Bahamian treasure, are you asking? What’s the secret? One of the treasures of the Bahamas is the conch fritter, and if you have ever been to the Bahamian Islands and not eaten one of these yummy morsels, then you need to rebook a ticket and go back to the Islands right away! The secret you ask? Well, you must read on and I will share it with you.

Now, I am a thrower-outer and to a fault at times. In fact, this trait of mine has probably made it into the top ten of 100 Things My Wife Does That Makes Me Mad list, which my husband is presently compiling. Well, my beloved conch fritter recipe that I have had since 1983 (toting from kitchen to kitchen, without even a close remake of this good food) almost made it to the trash can. In spite of the loud inner protests to throw out this recipe, I made a conscious decision to keep it for a little while longer, a decision that is totally out of character for me.

Two things happened as a result of my keeping this tattered and faded recipe that only lists the ingredients and forgoes the instructions. The first is that a few days later from my purge-fest, I came across a great site, Matt Bites.com. Matt did a fun post on his trip to Eleuthera. He is a wonderful photographer so don’t walk, but run to his site and check it out at http://www.mattbites.typepad.com. Well it seems Matt, being a true traveler and food lover, wasted no time finding the conch fritters and capturing the image on film. Finding this wonderful site and the irresistible image of the conch fritters triggered the following epiphanies: I am supposed to write about food while remembering and recording the stories of my family and I am to cook again. These epiphanies are much more thought provoking than my husband’s version of the lesson, which would be do not throw out anything; keep everything.

Here is the story that had long been forgotten, the story that made me realize that I have 100’s of stories about food and family, stories that reveal to me who I am. It is the food that captures the essence of who we are as a family, how we lived and what we did. So much of our lives revolve around food, and not just the eating- no, it is much more than that, as I am just beginning to discover. I had the pleasure of living on the island of Eleuthera in 1983, with my family, spending the month of December basking in the sun.

The house we rented was owned by Sir Roland Symonette who served as the head of the Bahamian Government for nine years. Sir Roland also had the distinct pleasure of being knighted by Queen Elizabeth II. It was a simple yet glorious home on a hill overlooking the Caribbean Ocean, with a short walk to our own private beach. The center of the house had a 40 foot Great Room with a cathedral ceiling made of huge beams. Picture windows spanned the room, capturing a breathtaking view and housed lots of comfy chairs and sofas to nest in- for a good read or afternoon nap. The house also had a record player with oldies, oldies for the 80’s time period. We wore a hole in the Edie Duchin album, which set the mood for the afternoon cocktails and early evening snacks.

Nancy was our housekeeper and one of her chores was to cook dinner for us in the evening. I let Nancy prepare meals the first day or two as I settled in from the trauma of traveling with children. The trauma was highlighted by a horrendous airline strike midway through our jaunt; leaving us stuck in where else but Miami. After a day or two of rest on the beach I wanted more from this oasis. I wanted to cook; watching her prepare the strange native food, I couldn’t hold back any longer. Nancy was pregnant and due in a month or so. It was obvious that keeping the house, cooking for us, doing our laundry (which was all done on a wash board, then hung for the Caribbean breeze to dry) was a lot for her.

I hatched a plan, one she couldn’t say no to- and walked into the kitchen as I worked up the courage to propose my deal to her. “Yes” slipped out of her mouth with her Bahamian accent, highlighted by her wide grin; I agreed to wash our own laundry and she agreed to teach me how to cook Bahamian food. I was in heaven. I also, and I know this sounds sort of strange, was thrilled to give my hand to washing clothes on a wash board, which was done on the stone terrace out back. Keep in mind I am on a hill. I had a view of the ocean, a warm Caribbean breeze, sunshine surrounded by palm trees and fragrant hibiscus flowers to keep me company, should I find myself bored. I don’t sound so weird after all, now do I?

Nancy and I went to the market everyday to gather our fresh produce and any other items needed for the daily meals. Our shopping would not be complete without our stop on the way home to visit the fishmonger, to purchase our Bahamian treasure; fresh conch for a $1.00 a piece. When these recipes, and others, were written in 1983, they were done so with the assumption that 23 years later my memory would still be in tact; as I only wrote the ingredients down. Well, my memory is not in tact, and it has taken a considerable effort to conch-anything! This culinary tip was given to me by Nancy, who has kept the house for the Symonette Family for years. Let me tell you Nancy has cooked for- well, let’s just say the British Hob-Nob crowd. She was a native, knew her stuff and I was lucky that she was willing to teach me.

First, you have to beat the conch. Not just a simple pounding between wax paper (the way you would handle chicken when making a Paillard dish.) But, the kind of beating that is usually reserved for a $150/hour private session in a sound-proof room; with a tennis racquet and pillow, while under the care and supervision of a licensed mental health professional. Making conch fritters is not a time to be shy or hold back, as this exercise tenderizes the conch before you chop or finely dice it. When made this way, the fritters melt in your mouth and come with just a hint of chewyness (which I don’t think is a word,) but you get the point.

Every afternoon, my three little daughters with sun burnt noses somehow, in the same order, would march into the kitchen around 4pm every day as if on cue with their hands wide open, for a paper towel of warm conch fritters. After gathering their treasures, they would march out the other door to return to their Bowling for Coconuts game; a game they invented while on this Bahamian holiday.

As memories of the daily smell of freshly baked filling the house return, I am reminded of the Lobster Symonette for breakfast and the rice & pigeon peas with grouper for dinner. We ate well. And as life would have it, with a few twists and turns along the way, a jogged memory, an out-of-character moment, and someone else’s blog post- I not only remember eating well, I now remember one of the stories of why we ate well, and what it meant to us at the time. This is the real Bahamian treasure. Once more while I am waiting for God, a glimpse of my soul has been revealed.

Should you be lucky enough to find yourself on the Islands, or lucky enough to find a fishmonger, give these a go. I have not been so lucky, which is why you see no picture of my conch fritters.

Bahamian Conch Fritters

3 Conchs, ½ large onion, 1 tomato, ½ green pepper, 2 teaspoons baking powder, ½ cup cream, ½ cup water, 3 tablespoons chopped celery, 1 tablespoon butter, 1 large egg beaten well, 1 cup flour, ½ teaspoon sea salt, thyme and hot pepper sauce to taste.

Beat conch as above, then chop medium-fine. Medium-fine chop vegetables set aside. In a bowl, mix flour, egg, melted butter, water and cream. Season with salt, thyme and hot pepper sauce (you want a little kick). Mix in the remaining ingredients. Drop batter by full, rounded tablespoons into the hot oil. Fry until golden brown, turning if needed. Drain on paper towels. Heat the oil in a large pot at 365 degrees.

They are great alone, or you can dip them in sauce. We made one using about 3 tablespoons of mayonnaise, how much ketchup, how much lime juice, 1-2 tablespoons of hot sauce, parsley, and a little salt & pepper to taste. Go easy on the hot sauce; adding as you go to get the taste you like.