It's not so bad, being marooned on a desert island. Here on Monuriki, there are so many coconut trees – and, beyond them, waters so alive with fish – that I could keep myself nourished forever. Like Tom Hanks' character in the movie Cast Away, which was filmed on this outcrop in Fiji's Mamanuca Islands, I could set up camp beneath those trees over there, dislodge some coconuts from a towering palm tree, and throw them against a rock until they've shattered into a thousand tasty pieces.
But unlike Hanks, who washed up onto Monuriki alone, I've got company. And that company's got food. Containers filled with croissants and pastries and dainty little cakes. Tubs overflowing with papaya and watermelon and orange. Mounds of hard-boiled eggs. Salt and pepper shakers. Flasks of coffee. Jugs of milk. Of course it's not such a bad thing, being marooned on a desert island.
And just as well, for surviving on coconuts is hard work. First, someone must shimmy up the palm tree and dislodge an older, fleshy coconut (young ones are best for the refreshing, tonic-like liquid contained within). Then they must smash open their steel-hard shells, gouge out the meat and – should they require cream – squeeze it until its moisture leaks out in a silken, milky stream.
"When your mother tells you you're eating fish with coconut for dinner, you usually sneak out, because [sourcing the coconut is] a hard job," says guide Jese Saukuru.
"You have to find it, husk it, scrape it, squeeze it."
But our picnic on Monuriki is far less onerous. We're on a morning jaunt here from the island of Malolo, where sister properties Malolo Island Resort and Likuliku Lagoon Resort are, one tucked away from the other's sight behind a rocky, protective bluff. Saukuru and the captain of our boat, Maika Nasilasila, have brought with them offerings not anticipated in a location as remote as this. After snorkelling the crystalline waters – so intensely populated, so convivial beneath the surface it hurts to imagine the loneliness Hanks' character felt – we dry our skin beneath the early morning sun and satiate our appetites with the impressive bounty from Malolo's kitchen.
It's there, on that far-flung island that the resort's executive chef, Yngve Muldal, along with his pastry chef and partner, Rhea Pacaud, dream up dishes worthy of a thoroughly metropolitan address. At Malolo I've tasted gravlax salmon cured in bush lemon and topped with pickled bongo chilli, and eaten tuna caught by a guest a few hours earlier and served with sour cream and avocado mousse, ginger pickles, micro herbs from the vegetable garden at Likuliku, and a champagne and red wine dressing.
I've been presented with a thali tray filled with Fijian freshwater prawn curry, dhal makhani and beef curry made with ribeye seared on a braai (as a nod to Muldal's South African heritage). I've dug into a plate of pecan pie made with maple syrup tapped by the couple themselves during a visit to Pacaud"s homeland, Canada. I've had to choose from an incomprehensibly diverse and healthy breakfast spread: tropical fruit and muesli and eggs every way, bowls filled with pumpkin seeds and chia seeds, nuts and raw oats and yoghurt, mounds of vegetables ready to be juiced, and gluten-free pancakes drizzled with honey collected from the beehives in Likuliku's garden.
In short, I've eaten the sort of fare I'd expect to encounter in luxury hotels in the world's top cities. I've had my perceptions of tropical resort food – buffets groaning with cold, rubbery prawns and limp salads and yesterday's bread rolls – thoroughly contradicted. Resort dining, it seems, has overcome the immense challenges of sourcing both fresh produce and outstanding chefs.
At Malolo Island Resort, this commitment to good, healthy eating has extended beyond guests' requirements. At last year's annual medical checkup, doctors found that 75 per cent of staff were overweight, based on BMI. It was a worrying diagnosis, for the adoption of a western diet among Fijians has brought with it the scourge of Type 2 diabetes and its attendant complications.
"We sat down with our general manager Steve Anstey and we changed all the staff menus," says Muldal.
"We went for portion size, we went for healthy options. We serve only fresh fish for the guys up in the staff quarters now [and] we have a dietitian who's signed off on all the menus. We also encourage a lot of produce from the local villages. Obviously it's not enough to sustain the whole resort, but what little healthy produce we can get we buy from them because that encourages them to grow more. So you can see the quantities are getting bigger. We're moving in the right direction."
The results have been startling: in less than a year the number of overweight staff members has dropped to 45 per cent. And while the staff's eating habits are being transformed, Muldal had found himself adapting menus to cope with the increasing number of dietary requirements presented by guests.
"Especially over the last year and a half, I've noticed a huge increase in dietary requirements," he says.
"Last year we had 36 bures in-house, of which 34 bures had dietary [requirements], of which certain bures had multiple dietaries. At one point I was doing 112 menus a day. That's honestly the worst it's been. I was shattered. You've got to make sure that it's spot on, make sure the dish gets to the right person, which is just as stressful, because sometimes things do get lost in translation. But touch wood, we've made it through."
Such is his commitment, Muldal and a staff member travelled to a mill on the mainland to make brown rice flour for one allergy-prone guest.
"We couldn't get it imported [due to Fiji's strict bio-hazard laws], so myself and my purchasing guy … cleaned out the mill ourselves, ground our own rice to make flour, and catered to her for the eight days she was here. Our philosophy here is we don't say no. We do our best."
The same ethos applies a short boat ride away, just around the bluff, where Likuliku Lagoon Resort lazes beside a sweeping coral lagoon, shallow and clear as a bath. Tucked behind the resort is the vegetable garden from which Likuliku's executive chef, Shane Watson, and Malolo's Muldal source as many of their ingredients as possible.
But still, supplies must be brought in from elsewhere, and those strict import laws and natural disasters can disrupt the chain. Most recently, cyclones Winston and Zena ruined many of Fiji's fruit plantations, leaving resorts bereft of one of their key sources of food.
"You have to be flexible here," says Watson.
"If you don't have key ingredients, make something else work. We have to be open to last-minute creative emergencies. I need to just be ready to tweak menus whenever it is required – if that means developing a whole new dish one hour before dinner service, then so be it."
But the clouds that sometimes gather about this paradise are rimmed with a silver lining: an abundance of sun and air and space, and those plentiful supplies like coconuts and fresh fish give the chefs a creative freedom not always available in unyielding city kitchens.
"Living in this environment, and the free head space that goes along with it, is probably the biggest plus creatively," says Watson.
"If it's not flowing, go for a swim, pick some herbs, climb a hill, take a nap. The lack of life's normal pressures is somewhat dissolved out here."
FIVE SOPHISTICATED ISLAND RATIONS
ICED ARRIVAL TEA
Guests request the recipe for this signature welcome drink long after they've left Likuliku Lagoon Resort – but few are able to replicate it. Chilled orange iced tea is combined with passionfruit, mint and a stem of local sugar cane to create this memorable drink. Perhaps it's the setting in which it's imbibed – rather than the drink itself – that can't be reproduced back home.
CHRISSY'S LEMONGRASS CREME BRULEE
Named for a regular Malolo guest who loves creme brulee, this classic dessert is given the local treatment with honeycomb made from the resort's own honey and fluffy marshmallows infused with Fijian vanilla.
ANGRY FIJIAN
The name of Malolo's most popular cocktail is misleading: made from a soothing mix of Kahlua, Baileys and coconut cream, the drink is usually ordered – and served – with a wide smile, and comes with the eminently friendly word "bula" written inside the glass.
GRILLED REEF OCTOPUS
Everything in this dish is sourced from within a one-kilometre radius of Likuliku's kitchen. Every couple of days a fisherman named Big Joe delivers reef octopus caught at low tide off the beach next door; it's put through several cooking processes – including a final turn on the wood-fire grill – to achieve a tender finish, and is paired with green papaya, chilli, mint, basil and sawtooth coriander from the garden.
COCO MOJITO
How to turn a Cuban classic into uniquely South Pacific cocktail? At Likuliku the barman adds a hint of coconut to white rum, refreshing mint and muddled lime, and waits for the guests to come back for more.
TRIP NOTES
MORE INFORMATION
GETTING THERE
Fiji Airways flies direct to Nadi from Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. See www.fijiairways.com (. Transfers to Malolo Island are by catamaran or seaplane.
STAYING THERE
Rates at Malolo Island Resort start at around $568 per room, including taxes. Meal plans start at $107 per person, per day. Rates at Likuliku Lagoon Resort start around $2056 per room per night, including taxes and all meals. See www.likulikulagoon.com.
Catherine Marshall was a guest of Malolo Island Resort.
