Jerk Chicken Hut on N. Hampton Road does not look like much from the parking lot, which is probably why half of DeSoto drives past it without stopping. That’s their loss.
The menu is short and direct: jerk chicken, oxtail, curry goat, fried plantains, rice and peas, cabbage. You order at the counter, pick up a number, and sit down at one of maybe eight tables. The room is small and almost always full around noon on a weekday, which tells you more than any review could.
The jerk chicken is the reason to show up the first time. It comes off the grill with a dry, blackened crust that gives way to meat that stayed moist somehow, with a smoke and allspice thing going on underneath the heat. The heat is real, but it’s not a stunt — it builds slowly and stays with you. If you want more fire, ask for the house pepper sauce. If you don’t want more fire, you might still put it on anyway and regret nothing.
The oxtail is better, though it takes longer. The kitchen braises it low and slow, and by the time it hits your plate the collagen has gone soft and sticky and the gravy has absorbed everything that was simmering in the pot. Order it with rice and peas, not plain rice. The kidney beans soaked into the coconut milk make the difference. This is not a fast-food operation, and the oxtail is proof.
Fried plantains come with most plates if you ask, and you should ask. They are sweet and a little crispy on the edges, and they work as a break from the spice rather than a side dish you ignore.
Prices are reasonable — jerk chicken plates run around ten to twelve dollars, oxtail is a few dollars more. Nothing about the menu will shock your wallet. The portions are generous enough that most people don’t finish everything, which means the leftovers situation is favorable.
Go early or late. The lunch rush between noon and one-thirty tends to back up the counter and slow the kitchen down, which is not the end of the world but adds fifteen minutes you might not have. The dinner crowd thins out faster. Thursday through Saturday they sometimes run weekend specials — curry shrimp, brown stew chicken — worth asking about when you walk in.
There are better-known Caribbean spots around the Metroplex. Some of them have nicer rooms and longer hours and a full bar and a logo on a tote bag. Jerk Chicken Hut has none of that. What it has is a cook who knows what allspice and scotch bonnet are supposed to do together, and a menu that doesn’t try to be anything other than what it is. That’s a decent trade.
