A Caribbean Cook-up

From Jerk Chicken And Flying Fish To Conch And Callaloo, The Caribbean’s Cuisine Is As Distinct As The Islands Themselves. This Is A Region Of One-pot Wonders And Tangy Marinades, Where The Beach Barbecues Are Boisterous And Street-side Shacks Dish Up Food To Remember. So Grab Your Cou-cou Stick And Get Stirring.

- Audrey Gillan & Nicola Trup

THE SEA FOOD CONCH BAHAMAS

Pinder chooses his weapons and goes to work — first with a hammer and then a sharp, slender knife — tapping and jabbing at the shell until something slippery drops out. The glistening white lump, about the size and shape of an ox tongue, is far from appealing, but I have faith; thousands of Bahamians can’t be wrong.

Although I’ve always been aware of the conch, I’ve only ever considered it as a shell, one that moonlights as a sort of trumpet, and never thought about what’s inside. But this mollusc — pronounced locally as ‘conk’ — is a culinary staple in the Bahamas, used in the likes of soups, salads and fritters, in both homes and restaurants. So, less than an hour after arriving in the 35C-plus heat of Nassau, I’ve made my way to McKenzie’s, a laid-back cafe with a pink-and-white candy-striped facade and a terrace overlooking the busy harbour. It’s one of several similar joints flanking the entrance to the bridge that connects the capital’s downtown area with the hotel enclave of Paradise Island.

After extracting the white lump from its shell, chef Pinder peels it, trims off the parts that tend to be used as fishing bait rather than eaten, and ostentatiously slurps up a thin ribbon he’s removed. The spinal cord, he tells me with a laugh, is an aphrodisiac: “It gives you an extra 25 minutes.”

Once several conches have been skinned, scrubbed with salt and rinsed, Pinder finely chops them and adds them to diced peppers, onions and tomato. Next, he squeezes the juice of several lemons, limes and oranges over the top. And that’s it: conch salad — a Bahamian classic.