In his cookbook Bermuda Traditions, award-winning chef Fred Ming describes his fellow islanders as fans of cricket, soccer, nature, art, music and, especially, of “good food”.
It’s hard to argue with that. Wherever you go in Bermuda, be it a fancy restaurant, a bar overlooking the water, or the porch of someone’s home, you come across the enticing smells of delicious island cuisine.
Perhaps the most evocative scent – and the most hard-wired taste of home for locals – is freshly fried fish.
Its most famous iteration is in the much-lauded fish sandwich, a Friday lunchtime staple, and, for many, the true national dish of Bermuda.
The fish must be crispy, with a dash of both tartar and hot sauce. And the bread? It has to be raisin toast to be truly authentic, a quirk that surprises and – usually – delights visitors.
Cheese, tomato, lettuce and coleslaw are optional.
Opinions vary on where to get the best fish sandwich, with cruise ship visitors often making a pilgrimage to two of the main contenders: Art Mel’s Spicy Dicy in Pembroke and Woody’s in Somerset.
For locals, fresh fish bought roadside – or, better yet, caught yourself – and fried at home, can ensure the most satisfying sandwich of all.
Fish is the main character in another weekend dish loved by locals, but this time it’s salted, rather than fresh.
Codfish and potatoes is the perfect Sunday soul food to set you up for the day, a uniquely Bermudian dish that harks back to the days when the island was part of a trading route that ran from Turks and Caicos in the Caribbean up to Newfoundland, Canada.
The flaky fish at the heart of this dish, also popular in the Caribbean, can be an acquired taste, but it’s offset perfectly by the additional ingredients: fresh avocado, banana, boiled potatoes, and a sauce of your choosing.
Aficionados debate whether it’s best to have a piquant tomato sauce, a white roux with or without chopped eggs, or simply melted butter with chopped eggs.
Whichever you plump for – and whether you enjoy this at home or at a neighbourhood eatery – the end result will make for a beautiful, bright breakfast plate, packed with contrasting flavours.
Freshly baked johnny bread is a perfect accompaniment to codfish and potatoes, but if fish isn’t your bag, it goes well with plenty of other foods.
It falls somewhere between a bread roll and a scone, with sweet and savoury notes, and a lovely, dense, chewy texture.
Peanut butter and bacon between two pieces of johnny bread is a winning combination, but it’s just as nice toasted, with lashings of local loquat or cherry jam.
Mair Harris, in Bermuda’s Tea Time Treats, describes johnny bread – or “journey bread” – as an “old standby from way back” and a “time-honoured Bermudian favourite”.
However, don’t serve it with fish chowder, another much-loved local dish. Bermudians far prefer to crumble saltine crackers into this dark, flavourful soup instead.
Most fish works as the main ingredient here, be it rockfish, wahoo, or any reef fish, with offcuts likely to feature. Dashes of black rum and sherry peppers are mandatory.
Fish chowder is served all year round, for lunch or dinner.
Another seafood staple, mussel pie, is highly associated with Cup Match, Bermuda’s four-day national holiday in celebration of the emancipation of slaves.
If you go to the annual cricket game between Somerset and St George’s, which is played on the Thursday and Friday of the Cup Match summer holiday, you’ll find this aromatic delicacy for sale at stalls throughout the ground.
The freshly caught mussels are curried, as is the pastry crust, giving the pie an intense flavour which is not for the fainthearted, but which is Bermudian through and through.
That can also be said for shark hash, a pungent stew that is spicy, fishy, oily, savoury, and yet, given all that, surprisingly light.
Another Cup Match favourite, this dish is said to hail from St David’s, where it once featured heavily at Dennis’s Hideaway, a much-missed dining experience in the home of its titular chef, Dennis Lamb.
To make the hash, you have to boil the cream-coloured shark liver, which means you’ll be smelling it for days to come.
As Fred Ming helpfully puts it in his cookbook Island Thyme: “This is best done in a well-ventilated room, because of the odours released.”
Fans insist it’s worth the lingering aroma (or stench, depending on your viewpoint) for the amazing taste.
Herby or curried fishcakes, made from salt cod and potato, are a Bermuda Good Friday tradition, and are served on a hot cross bun, with bananas and beans on the side.
Whether you eat them before you fly kites on Horseshoe Bay, or after the fun, be sure to add a dollop of tartare sauce.
Just as fishcakes are always associated with Easter in Bermuda, cassava pie is essential at Christmas.
In Island Thyme, Ming makes his with chicken breasts, chicken thighs, pork and two whole cups of sugar. There’s nutmeg, thyme and even rum in there, resulting in an attention-grabbing side dish.
Ming explains that the use of cassava in Bermuda dates back to when the first settlers from England grew the root. He writes: “The largest supplier of cassava today is Africa, where it remains a staple.”
All that food requires a drink to wash it down and Bermudians have several favourites, with rum swizzle arguably number one.
Island Thyme includes a recipe for budding bartenders, which Ming optimistically says “serves 36”.
It has five cups of Barbados rum and five cups of Goslings Black Seal Rum or other dark rum, plus sugar, brandy, pineapple and orange juice, lemons, limes, and Angostura bitters.
Sweet and syrupy, this is the perfect cocktail for happy hour or a summer barbecue in your back yard – just don’t expect a clear head the next day.
