By Gareth Edmondson-Jones
As winter eventually starts to loosen its grip on North America, Bermuda eases into spring with a subtle shift in light, scents and appetite. The Atlantic turns a brighter blue, the bougainvillea begin to show off, and restaurant chalkboards across the island start to reflect the season’s quiet abundance. Spring in Bermuda is less about thawing out and more about tuning in — to the sea, to Easter traditions and to a calendar dotted with food-focused festivities.
Any conversation about Bermudian cuisine begins with the ocean. Long before visitors arrived on the pink-sand beaches, local tables were defined by what could be hauled from the water. The national dish, codfish and potatoes, is a case in point: salt cod simmered with onions and spices, served with boiled potatoes, sliced banana and a generous splash of olive oil or tomato-based sauce. It is a hearty breakfast but also a historic reminder of the island’s seafaring ties to the North Atlantic.
Spring brings a renewed affection for seafood. Easter also brings special treats to the spring table. On Good Friday, Bermudians fly homemade kites in pastel colors, and afterwards gather for fish cakes tucked into hot cross buns — a sweet-savory combination that surprises first-timers and delights regulars. The buns, fragrant with spice and dotted with currants, are a British inheritance; the fish cakes, crisped in a skillet, speak to the island’s maritime heart. Together, they form a sandwich that feels both devotional and uniquely local.
Across Hamilton and into the parishes, spring menus begin to feature loquats, one of the island’s most beloved seasonal fruits. Introduced centuries ago and now frequently included in back gardens, loquats ripen from late winter into early spring. They find their way into chutneys served alongside grilled pork, into glossy tarts displayed in café windows, and, inevitably, into small-batch loquat liqueurs. Bartenders shake them into rum cocktails that taste like sunshine with a citrus edge. Goslings even produce a Bermuda Gold Loquat Liquer. It’s only sold in Bermuda but it is available to take home duty-free from their flagship store on Front Street.
No discussion of Bermudian food would be complete without mentioning fish chowder, dark and deeply spiced with black rum and sherry pepper sauce. While it is available year-round, spring’s breezy evenings make it especially appealing — a bowl of warmth after a day spent exploring the South Shore. And for those seeking a celebratory beverage, chowder pairs well with the island’s signature tipple, the Dark ‘n’ Stormy, combining Goslings Black Seal Rum rum with ginger beer and a lime wedge.
More than a cocktail, the Dark ’n’ Stormy is a social shorthand for island life. It appears at beach bars along the South Shore, at yacht clubs during regattas, and at backyard gatherings where the grill is heavy with wahoo or spiny lobster (and it’s lobster season through the end of March). The Dark ‘n’ Stormy is both everyday refreshment and ceremonial toast.
Travelers from Westchester and Fairfield counties don’t even have to wait for their arrival in Bermuda to join in on that toast. The country’s flag carrier BermudAir flies three times a week from Westchester Regional Airport on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays and offers Dark ‘n’ Stormies onboard – and in a proper cocktail glass, no plastic allowed.
What distinguishes Bermudian spring cuisine is not dramatic seasonality — the climate is too gentle for that — but a sense of occasion around Easter rituals reinforce continuity and seasonal delights such as backyard loquat trees offer a fleeting taste of the months ahead. Spring in Bermuda offers the island’s culinary identity, ready to be savored with the first warm breezes off the Atlantic.
