by Chelle Koster Walton

Step one: Throw away the measuring cups, teaspoons, thermometers, and shot glasses. Cooking in Bahamian kitchens is by feel, look, and taste. That’s how Karen Johnson operated when she invited a few of us guests at Fernandez Bay Village on Cat Island into her kitchen one evening to learn to make conch fritters.

First she chopped the conch, then had one of the guests toss it in a large bowl with a good amount of flour, some baking powder, salt, water, and chopped onions and peppers. Next came her secret ingredient: ketchup. She tasted the dough, tossed in a little more salt, and it was ready for the frying pan.

Karen’s protégé then learned how to drop globs of the dough into just hot enough oil for just long enough to turn them a golden brown outside, cooked through on the inside. Then they were ready for dipping into the sauce of mayonnaise, ketchup, and Tabasco sauce that the cooking team had prepared. And boy, were they good! The best conch fritters I’ve ever tasted. Would I be able to make them myself at home? Maybe…with the years of practice from which Karen benefited. I’d guess after a dozen batches, I might get the “feel” for it, but I know for sure it’s not as easy as she made it look.

Fernandez Bay Village loves to get its guests involved in local ways. Like at most resorts on this under-discovered island of only 1,800 residents, it’s somewhat isolated from life in the small settlements. So it encourages interaction with the natives, including arrangement of cooking demonstrations and classes such as this.

One afternoon during my stay, a team of conch fishermen, shuckers, and cooks gave a conch-salad demonstration on the beach. Before our eyes, the guys shucked the conchs with a machete, cleaned them, and handed them over to the women to chop up with fresh local tomatoes, onions, green peppers, and hot finger peppers for the ceviche-like conch salad, a true island delicacy. To “cook” the conch, they squeezed in lime juice, then orange juice, “to cut the sharpness of the lime.” This of-the-moment dish is ready in no time and is best eaten on the spot, on the beach, with a local Kalik beer in hand.

Which brings me to the bar at Fernandez Bay Village. It’s run, like the resort boutique, on the honor system. Guests walk behind the bar, make their own drinks, and record them on a slip of paper with the name of the cottage or villa they’re staying. Happy hour with munchies begins at 6:30 every evening (7:30 in summer). Guests get creative making their pre-dinner cocktails from the full array of liquors and liqueurs. That’s how the Cat-a-Tonic got invented.

Guest Bill Hillermeier started pouring mango rum, pineapple rum, coconut rum, cola, and a shot of Sprite. Soon, a number of us were drinking the sweet, if unusual, concoction, and of course we had to think of a name. It started out as a tonic for the day’s pressures (I did, after all, climb 206 feet—the highest elevation in the Bahamas—to the top of Mt. Alvernia to visit the Hermitage, a mid-twentieth-century hideout of a recluse Catholic priest). What to name a Cat Island tonic? Cat-a-tonic, what else? After a couple, the Cat Island drink lived up to its name in a more literal sense. Saved by dinner at Fernandez Bay!

We feasted on lobster tail the size of my foot. Nearly all the food prepared in this kitchen comes from local fishermen and farmers, says Resort Manager Donna Keasler. The menu varies nightly according to what’s fresh, offering guests a choice of two entrées. The restaurant serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Its conch chowder is also among the best I’ve tasted anywhere, accompanied by local bread, sweet and freshly made daily.

For variety and a chance to sample Bahamian traditional dishes, two nearby restaurants in the town of New Bight are popular. Fernandez Bay’s staff, which become like family after only one day and one bonfire, can arrange transportation. If someone’s available, they’re happy to drop you off personally.

For breakfast, Bridge Inn serves a home-style weekend dish, such as the incredible stew fish and grits I relished one Friday morning. Other dishes might include boil fish or chicken souse—hardy soup-like concoctions known variously as hangover cure and “Bahamian penicillin.”

Call ahead to the Blue Bird if you’re planning to stop for dinner. It, too, will offer two entrée choices for the evening, and you must order ahead. The night I dined, the crack’ conch—tenderized, breaded, and fried—tasted as fresh as that day. Pigeon peas ‘n’ rice, potato salad, and other traditional Bahamian sides accompanied it.

Should you decide to rent a car to make the trip from the island’s south end to the north, the two requisite stops for drink, food, music, and character are Hazel’s and Sammy T’s. Hazel Brown boasts the coldest Kalik and best domino-playing skills on the island, while Sammy T’s grilled conch and beach view are legendary.

On an island where house keys are virtually nonexistent, a single road takes you from one end to the other, forty-eight miles away, and one doctor takes care of the island’s health. Life is simple, and so is the cuisine: simple, sweet, and best enjoyed by feel and taste.

Travel & Cuisine Editor Chelle Koster Walton is currently working on a new book for Countryman Press titled Nassau, Grand Bahama Island & the Bahama Islands: A Complete Guide.