The night was dark and I was faced with a tough choice: ginger, passion fruit, vanilla, rosemary, lemon, banana, cinnamon or coffee.
“Or one of each,” winked Mirella
Armance, playfully bumping her hips against mine as she walked me along the line of her crystal-decanted homemade rums. “The only fruit you can’t use is pineapples,” she said, pouring a sailor’s-size measure into my glass and ushering me into her dining room.
Family photos hung higgledy-piggledy on the wall while vases of freshly picked pink bougainvillea colonised the long table alongside dishes of rougaille (a spicy tomato stew), chicken salmi (roasted meat), fish curry, roti breads and chilli pickle. Twice a week, she and her eight daughters serve up a home-cooked meal for travellers hungering for the real Mauritius.
‘Mauritius is…
