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Slow Cooker Jamaican Jerk Chicken Chili — The Pot That’s Closing the Gap

Super Bowl. Jerome's grandmother's house. Miss Doris's wings. This is becoming an annual pilgrimage, and I approach it with the reverence it deserves. This year, Miss Doris added a new wing flavor to the rotation: mango habanero — a sweet heat that hit the back of your throat like a polite punch. I ate twenty-two wings. Down from last year's twenty-seven, which I consider either growth or insufficient appetite. Jerome ate thirty and showed no remorse. Brianna watched the halftime show on her phone at home (she still does not care about football). She sent me a text during the game: "Having fun?" I sent back: "Miss Doris's wings." She sent back a heart emoji. A heart emoji from Brianna in February, after the conversation we had two weeks ago, feels like a ceasefire. It feels like maybe she sees that I am trying. Maybe she sees the dinners and the questions and the effort, even when the effort is clumsy. A heart emoji is not a solution. But it is a signal. I receive the signal. At the party, I talked to Miss Doris about cooking. She was in the kitchen, frying wings in batches, and I stood next to her and asked her how she learned. She said, "My mama. And her mama before her. And hers before that. We been cooking since before we had a country to cook in." She said, "You're learning late, baby. But late is better than never." She handed me a wing — fresh from the oil, still sizzling — and said, "Taste that. That's a hundred years of Black women making something from nothing." I tasted it. She was right. Aiden is playing basketball every day. He has graduated from the Fisher-Price hoop to attempting shots at the community center during open gym, where the real hoops are ten feet high and his shots reach approximately four feet. He does not care. He shoots with the confidence of a man who does not know he is failing. I need to learn that from him. Fail with confidence. Shoot without looking at the rim. Dinner: I made a pot of chili (my recipe, the one people asked for at the plant) and cornbread from scratch (Mama's recipe this time — cornmeal, buttermilk, butter, no sugar). The chili was good. The cornbread was better than the box. Not Mama's level, but closer. The gap is narrowing. Slowly. Imperceptibly. But narrowing.

Miss Doris said late is better than never, and I’ve been holding onto that. The chili I made that night — the one people at the plant have been asking about for years — felt like mine in a way that’s hard to explain. So I kept building on it. Jerk seasoning came in because of Jerome’s grandmother’s kitchen, because of what she said about a hundred years of making something from nothing, because flavor has memory. This slow cooker version carries all of that — the warmth of that Super Bowl Sunday, the signal Brianna sent, the gap that’s narrowing — one bowl at a time.

Slow Cooker Jamaican Jerk Chicken Chili with Plantain Chips

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 6–8 hrs (low) or 3–4 hrs (high) | Total Time: Up to 8 hrs 20 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs
  • 2 tablespoons jamaican jerk seasoning (store-bought or homemade)
  • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
  • 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper (adjust to heat preference)
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 1 red bell pepper, diced
  • 1 green bell pepper, diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 can (15 oz) kidney beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) fire-roasted diced tomatoes
  • 1 cup chicken broth
  • 2 tablespoons tomato paste
  • 1 tablespoon brown sugar
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
  • Salt and black pepper, to taste
  • 2 ripe plantains, peeled and sliced 1/4 inch thick (for chips)
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil (for frying plantains)
  • Optional toppings: sour cream, shredded pepper jack cheese, sliced scallions, fresh cilantro

Instructions

  1. Season the chicken. Pat the chicken thighs dry and rub them all over with the jerk seasoning, smoked paprika, allspice, and cayenne. Season with salt and black pepper.
  2. Sear for depth (optional but worth it). Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the chicken thighs 2–3 minutes per side until lightly browned. You’re building flavor, not cooking through. Transfer to the slow cooker.
  3. Build the base. Add the diced onion, both bell peppers, garlic, black beans, kidney beans, fire-roasted tomatoes, chicken broth, tomato paste, and brown sugar to the slow cooker. Stir to combine around the chicken.
  4. Low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 6–8 hours or on HIGH for 3–4 hours, until the chicken is tender and shreds easily with a fork.
  5. Shred the chicken. Remove the chicken thighs and shred with two forks. Return the shredded chicken to the pot, stir in the lime juice, and taste for seasoning. Adjust salt, cayenne, or jerk as needed.
  6. Make the plantain chips. About 20 minutes before serving, heat vegetable oil in a skillet over medium heat. Fry plantain slices in batches, 2–3 minutes per side, until golden and caramelized. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate and season with a pinch of salt.
  7. Serve. Ladle the chili into bowls and top with sour cream, shredded cheese, scallions, or cilantro. Serve the plantain chips on the side for scooping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 680mg

DeShawn Carter
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 98 of DeShawn’s 30-year story · Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.

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