Food in Fiji: A culinary journey of islands and spices

After heartwarming village welcomes and soul-soothing spa rituals, there was one more essential layer to peel back on this journey through Fiji—the food. Because if Fiji greets you like family, it feeds you like one, too.

Here, food isn’t just sustenance—it’s a celebration. It’s woven into ceremonies, shared under thatched roofs, sizzled on beachside grills, or plated with precision in fine-dining restaurants overlooking the sea.

And oh, the flavours. Indian spices meet Fijian freshness in a symphony that surprises and satisfies. Think velvety coconut-based curries, seafood so fresh it tastes like the ocean itself, meat slow-cooked underground, and delicate desserts that melt into memory. Whether you are a devout foodie or someone who simply eats to refuel, Fiji’s food scene has a way of winning you over, gently, generously, and deliciously.

In this leg of the adventure, I followed my appetite from bustling marinas to remote villages, from buffet breakfasts with rainbow views to multi-course dinners with the sound of waves for company. And with every meal came a new revelation, not just about Fiji’s diverse culinary influences, but about the people who pour their hearts into every dish.

Indigo and InterContinental evenings

After a long journey from India, my first stop in Fiji wasn’t a sandy beach; it was a plate of chicken tikka at Indigo, tucked into the breezy edge of Port Denarau Marina. Sometimes, the quickest route to feeling grounded in a new country is a familiar flavour, and Indigo understands this deeply. Since 2007, the restaurant has been drawing from India and Southeast Asia, seasoning every dish with island ease and Fijian warmth.

I sank into my seat by the water, where bobbing yachts made soft music against the marina’s edge and the air smelled of salt and spice. The boneless chicken tikka, blushed crimson with Kashmiri chilli and lemon, arrived first, smoky and tender from the tandoor. Then came the masala crab, mud crab tucked into a cashew-coconut gravy scented with curry leaves and mustard seeds. It was rich, messy, and deeply comforting.

A slow-cooked kadhai lamb, on the bone and simmered in a tomato and kadai masala base, stole the show for me. The meat fell apart with the nudge of a fork, carrying bold hits of ginger, green chilli, and lime. I also tasted the duck curry, fragrant with Fiji Indian spices, and all of it paired beautifully with pillowy naan, Amritsari kulcha, and cheese-stuffed roti. I sipped on a crisp white wine as gravies disappeared from my plate, and despite the feast, couldn’t resist rounding off the meal with a creamy kulfi.

Later that evening, I made my way down to the Coral Coast and slipped into something equally relaxing but unmistakably tropical: dinner at Toba Bar & Grill, tucked inside the InterContinental Fiji Golf Resort & Spa. 

Under a canopy of palms wrapped in string lights, guests sat in colourful clothing, sipping cocktails and watching the night sky behind Natadola Bay. The vibe was laid-back but polished. I started with a kokoda of Mahi-mahi, a Fijian ceviche of fish marinated in lime and coconut milk, flecked with capsicum and coriander. It was bright, zingy and became a recurring obsession throughout my trip.

From there, dinner turned eclectic. Lamb tacos with avocado salsa and sweet potato crisps brought a playful crunch. Sesame-seared tuna came nestled on soba noodles with wasabi aioli, while a creamy spaghetti carbonara delivered a dose of comfort that shouldn’t have made sense in a beach resort—but absolutely did. A grilled salmon with sautéed greens and orange hollandaise offered balance, while Ayam Goreng, Indonesian-style fried chicken with spicy chutney, added a fiery kick. I chased it all down with some chilled Fiji Gold, the country’s national beer that feels practically made for nights like this.

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Fiji greets you like family: A journey into its heart—the villages

From Sanasana sunrises to lagoon‑side feasts

Mornings at the InterContinental Fiji don’t start quietly; they begin with a glow. I followed the golden light to Sanasana Restaurant, where floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breakfast scene straight out of a postcard: tropical gardens still dewy from dawn, the antique sugar-cane train track winding through the lawn, and just beyond, the ocean catching the first sparkles of sun.

Buffet breakfasts can sometimes feel perfunctory, but here, they’re anything but. Everything from the breads to the jams tasted thoughtful, local and fresh. A chef stood behind a live station making different styles of eggs, while coffee arrived promptly, strong and smooth.

After my lunch visit to Jubairata village, dinner brought me back to the InterContinental’s refined edge, this time to Navo Specialty-Dining, the resort’s signature restaurant perched on the lagoon’s edge, its walls of glass revealing the quiet shimmer of water and the sacred island of Navo just offshore.

I opted for a multi-course affair that showcased the region’s finest ingredients with global flair. It began with kokoda urau, Yasawa lobster in a silky coconut cream, fragrant with lemongrass and coriander, served chilled like an ocean breeze. Then came braised lamb shanks, slow-cooked and flavoured with Ras el Hanout, nestled beside soft polenta, roasted artichoke and a whisper of burnt bush lemon. The lobster thermidor, gratinéed with Gruyère and mustard, was both indulgent and refined.

Dessert arrived in the form of a mango-passion sago pudding, topped with mango sorbet and laced with coconut cream, a tropical finale. The cocktails complemented the meal, and the service was poised and warm, with just the right touch of ceremony.

Tropical mornings, harbour nights

Next evening, I found myself on the edge of Suva Harbour, with the elegant glow of Na Toba Pool Bar at the Grand Pacific Hotel. I began with the hotel’s signature cocktail, the GPH G & Tea—a sophisticated ode to Suva’s high tea tradition, crafted with Blue Turtle Gin, Earl Grey, and dried Batiri orange. Its delicate, citrusy bitterness paired beautifully with the soft ocean breeze and the fading light of the Pacific.

The meal that followed was bright and fresh. The kokoda was zingy and velvety, the coconut milk mellowing the heat of chilli and lemon. A papaya salad with chicken arrived bursting with texture and flavour: shredded green papaya, roasted peanuts, sprigs of mint and coriander, all tangled in a sweet-savoury peanut sauce.

For my main, the pan-seared New Zealand salmon stole the show, its skin crisp, the flesh buttery, nestled beside a refreshing fennel and tomato salad and a swirl of ginger-carrot purée. I couldn’t resist sampling the barbecue chicken pizza, topped with bell peppers, onion and just the right amount of smoky sauce. Between bites and sips, I watched the clear night sky and the stars shimmering beyond the waterline.

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Retreat and restore: Fiji’s soulful stays and spa rituals

Suva classics and island‑style Italian

At Levuka Restaurant, set within the Grand Pacific Hotel’s storied heritage building, breakfast was effortless. The buffet was generous but refined: platters of fruit, freshly baked pastries, tropical juices, grilled vegetables and eggs made to order. The setting, polished timber floors, white columns, soft ceiling fans, felt like stepping back into another era.

Suva’s colonial past lingered in the air like perfume, and nowhere more so than at Prince Albert Restaurant, where I dined on my final night in the capital. Beneath high ceilings and graceful arches, the menu offered its own tribute to the South Pacific. I began with a classic Caesar salad, local cos lettuce, bacon, anchovies, and a perfect poached egg, nestled among garlic croutons and parmesan shavings. Then came two standout mains: a deeply flavoured bone-in goat curry served with cumin basmati rice, dhal, and crisp pappadums, and the other, a flaky battered fish with fries and a side of dill-spiked dip. The atmosphere was dignified but never stiff, like dining in a living piece of history, with flavours as timeless as the setting.

Moving to Yanuca Island, I discovered a distinctly different atmosphere at Mirch Indian Restaurant, nestled within the tropical charm of the Black Marlin Bar. Dinner here was bold and spiced, Indian flavours turned up to match the Fijian humidity. I began with cheesy samosas, filled with goat cheese, spinach and cashew, followed by a juicy lamb keema tikki topped with pine seeds and pickled vegetables. Then came the trio of chicken kebabs, each marinated in different spices from chilli and ginger to cardamom and cheese.

But the star of the night was the lamb rogan josh, slow-cooked in a rich gravy of Kashmiri chilli, fried onions, and saffron, served with rice and pillowy naan. A Mangalorean-style prawn curry, poached in spiced coconut milk, added southern heat and balance, paired with aromatic coconut rice.

The next afternoon, lunch was at the Beach Bar & Grill, steps from the pool and lagoon. I tucked into a platter of fried chicken, calamari and prawns, served alongside golden fries, wedges and crisp onion rings. Cold drinks came quickly, and the view, blue skies over bluer water, was the kind that made you forget what day it was.

For my final dinner in Fiji, I was transported to Italy courtesy of Golden Cowrie Coastal Italian Restaurant. The interiors were stylish, the lagoon views beyond the terrace were dramatic, even in the dark. I ordered the Trenette all’ Aragosta, handmade pasta swirled with lobster, roma tomato, cream and a hint of basil-chilli oil. Each bite was a perfect harmony of richness and spice. A signature cocktail, citrusy, herbaceous and dangerously smooth, made for a fitting farewell toast.

The flavour of Fiji

By the end of my journey, it wasn’t just the food I remembered—it was the feeling it left behind. From oceanfront grills to village lovo feasts, polished fine-dining rooms to barefoot beach lunches, every meal in Fiji offered more than just flavour. It offered connection.

This is a place where food is layered with memory and meaning, served with a story, a smile, and often, a view. Where a simple lunch becomes an act of welcome, and a lavish dinner still carries the intimacy of home. Whether rich with spice, kissed with coconut, or wrapped in island freshness, Fijian cuisine is as much about generosity as it is about ingredients.

Like the spa rituals and village encounters that shaped this journey, Fiji’s food experience is soulful and restorative—meant to be savoured slowly, shared widely, and remembered fondly. Because here, hospitality is as essential an ingredient as any spice.

(Cover image designed by Nihar Apte)