St. Barth is a haven for big money, known for better food than anywhere else in the Caribbean, but it doesn’t offer easy entrée for the superstar restaurateurs who love to feed the rich. Cyril Lignac, whose career in Paris began in 2000 in the kitchen of L’Arpège and soared after he starred in Oui, Chef, a French adaptation of Jamie Oliver’s Jamie’s Kitchen, is the latest arrival. His Asian-inflected sushi-and-steakhouse Bar des Près, on the presqu’ile of the island’s capital, Gustavia, opened for Thanksgiving–an instant restaurant rookie of the year.
The restaurant scene on St. Barth has long been a triangular trade. Since tourism began there in the late 1950s, Creole-inflected local eateries specializing in seafood and, in the early days, turtle steak, have been a staple. Later, gourmet restaurants, refined, restrained, sophisticated, arrived. In the 1970s, Michel Oliver, son of a French culinary legend, was sometimes in the kitchen of Les Castelets, a hilltop hotel-restaurant that critic Craig Claiborne declared “most agreeable.” In 1991, Pino Luongo, proprietor of a series of in-crowd Italian restaurants in Manhattan, took it over, and renamed it Sapore di Mare. After two seasons of fierce local opposition to an outsider, Luongo raised a white flag and fled. But in the meantime, he inspired his friend Jean Georges Vongerichten to open a place in Gustavia; Citronelle lasted a mere six months. One of a baker’s dozen of L’Atelier by Joël Robuchon named for the Michelin-favorite chef opened on the island just before Robuchon died in 2021, but shuttered a few years back. Vongerichten returned and has had a successful run as the guiding hand behind the restaurants at the Eden Rock hotel. So the outlook for Lignac is unclear.
In the interim, a new foodie trend swallowed the island, reflecting the tug-of-war that now defines it. Along with local and gourmet spots, St. Barth now caters to gourmands who want indulgent and excessive experiences. Local, gourmet, gourmand? All are expensive, so that’s no differentiator.
Lignac’s Parisian restaurants pull off the rare feat of blending the three tendencies. They feel local, especially at my favorite, Le Chardenoux, a 1908 bistro he took over in the Eleventh Arrondissement, and on rue du Dragon in the 6ème, which is home to three Lignac establishments: Dragon, which serves Asian fare, Aux Près, a steakhouse, and Le Bar, a cocktail lounge. But Lignac’s skillful techniques and his wizardry at sourcing the best ingredients satisfy gourmet cravings, and his generous portions and wide appeal (hip-hop crews, sophisticated Frenchies, coked-out club types and tourists all patronize his places) betray a gourmand spirit.
Will that work on St. Barth? Bar des Près is a striking room, done up in marble, bamboo, rattan and silk, with sail-cloth draped ceilings, both sushi and drinks bars, impeccable service and his signature sourcing. Raw, marinated, fried and robata-grilled dishes have broad appeal. Desserts are already renowned around the island. On a Saturday night in early March, I tried a special otoro tataki, shrimp and asparagus tempura, sate beef filets, and black cod in yuzu miso and a bottle of Vouvray Les Enfers from Domaine Mathieu Cosme. Everything was exquisite. And expensive.
My only criticism? Between the two nightly seatings, I didn’t mind when the lights dimmed, but could have lived without the raised volume of music played by a DJ lost in trance, dancing with himself. That, for me, was a concession to current St. Barth clichés that did not succeed. But if he keeps true to himself, Cyril Lignac just might.
Cyril Lignac
