Discovering Aruba: A Culinary Adventure Beyond the Beaches
At first glance, the Saturday market at STR Agriculture in Noord, Aruba, appears unassuming. A few tables are scattered across a concrete patio, sheltered under a metal awning adorned with small Aruban flags. The selection of produce is modest—long pumpkins, bananas, and cucumbers grown in the farm’s greenhouses. But as I meandered among the vendors, the atmosphere burst into life.
I encountered a friendly German vendor offering tempting cheesecakes layered with velvety black-cherry jam, alongside a spirited woman from the Canary Islands who introduced me to her jar of mojo rojo, a spicy red-pepper sauce that promised to elevate any meal. Nearby, “Dr. Green” served refreshing lemonade and poffertjes, delightful miniature Dutch pancake puffs. An unattended cooler aspired to my attention with its chicken-curry roti rolls.
This vibrant tapestry of flavors isn’t surprising, considering Aruba’s reputation as one of the Caribbean’s most ethnically diverse islands. The locals’ multilingual prowess reflects a rich cultural backdrop: Dutch, a nod to Aruba’s status as a self-governing entity within the Kingdom of the Netherlands; English, the lingua franca for the island’s 1.4 million annual visitors; Spanish, a remnant of past colonization; and Papiamento, the charming local creole.
Among those celebrating this melange of cultures is Urvin Croes, one of Aruba’s leading chefs. Croes shared his rich heritage—his mother boasts Venezuelan and German roots, while his paternal lineage includes a traditional Aruban grandmother and a Chinese grandfather.
After honing his skills in Italy, Croes followed the path of many young Arubans to the Netherlands, where he spent seven years in a Michelin-starred kitchen. Yet, he felt the magnetic pull of his island. Upon returning home, he launched several restaurants, including Caya, a Latin-Caribbean venue, and the finer dining experience of Infini, featuring an eight-course tasting menu with dishes like crispy Peking quail alongside beef in a Caribbean creole sauce. Remarkably, 60 percent of Infini’s ingredients are sourced locally—a significant feat considering Aruba’s challenging climate. “We have so much to offer,” Croes asserted, “We can reshape the narrative that Aruba is just about beaches and present it as a culinary destination.”
During my visit, I was struck by how densely packed the 70-square-mile island is with eateries—approximately 540, by Croes’s estimation. Many draw water from international influences. In San Nicolas, for instance, I sampled jerk chicken and curry goat at O’Niel Caribbean Kitchen, crafted by Jamaican chef Oneil Williams. This area, once shaped by Afro-Caribbean immigrants laboring in the oil industry, is now blossoming, featuring art galleries and hosting the annual Aruba Art Fair.
In the heart of Santa Cruz, I stumbled upon Huchada, a bakery nestled within a colorful cunucu, a traditional country house. The fragrance of empanadas and arepas danced alongside local favorites like spicy fritters made from black-eyed peas, and pastiches, the deep-fried turnovers often found at Aruban breakfast tables. Meanwhile, Café 080 showcased Dutch treats like cheese soufflé and bitterballen, another reminder of Aruba’s ties to its colonial past.
Yet, not every dish is easily pigeonholed. Aruban cuisine is a unique blend of Indigenous Arawakan, Iberian, and West African flavors. Croes mentioned the traditional dish karni stoba, a braised beef stew, and introduced me to pan bati, a pancake made from sorghum, akin to polenta. For genuine Aruban classics, one should seek out local haunts where currency is the florin, not the dollar. Pika’s Corner, for example, serves up tantalizing dishes like balchi pisca (fish cakes) and fresh-grilled conch.
My journey coincided with Autentico, an annual culinary festival initiated in 2024 to honor Aruban cuisine. On a balmy evening, I wandered through vibrant food stalls and pop-up bars lining the pastel-hued streets of Oranjestad, the island’s capital. Locals and visitors united in anticipation at Azar Open Fire Cuisine, where a team of chefs grilled skirt steak and guava-glazed pork belly. I made a mental note to revisit their permanent establishment in Palm Beach on my next trip. The aloe-vera liqueur from the Pepe Margo Distillery emerged as the festival’s unofficial cocktail—a refreshing embrace and the perfect end to a delightful evening.
As for the highlight of my trip, that came in the cozy seaside town of Savaneta. In its simplicity, I found profound satisfaction in perfectly cooked red snapper squeezed with lime, served at Zeerover. Here, one pays cash for freshly caught fish and shrimp by the pound, each dish prepared to order. I perched on a covered pier, gazing at bobbing boats and playful seagulls while the open kitchen seasoned the seafood, frying it to crisp perfection. Piled high with fries and plantains, accompanied by pickled onions and their signature creamy white sauce, I relished every bite alongside a cold Balashi beer and a few shakes of Aruban hot sauce. In that moment, I felt an unmistakable connection to Aruba.
A version of this story first appeared in the December 2025 issue of Travel + Leisure under the headline “Island Bites.”
