Issue link: http://digital.canadawide.com/i/407098
28 W e s t W o r l d | w i n t e r 2 0 1 4 jen judge passage, which allowed the spirit to age and explains its long associations with sailing. He also demonstrates a few favourite cocktails, ending each anecdote with a round of drinks. e concoctions are mostly creamy and syrupy – just how many locals like them, according to Browne – and though i prefer my liquor neat, i drink up to be polite. i'm woozy from the samples when Browne asks how i enjoyed the event, and without thinking i tell him i'm no fan of sweet drinks. He smiles and says to stop by mount gay sometime so he can make something more to my liking. "look me up" is one of those empty things you say back home, never expecting to see a person again, but Browne underlines how laid-back and intimate Barbados really is by handing me his number. when i ring him up a few days later, he sets up a tour of the distillery for me. He then suggests i join him for another tasting at st. nicholas abbey, a 17th-century sugar plantation in the north of Barbados that has been transformed into a rum distillery. He regales me with more island stories and snifters of mount gay 1703 old Cask selection – served neat, and as smooth as fine cognac. with my head rum-clouded, i make my way to Queen's Park, a grassy fairground in the centre of Bridgetown that's host to a festival event of local street food. the street names and places i encounter – tweedside road, st. michael's row – and the flour-white colonial facades are a jarring disconnect from the steamy heat, wild tropical flowers and blazing sunshine. at the field, vendors in tents pre- pare steaming trays of food while onlookers sit in the shade of tamarind trees and listen to a band blast out lilting reggae. it might sound cliché, but Barbadians (Bajans in local parlance) move slower than a sailboat on a windless day. i stop at a booth to ask about a dish, and the elderly woman in a hairnet behind the counter barely moves her mouth to croak out "macaroni pie." it's a local version of macaroni and cheese made with Cheddar and a special sauce of mustard, ketchup and local hot peppers. i point to another. "Puddin' 'n' souse," she rasps, which i find out later is pig offal, feet, snout and other extras splashed in a vinegar and fresh parsley sauce and served with a whack of mashed sweet potatoes. it tastes much bet- ter than it sounds. i also order a pile of salty, tangy, fried and breaded balls called fish cakes, which go down easy with an icy local Banks lager. it's simple, hearty fare that cuts the alcohol in my system and tastes about right for this stifling afternoon. i have a whole sightsee- ing agenda planned, but with the sun on my face and the beer and heavy food in my belly, i decide instead to spend the afternoon like a local: sitting still, watching the tide of people and relaxing to the tunes. local fare is on the menu again that night at the manicured lion Castle Polo estate in st. omas Parish, where the festival hosts a gala banquet showcasing food from 12 chefs, half locals and half visitors. in the mon- umental event tent, men in linen pants and blazers accompany women in short sequined dresses and tall heels between restaurant dis- plays serving tapas-size portions. it's as posh as the afternoon event was unpretentious, and the food is just as different. e fish cakes at one booth are tempura-light. ere's a ren- dition of macaroni pie that's plated as beauti- fully as modern sculpture and tastes as creamy and delicate as béchamel. and one chef 's lem- ongrass- and ginger-infused pork loin is accompanied by truffle-scented white yams instead of sweet potatoes. is is Bajan fare as seen through an international lens, and it (left and above) St. Nicholas Abbey, a Jacobean great house on a historic Barbados sugar plantation, also serves as a rum distillery; (below) fried crab backs and (bottom) a cook at Mr. Delicious Snack Bar, next to Miami Beach, Barbados.