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Mississippi Jerk

On the waterfront patio of the Harbor Restaurant and Bar, while all manner of yachts floated by, diners in swimsuits chatted happily and passed around a live parrot. Reggae music wafted from the restaurant’s outdoor tiki bar, and when the dreadlocked barkeep took an order (“two caipirinhas, please”), he answered with a Jamaican accent: “Nine dollars.” A little boy sprinted along the docks of a nearby marina and a family of ducks waddled by, their placid presence disrupted only when a waitress dropped two plates of jerk chicken.

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