St. Bart's Island House smoothly translates sophisticated French cuisine to an evocative West Indies setting.
By CHRIS SHERMAN
Published October 2, 2003
[Times photo: Fraser Hale]
Owner Gordon Davis has turned Le Bordeaux into St. Bart’s Island House, a casual, tropical and affordable dining spot on South Howard.
TAMPA - In every city, a few long-lived restaurants win the dubious honor of the constant question, "How is it now? I hear it's (gotten better/fallen off)."
One such in Tampa was Le Bordeaux, which after 15 years as "the affordable French restaurant," became St. Bart's Island House to deliver French food livelied up with rum and reggae.
Because the location remains the same, a rambling old ranch house (with pool) that has been a gourmet destination for 30 years, the question persists. The answer is quite well, thank you, most nights. And on occasion, like when wahoo is the catch of the day, it is superb.
That's an improvement on my first visit, when owner Gordon Davis and chef Jon Eric Kern (Boca, Rita Carlino's and Le Bordeaux) were early in the evolution. The plan was to make French cuisine less intimidating to modern diners by relocating it to the West Indies, closer to Floribbean shores.
It started with the usual mistake in faux Caribbean: cooking with too much fruit and an occasional pepper pot. That's especially out of place on St. Barthelemy, one of the most sophisticated and European of the islands, a place where Creole cooking owes more to French tradition than to the tropics, and the music is as likely to be a string quartet as souk.
Recent visits showed greater restraint with the sweet stuff while play continued with the conceit of a tropical translation of French cooking. There is an imaginative "cassoulet" of lobster and black beans, duck confit with a mango glaze, and coffee-cocoa sauce on the filet mignon. Yet you can have onion tart, foie gras, charcuterie or mustard and Cognac on the veal chop, favorites of the ancien regime on both sides of the Atlantic.
The greater success is the imposition of the Spanish tapas concept. Here the little dishes are called petits plats, and the menu provides a good variety of surprisingly substantial tastes, hot and cold, for $5 to $9.
Two of these can make a charming meal, say, a wrap of tuna tartare followed by softshell crab or a pork-banana skewer.
My best duo started with the lump crab and avocado tower with a little cilantro, a stack of bright, clean flavors. We followed that with grilled quail, which had a rum raisin sauce that was fortunately more savory than sweet.
Likewise, the duck confit, in which the leg and thigh are preserved classically in duck fat, came out crisp and with only the tiniest touch of mango. The mere mention of fruit glaze on duck scares me, but this time it worked, or at least a petit plat-ful seemed just enough.
On grander plates, a grilled medallion of wahoo was perfect, but sauteed flounder was surprisingly dull, despite cilantro lime butter and a crusty crab cake. A sweet potato cake rather like a stamp'n'go fritter could have helped, but it was too dry.
My other disappointment was in mussels, which got a wholly New American stock of corn, cream and chili, wonderful flavors and textures. You could have eaten all the bread in the restaurant with this stuff, but the mussels were tired, not off, but soggy.
Bread, miniature baguettes and a sweet-spiced brown bread (a staple in Tampa's cleverest restaurants), could be improved, too; the French took great bread in their kit wherever they went.
But the details are generally sharp, a well-chosen wine list that includes modest French choices, the best rum list of aged beauties in town, and smart servers who know the food, pay attention to your needs and add French charm. It works best when Davis himself presides at the rattan desk in the foyer, directing guests to the dining room or the poolside rum bar; without him, the welcome and coordination can be sloppy.
Overall it's a handsome rejuvenation of the old place in a breezy plantation style of bright colors and louvred windows.
Unfortunately, the marquee and a crew of valets project the image of a fancy, rather stuffy spot, instead of a place that is casual, tropical and, yes, affordable.
The journey from Le Bordeaux to this fictional St. Bart's is long, but the cooking is smart and surprisingly light, and the rum ration more than ample. Come along. Add St. Bart's to the tapas trail on Howard, and we might land in that far-off port where French food is fun.
St. Bart's Island House
1302 S Howard Ave.
Tampa
(813) 251-0367
Hours: 5:30 to 10 p.m. Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, 5:30 to 11 p.m. Friday, Saturday; tapas served until midnight.
Reservations: Suggested.
Details: Major credit cards, full bar, no smoking indoors; wheelchair access through cottage; restrooms not adapted.
Features: Rum bar; live music; private rooms.
Prices: Tapas, $4.50 to $11.95; entrees, $13.95 to $29.95.
