Smoked Jerk in the UK: A Pitmaster’s First Taste of Meatopia

Only time, fire, and smoke will tell how they’ll respond to these jerk beef ribs.

Not every trip starts with fire. Some start at midnight, somewhere over the Atlantic, with your internal clock already off and your body trying to find rest where there is none. My flight to London took off at 11:59 PM. And while I managed to catch a little sleep, I knew the real rest wouldn’t come until after the last rib was served.

This trip meant something different. It wasn’t just another cook. I’d been invited to Meatopia, the largest open-fire cooking event in London. A celebration of smoke, flame, and community. It’s the kind of event I’ve always wanted to be part of, and it’s hosted some of the very best: Tuffy Stone, Bryan Furman, Pat Martin, just to name a few. To be added to that lineup? That’s not lost on me.

It wasn’t my first time in London, but it had been a while. And coming in a day early gave me the chance to settle in and do what every seasoned pitmaster knows: prep early, so you can breathe later.

We landed ahead of schedule and jumped on the Elizabeth Line, which gave me a view of the city I hadn’t experienced before, glimpses of its grit, its elegance, and its rhythm, all from a moving train. It didn’t take long to realize I was constantly walking on the wrong side of the walkway. In London, it’s not just the cars that go left, the people do, too. Small detail, big reminder: when you step into a new place, stay light on your feet and open to adjustment.

At Liverpool Station, I met Malek, my main point of contact for the event. She brought me to Mama’s Shelter, my hotel for the week. Quirky, offbeat, but cozy. I didn’t linger long. When you’ve done enough multi-day events, you learn that comfort can wait. Prep can’t.

The event was held at Tobacco Dock, a Level 2 historical landmark with old-world charm that feels like it was built to house stories. And soon, one of them would be mine.

For Meatopia, I was serving smoked jerk beef ribs, Saturday and Sunday. That meant today, Wednesday, was for trimming and marinating. I’ve trimmed a lot of beef ribs in my life. I’ve done events where we prepped over 1,000 pounds in a single day. But this was my first time working with UK-sourced beef, and right away I could feel the difference. Leaner cuts. Slightly different texture. It reminded me that no matter how much experience you bring, the meat always teaches you something new.

Trimming beef ribs isn’t just about removing fat or silverskin, it’s about setting intention. Every slice is part of the story you’re telling through your food. And with jerk seasoning, there’s even more care to be taken. I don’t do a lot of large-scale jerk dishes. But when I do, I want the flavor to hit hard and linger long. The spice. The smoke. The depth. It all has to come through.

After several hours of prep, every rib was cleaned, trimmed, and resting in a deep marinade of my homemade jerk blend. That moment, seeing trays of seasoned meat, knowing what they’ll become in the hands of time and fire, it’s one of my favorites. It’s a promise to the crowd, to the event, and to the craft.

I headed back for the night, knowing that Thursday would be full of reconnection, introductions, and soaking up what the other chefs had brought to this massive stage. But today? Today was about laying the foundation.

Only time, fire, and smoke will tell how they’ll respond to these jerk beef ribs. But I’ve done my part. I’ve honored the ingredients. I’ve put in the work. And I’ve stepped into this moment ready, not just to cook, but to represent the tradition I love, in a city that’s finally invited me to light the fire.