The history of Notting Hill Carnival's food culture

For over two years, the lack of carnivals across the UK during the last August Bank Holiday weekend has been the punctuation to an already dire period. Now, this year’s excitement about Notting Hill Carnival returns – but some who’ve never been to the event or delved into its history can’t understand the fuss about it. The fact is, without any hyperbole, for those of Caribbean descent and its various rooted people Carnival runs in our blood and is a part of our soul.

It’s impossible to talk about the current day events without just a brief primer on the history of Caribbean carnivals. During the era of colonialism, Europeans largely lived a life of opulence on the islands. Colonists and slave owners carried over their traditions of religious fetes, which turned into local carnivals. Slaves were forbidden from taking part but would stage their small carnivals in private dwellings, harking back to their traditional African rites while parodying their owners’ festivities. After emancipation, the freed people transformed the event into a celebration steeped in a fusion of native and African lore. This was then fused with the colourful religious rites of the various Indian populations that came to the Caribbean during the time of indentured labour – and as such the festivities we know them today were born. 

Though those of Caribbean and African descent have been noted in the UK for centuries, it wasn't until the early to mid-20th century that the population expanded greatly with what we know as the Windrush Generation. This ballooning was not without its frictions, as racial tension ensued throughout Britain where foreign communities had settled. Racist housing policies and underemployment of highly skilled Caribbean immigrants seemingly exacerbated the situation, with several riots occurring across the country. Faced with winters of discontent and an unfriendly populace, the disillusioned Caribbean diaspora of post-war Britain turned to home comforts. This included music, dance and of course food. Home events called shebeens and blues parties were the go-to functions with rice and peas and curry goat documented as a popular meal.

These celebrations soon outgrew the small residential spaces, so informal street parades and events in venue halls popped up across the UK from Birmingham to Leeds to Manchester. In the late 1950s, with Caribbean people needing to relieve their tensions, West London’s Notting Hill Carnival was born. A culmination of events by political activist Claudia Jones, Trinidadian Boscoe Holder and community leader Rhaune Laslett all added to a vision of what is experienced annually today.

Each year in August, at the peak of summer, millions of people from around the world flock to West London for two days of extreme merriment come rain or shine. Endless crowds let out a collective roar as their buses and trains approach the now legendary event. Amid the towering residential blocks, revellers come in search of a variety of sounds from rhythmic steel drum calypso to slow-stepping reggae. That being said, absolutely no Caribbean gathering of more than one person is a proper function without food. Of course, Carnival is no different. After traversing dense crowds for hours, inevitably hunger sets in and the many Caribbean food stalls are staffed like army barracks at the ready. Curried goat, jerk chicken, seasoned fish, patties, glazed sweetcorn and more adorn all the menus.

The Carnival's early years were humble in stature, however, over time it became a place to showcase Caribbean culture. The older generation of my family tells me “in their day” (the late 1960s and 1970s when many of the now luxury abodes of Notting Hill were housing the Caribbean and displaced British working-class communities) that on whole streets, front doors would be open. Hospitality was a key part of the Carnival and homes would be open with anyone welcome to simply wander in have a chinwag, use the loo and of course have a munch on some food. Over time, it became a bit more commercial. As one observer noted by the early 1980s, it was “an important commercial venue for the sale of Afro-Caribbean foods as well as drinks...” Technological advancements such as food trucks, bain-maries and portable cookers meant that more people could afford the equipment needed to cater for mass amounts of people. 

One thing to note, however, is due to the popularity of Jamaican music in the UK such as Ska, Reggae and Dancehall many think that Notting Hill Carnival is a Jamaican event. But the genesis of the Carnival and the food you see at the event perfectly illustrate otherwise. While many Caribbean foods are put under the same umbrella, the distance between the likes of Jamaica and Guyana or Trinidad & Tobago is the same as that of England and Estonia. With this, the foods can be varied and every corner of the Caribbean represents itself in the various stalls that stem from the edge of central West London’s Paddington all the way up to the reaches of North West London.

Today, a lot of local favourites got their start cooking at Notting Hill Carnival. Bernard Miller of North London’s Trinidadian Roti Stop told me “I used to drive around London selling the food myself." Starting in 1991, he travelled to as many carnivals as possible selling his Trinidadian-style Roti and curry. The family behind Manchester's famed Buzzrocks told me,  “We were like the Jamaican travellers." They found they struck a chord at the likes of England’s famous Glastonbury and Womad festivals. Up in Leeds, St. Kittian Mauren Wilkes of the eponymous Maureen’s takeaway tells me she was at “every carnival! Every festival!" and Hugh Anderson of Oxford’s legendary Hi-Lo’s started one of the city’s first carnivals. This just illustrates the diverse and incredible food on offer at Notting Hill Carnival and the other carnivals across the UK. 

While many foods are on offer, the order of the day seems for sure to be Jerk Chicken. Nobody can be sure why as a whole Jerk Chicken has risen to such prominence – perhaps partly because its various elements have something that people from all over the world can understand. Consumption of chicken is global, the spices in the seasoning are used across Asia and Latin America, and a modernised BBQ process commercialised in North America can be done anywhere with a few square feet of space. All this is the essence of Carnival. While there may be some standout food stalls the best bet is going to be wherever is nearest. The idea of losing your spot amongst the crowd and sound systems to try and find food, regroup and get your spot back is basically mission impossible. A smart move is to get fed at Shepherd’s Bush’s popular Ochi or Roti Joupa takeouts, near Shepherd's Bush train station – both just far enough removed from the pulse of carnival that the wait won't be that long but also near enough that you can walk to Carnival after.

For me, previously living in South London, our usual routine was to have a decent homely brunch before which would keep us sustained through the day. Then, when the music shut off and the crowd dispersed, we would head to one of our favourite spots on the way back home. Jerk spots like Smoky Jerky in New Cross and JB’s Soul Food in Peckham were great, especially given their proximity to local stations. Likewise in the east, we would head to Peppers and Spice. All of the above now fully cater for vegans and gluten-free options so all are welcome. If you don’t want to take my advice and still want to eat at Carnival, one rule of thumb always seems unfortunately true – the longer the queue the better the food!