The barbecue begins long before the first plate reaches the table. The chef considers what fishermen have brought in, what is in season at local markets, and what guests want to eat that day. Perhaps it is just-caught lobster and shrimp, or the familiar comfort of ribs and chicken.

For guests curious to taste the Dominican Republic, that might mean exploring flavors found in dishes such as sancocho, a traditional Caribbean stew, or the national dish, La Bandera, reimagined for the relaxed setting of a beach lunch. For others, it might be something more familiar. At ÀNI, the barbecue can accommodate both: a taste of the island for those who want to discover it, alongside the dishes guests already love.

A morning spent deep-sea fishing might end with the catch returning to the kitchen, ready to become whatever feels right that evening. Mahi-mahi could be sliced for sushi, brightened into ceviche, or laid over the grill. The decision might change with the weather, the mood, or a passing conversation at lunch.

That same instinct guides how the ingredients are prepared. A local lobster, split and lightly seasoned, needs little more than herb-infused butter to complement its natural sweetness. A rack of baby back ribs is slow-cooked until tender before being smoked and glazed over the fire, taking on a deep, sticky sheen. Sweet potato softens slowly over the heat; mango brings brightness while bitter orange cuts through richness.

There is local history in the fire, too. ‘Barbecue’ derives from the Taíno word barbacoa: a raised wooden structure used to keep food above the ground, which became associated with cooking fish and meat over an open fire. The technique traveled, changed, and was adapted over time. For our guests, its modern expression remains elemental: soulful ingredients, carefully controlled heat, and the Caribbean beyond.

Once the grill is lit, it becomes the centerpiece of the day. The scent of caramelizing spices and woodsmoke hangs in the warm air, signaling the start of a long, languid lunch by the sea. There is no strict procession of courses, no sense that anyone needs to be in their seat at a particular moment.

As ingredients sizzle and soften, temperature and timing are the quiet disciplines behind the spectacle of the grill. The fire should know when to be fierce and when to be patient. The right moment matters as much as the ingredient itself: enough heat to caramelize and char, enough restraint to preserve the sweetness of corn on the cob. For our chef, that connection is the point: to take something at its best, understand what it needs, and give it just enough fire to let it speak for itself.

At ÀNI, the beauty of a beach barbecue lies as much in the moments around the table as in what arrives on the plate. There is space for the day to unfold naturally, with nothing prescribed and everything considered.
 
Stand-up paddleboards wait in neat rows at the water’s edge, ready for an impromptu excursion between bites. The team moves with the same easy rhythm, anticipating without interrupting. A plate arrives when the conversation is right; a glass is refreshed almost unnoticed. Someone slips into the shallows, another lingers over lunch, and the table remains there whenever they return – exactly as they left it, only perhaps with something new to taste.
 
Nothing feels hurried, yet nothing is overlooked. Our beach barbecues are all about creating a sense of togetherness that feels entirely natural. Lunch simply stretches to meet the afternoon, leaving room for the kind of unplanned moments that become the stories everyone remembers.