Vacation Report - Day 2 Photos Part 4

We'd heard from multiple people that we should try to have dinner at Northside, and we'd heard we should call Rose ahead of time. Here at home that means a place is packed and you should make reservations, right? Not so much on Eleuthera. More than one place was listed as "call ahead" and we discovered it means "to make sure someone is there and it's actually open." And when they refer to a restaurant by the owner's first name it's often because they're IT. If they're not around, it's just not open.

It was 6:00 on a Friday night and Northside was one of the most-recommended places we'd heard of, so we figured we'd be fine and set off.

Directions to Northside Inn:
- Head south to Rock Sound
- Drive through Rock Sound, squinting into the dark hoping to find Fish Street
- Ask the kids walking down the road where Fish Street is
- Notice the street sign for Fish Street several yards down Fish Street (you have to know where it is, then after you find it the sign's all "hey, you found it!")
- Drive east on Fish street until you're convinced you're going to fall into the ocean. Turn left.
- Follow the road until it ends at a rocky, sandy hill with a treacherous looking narrow dirt lane your rented beater can't possibly navigate. Say a prayer and go for it.
- Try not to drive off the cliff into the ocean or hit the dog who runs out to greet you.
- Sit in the pitch dark for a minute (while the dog barks madly outside your car), debating if you're at the right place.
- Ask the guy who pops out of the house if the restaurant is open. Wait while he goes to ask his mom if she feels like opening the restaurant.

Believe it or not, the meal with Rose at Northside was worth every effort. Enjoying her company and cooking again will feature prominently in decisions I make about future vacations.

The restaurant is a big covered deck off the back of her house. That night it was quite cold, with the wind howling fiercely off the Atlantic. It was like having a chorus of angry ghosts serenading our dinner.

Rose's dog Teddy, our charming dining companion.

Rose's cat Joey, the evening's entertainment.

One of the few pictures of me from the trip - I had the camera most of the time.


Rose cooks from her heart. There's no menu and dinner is what is fresh and on hand. This was sincerely one of the most memorable meals of my life, made even better by a lovely conversation with the charming Rose. (whose picture, like a complete moron, I failed to take)

This simple but spectacular dinner consisted of Bahamian rice, cole slaw (made on the spot, and the most crisp delicious version I've ever tasted), sliced tomato (locally grown, in season and stolen from WH's salad), fried grouper, fried conch and fried plantains.


Rose offered to take our picture, and I'm glad I accepted because I realized later it is literally the only picture of us together on Eleuthera. It really is so remote and isolated there are rarely other tourists to take your photo.

We learned were only the 2nd customers Rose had that week (our economy is doing serious damage to theirs). When we left she told us she was glad she opened for us, and that we had been the answer to her prayers. She'd agreed to donate 5 new folding chairs to her church but couldn't afford to pay for them. Our coming to dinner solved her problem.

I'm not a person of faith, but I have to admit it feels good to know something as simple as the decision to forge on through the dark in search of dinner accomplished something more than simply filling our bellies.