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From: rollie Category: Consumer Date: 19 October 2007 Time: 04:30 PM Review: The smoke billows through the cold air carrying the smell of jerk chicken as you get off the bus in the dark of winter arriving.. I think the barbecue is attached to the entrepeneurial pub, which has previously set up a bouncy castle perilously close to the road. I saw a sign a few weeks ago appealing for witnesses to a shot being fired from a car at people outside the bakers arms. A landmark then. The chicken is brought out of black bin bag, burnt, smoked, cooked on a drum bbq, and then sliced on a picnic table and wrapped in foil. All this takes place on the pavement, as though the street is a common space, where anything might happen. And I stop and watch the cooking, and think whether to get in the queue, which may in fact just be other spectators. And I decide I can't wait but walk off cheered.