I was the first Asian girl he had been out with.
He kept on telling me how beautiful he thought I was and he couldn’t stop staring at me when he first met me. I’d never been complimented so much in my life, at times i’d have a sneak look at the mirror to see what he saw. I never thought of myself as drop dead gorgeous but that’s how he made me feel.
To top it off the meal was fantastic. There’s one thing I am not shy about and that’s eating. He filled my plate up with rice and chicken and it went down fast. The food was delicious and am still craving some more. He was surprised that I was such a big eater, I told him I loved food especially when it was as tasty as his jerk chicken and promised to cook him a meal very soon.
After dinner, I quickly washed the dishes and we settled in the lounge. At that point I was even more nervous. I was hoping he wasn’t expecting sex that night, there was no way I was going to give myself away to a man that I had just met, and I didn’t want to sound like a prude by telling him I didn’t want to have sex, he might not have even thought about it and I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, but it just made me even more nervous and I even stuttered a few times.
I think he was able to sense this. We had the TV on and was I just chatting about Desperate Housewives and I was insisting that he must watch it. But I was sat at one end of the couch and he was on the other, not particularly cosy. He then started moving close and I thought I was going to release a hundred butterflies flying straight from my stomach and out of my mouth.
He took my hands into his and started stroking my face, telling me how soft my skin was. He was looking directly into my eyes and was moving forward. I hadn’t kissed a man since my ex boyfriend. I had never kissed my husband and wasn’t sure what to do nut I saw myself fall into his arms as he kissed me softly. Instead of holding back I kissed him back, but it was nice and soft and sent a tingly feeling down my back.
He then moved his head away from mine, put one arm around me and held my hands with the other. I wasn’t nervous after that. We sat on the sofa watching a bit of TV but mainly talking. He left as Raeni walked in at 2am, the time again had just flown by.
We arranged to meet again this weekend and he said he might even pop around in the week but will let me know.
After he left I plopped on the sofa and couldn’t stop thinking about the nice time we had. He made me feel wonderful.

