When I was a teenager, my daddy moved to White Plains, New York, but I lived in Michigan with my grandmother. It was hard to be away from him, but we would write each other letters often, and he’d call me on the weekends, when long distance rates were cheapest. When I visited him in New York, we had a new ritual: he’d pick me up from the airport and take me for a patty. Instead of our native restaurant Tastee in Kingston, Jamaica, it was most often at Golden Krust. My dad was a patron of Golden Krust from the time I was about 16 until his death more than 20 years later. In fact, he made his last Golden Krust purchase fewer than 30 minutes before he died.
He was a Golden Krust customer for a long time; as a result, several of its employees remember him. Even though they didn’t know him by name, they knew him as a kind man who loved to tell jokes and laugh. Golden Krust isn’t just an eatery specializing in Jamaican dishes and pastries. It represents my dad’s love of Jamaican culture and special times we shared together. It saddens me that I don’t have the pleasure of going to Golden Krust now.
Location: Golden Krust
White Plains, NY