In another venture out from our usual dinner haunts, we decided to give Zion a try. With the major buzz surrounding Zion, we looked for great things. But the culinary bar is set pretty high on St Barth, with L’Esprit, L’Isola, Orega, and Bagatelle, to name a few. Meeting expectations with a new venture must be tough. Nevertheless, Zion has been heavily promoted, even showing up in spray-painted graffiti around Saline (which is definitely not cool).
Although I enjoyed the calculated shabbiness of Andy’s Hideaway, with its dodgy bathrooms and view of the car park, Zion’s new garden setting is a major step up. It’s elegant in a laid-back, St Barth sort of way and seems less noisy and crowded. The wait staff is young and enthusiastic, and was kind enough to put up with my feeble attempts at speaking French. (At times, I lapse into a new language called Franglish, which although not an effective form of communication, does succeed in amusing the French.). Regarding the kitchen staff, my wife mentioned that the chef ranks about a “9” on the 10 point “cute” scale. (I add this for the benefit of Missy, who still mourns the departure of Manu.).
Now about the food...We started with duck confit pie, topped with foie. What could be bad, right? While my wife enjoyed her version, mine was...well...gritty. It seemed to contain crunchy bits (not bone) that didn’t belong. Not wanting to insult the chef, I did finish the whole thing. After all, I could use more fiber in my diet. Besides, I have a strict “leave no foie behind” policy, regardless of the circumstances.
The mains were another mixed bag. My wife’s poitrine de volaille (chicken) was good. But because I’ve been on a steady diet of seafood lately, I was in desperate need of red meat and decided to go with the “Entrecote Chairman”. Now why, you ask, would anyone order something labeled “Chairman” in a French restaurant? I’m blaming this unfortunate choice on a critically low serum level of cholesterol, impairing my higher cortical functioning. In the end, the steak was a small, rather tough piece of ribeye, not at all up to the standards of the late, great Meat and Potatoes or the current Bagatelle. This was surprising, given the availability of good beef on the island. Luckily, with my wife now preoccupied with staring at the cute chef, I had plenty of time to chew my way through the entrecote.
Dessert was good, but nothing unusual: a tatin and a baba.
Would we go back to Zion? Actually, we would. I liked the setting and the people, and would order differently next time. It’s not spectacular, but seems a solid choice. Besides, my wife likes the “scenery” and I do need more fiber in my diet.
Although I enjoyed the calculated shabbiness of Andy’s Hideaway, with its dodgy bathrooms and view of the car park, Zion’s new garden setting is a major step up. It’s elegant in a laid-back, St Barth sort of way and seems less noisy and crowded. The wait staff is young and enthusiastic, and was kind enough to put up with my feeble attempts at speaking French. (At times, I lapse into a new language called Franglish, which although not an effective form of communication, does succeed in amusing the French.). Regarding the kitchen staff, my wife mentioned that the chef ranks about a “9” on the 10 point “cute” scale. (I add this for the benefit of Missy, who still mourns the departure of Manu.).
Now about the food...We started with duck confit pie, topped with foie. What could be bad, right? While my wife enjoyed her version, mine was...well...gritty. It seemed to contain crunchy bits (not bone) that didn’t belong. Not wanting to insult the chef, I did finish the whole thing. After all, I could use more fiber in my diet. Besides, I have a strict “leave no foie behind” policy, regardless of the circumstances.
The mains were another mixed bag. My wife’s poitrine de volaille (chicken) was good. But because I’ve been on a steady diet of seafood lately, I was in desperate need of red meat and decided to go with the “Entrecote Chairman”. Now why, you ask, would anyone order something labeled “Chairman” in a French restaurant? I’m blaming this unfortunate choice on a critically low serum level of cholesterol, impairing my higher cortical functioning. In the end, the steak was a small, rather tough piece of ribeye, not at all up to the standards of the late, great Meat and Potatoes or the current Bagatelle. This was surprising, given the availability of good beef on the island. Luckily, with my wife now preoccupied with staring at the cute chef, I had plenty of time to chew my way through the entrecote.
Dessert was good, but nothing unusual: a tatin and a baba.
Would we go back to Zion? Actually, we would. I liked the setting and the people, and would order differently next time. It’s not spectacular, but seems a solid choice. Besides, my wife likes the “scenery” and I do need more fiber in my diet.
