On my first trip to Bermuda, I arrived at my hotel hungry and immediately ordered room service: a salad, a burger, and a bowl of Bermuda fish chowder. Along with the meal, the server presented two small pitchers: dark rum in one and something called sherry peppers sauce in the other. Then she exited, leaving me to puzzle, were these for the salad? It was far too early for rum—even as a condiment. But I eventually figured that if the dressing had sherry in its name, it must be meant to finish the chowder, like you would with a New Orleans turtle soup, for instance, or lobster bisque. Sure enough, one swirl in the bowl and I knew it was a match. The clear, bronze liquid added a nutty, spicy dimension to each spoonful of the tomato-based broth. In fact, the sauce was so addictive that I drizzled some over the burger, and it, too, was enlivened by its brightness.