As a Bermudian who lived in Kenya for 13 years and still considers Kenya my home, I was excited to take on this writing opportunity.
I miss Kenya every day: the food, the friendships, and the experiences that shaped my life there. I watched my children grow up in Kenya, and my youngest son, Rainn, lovingly named in the tradition found among some Kenyan communities who name children after seasons or significant events, was born during the El Niño rains of 2015. Many of the foods that Chef James Wambui mentions are those that still make my mouth water.
Learning about Chef Wambui’s story felt like reconnecting two of the worlds that have shaped me most: Bermuda and Kenya. His journey, like mine, is one of memory, belonging and finding home through food.
Chef James Wambui, executive chef and acting director of restaurants at Cambridge Beaches Resort & Spa, has helped the resort earn acclaim, including the Best of Bermuda Award. His dishes are known for their flavour and their ability to tell stories of heritage and connection.
“I grew up in Kenya surrounded by the scent of simmering stews and the joy of meals shared with family,” he said.
“My grandmother’s kitchen was my first classroom. I learned that food is more than sustenance; it is memory, culture, and connection.”
Though cooking was traditionally not a man’s role in his culture, curiosity led him there.
“I was fascinated by the science behind it all,” he recalled. “I first pursued accounting and economics because when you had good grades, you were encouraged to take a traditional career route. Yet when I found my way back to food, I realised a professional kitchen beats with that same rhythm, only with the added joy of flavour and creativity.”
For Chef Wambui, Kenya was a teacher. The markets were alive with colour and rhythm: mangoes, cassava, sukuma wiki and fresh fish from Lake Victoria.
“In my Kikuyu community, dishes like irio, mashed peas, corn and potatoes, symbolised togetherness. Nyama choma, goat roasted over charcoal, meant celebration. And mukimo, with its earthy greens, reminded us to honour the harvest. Every dish carried a lesson about gratitude and community.”
Precious memories
Chef Wambui’s reflections on Christmas immediately transported me back to my own memories of Kenya.
I remember Christmas mornings alive with music, the sounds of food preparations my children running through the yard and asking when they could open their presents as the day began. Food was always at the centre of it all: chapati on the stove, the smell of chai, and pots of rice and stew bubbling in anticipation of friends arriving.
I often shared Bermuda’s traditional cassava pie, and it always struck a familiar chord. Cassava is also part of Kenyan life, usually boiled or fried, so when they learned that Bermudians use it to make a sweet, baked pie, there was instant recognition and joy.
Some would laugh and say, “Now we know Bermuda is really African,” while others said they would include cassava pie in their Christmas menu. In those moments, I could feel the memory of our shared history, a history carried through food, passed down culture, and the unbroken link between The Continent of Africa and Bermudians of African descent.
As Chef Wambui said: “Cassava is woven into both culinary stories. And like Bermuda with rum, Kenyan homes were filled with local brews that brought joy and laughter. The flavours differ, but the spirit, abundance and family feel the same.”
Though far from home, he keeps Kenyan traditions alive.
“Chapati and nyama choma are traditions I will always keep,” he said. “Unlike home, where the joy is in slaughtering the animals yourself alongside your kin, here in Bermuda we get farmers to sell us goat, which we roast with friends who have become family.
“Recently, we have even begun making muratina, a local Kenyan mead, to crown the moment. And just like back home, we invite friends and colleagues to the feast so they can soak in the same seasoning of family and warmth that shaped my earliest memories.”
His Kenyan heritage also influences his culinary creativity at Cambridge Beaches. “My Kenyan roots push me to layer flavours boldly and also respectfully,” he explained. “When I build holiday menus, whether for Bermudians, Americans, or European travellers, I look for what connects us, the comfort of warmth, the use of spice, and the sense of gathering that good food creates.”
For Chef Wambui, Christmas remains a bridge between worlds. “It is my family in Kenya, my guests in Bermuda, my wife and son beside me, and the chance to craft memories through food,” he said. “It is proof that the language of hospitality is universal. No matter where you are, a warm plate can make you feel at home.”
And perhaps that is what Christmas truly is, a reminder that even when we are far from the places that we once called home, we can still find belonging around, one, shared table.
