Brussels Bistro Frederick St Downtown

Twas another Tuesday night and not a lot was happening, so the Juggernaut and I ventured off to dine at the Brussels Bistro. Previous visits had not been disappointing. Continental cuisine was calling. Oui monsieur. I’m rather fond of this bijoux restaurant, with it’s wooden panelling, wall sconces and yellow glass lighting. Gallic music (accordions) sets a romantic tone. You feel a bit like you’re on holiday. They were enjoying a healthy weeknight trade with only a couple of tables to spare. Mind you, it doesn’t take too many people to fill the joint. We were seated with menus and offered drinks. J had a glass of pinot noir whilst I stuck to Perrier water; one of the joys of being pregnant. The menu has a quote from the famous gourmet (never heard of him) Arthur Buchwald. He wrote that ‘the best food in the world is French and the best French food is in Brussels.’  Come to think of it, Belgian and French food do seem pretty similar.  Who has a claim on Moules et Frites? They do a great line in them here but only on Thursdays to Saturdays, when they are flown in from Canada.  Quelle domage. Always on the menu are Gallic classics Escargots $14.95 and frogs’ legs with garlic butter $14.95. I am just too squeamish to try them. They taste just like chicken, apparently. My Dad always told us not to eat with our eyes. Well, I can’t. We were brought some bread and butter, on a neat little wooden board with recesses for the butter dish and knife. I like to have something to eat straight away; more so at the moment, as my appetite makes urgent and sudden demands on me. We had a starter each. J had the soup of the day; Cream of broccoli, for $6.50. Intensely green, well seasoned and just creamy enough; it was well made and pleasingly presented in an earthenware bowl with a handle. Homemade comfort. Extra bread was brought to us with tongs. J said it was the best soup he’d had in a while, as he happily slurped away. My salade maison $8.50 consisted of frisee lettuce, tomatoes, slivers of carrot and green beans coated in a fantastic vinaigrette. The perfect emulsion. Ah, the joy of a good salad. Max the manager saw me scribbling notes and smelt a rat; he came over and asked what I was up to. I had to spill the beans and tell him I was reviewing it. The service had been great up until then but it went up a notch. J got offered another glass of wine. It arrived almost instantly, much fuller than the last one. The slight wait for our main course wasn’t an issue as we’d put away quite a lot of delicious bread. Max kept us updated on our food’s progress and offered an apology. I had the baked salmon with béarnaise and a hearty dollop of Stoemp- a chunky mashed potato and carrot dish, with a healthy amount of butter in it. The salmon was a tad overcooked but still tasty. The béarnaise was a bit too vinegary but otherwise of a good consistency. The Stoemp was an absolute winner though. The Juggernaut went for gold with the Surf and Turf special $38.95. A juicy looking filet steak with béarnaise and half a lobster with garlic butter. Some grilled vegetables brought colour and vitamins to the plate. The steak was perfectly tender and medium rare but the lobster was a bit on the dry side, even borderline tough. I’m pretty sure he ate it all though.Given my license to eat, well, more at the moment, we had pre-ordered a soufflé with Grand Marnier in it. The booze tasted pretty intense to my palate, which has been alcohol deprived for the last few months. To J, it was a more subtle flavour. A soufflé is notoriously tough to pull off; many a Masterchef contestant has fallen at this hurdle, with failure to rise. It was marginally overdone but still good…it’s not something you see on many menus and as such, is quite a treat. Two pert macchiatos followed with some gorgeous little Belgian biscuits. We were the last table in the restaurant but not made to feel rushed.The Brussels bistro makes good, simple food with heart. It aims to please without showing off. I always leave with a warm fuzzy feeling, of having been taken care of. C’est bon, mes amies.

RAW ON DA PORCH Fifth Terrace Palmdale

As we near the end of January, New Years Resolutions to eat well and do more exercise may have fallen flat. Whilst I’m not one to make radical changes that are impossible to maintain, I reckon purging yourself of the badness every once in a while has to be done. Your gut flora will thank you for it. Incorporating healthier food into your diet all year round is the only way forward . And it needn’t mean rabbit food and hunger pangs. One pioneer flying the flag for healthy eating in Nassau is Raw on da Porch. With a name that sounds more like a hip hop night than an vegan eaterie, Raw on da Porch is dishing out funky fresh eats that will challenge any preconceptions about vegan food being bland. The owner, Chrissy Love, cares deeply about the food we eat, albeit not in a holier-than-though way. Raw on the Porch was borne out of a personal need to eat well, lose weight and be healthy. She is the proof of the pudding; brimming with energy and charisma. In a nutshell, Raw foodism is the practice of consuming uncooked, unprocessed food which has not been heated above 115F. Raw foodies believe that foods cooked above this temperature have lost much of their nutritional value and are less healthful or even harmful to the body.

Located in Palmdale, Raw is a modest hut with a couple of wooden tables outside. Open during the day, it provides weekday lunches to locals. I brought my lovely blond friend. Having both been here a few times already, we were aware that we might have to wait a bit for our lunch. As Chrissy acknowledges “ Our clients know that our food is not fast, it’s good. Thanks for your patience.” Good things do come to those who wait.

Quirky dishes with cute names like ‘Ish’ and ‘Nibs’ make up the menu. Everything is made using only nuts, seeds, vegetables, fruits and oils. I started off with a small Green Smoothie ($5); a palatable way to get your quota of greens. Kale and Spirulina are blended with some banana and ginger to make them taste, well, nice. You can just feel the goodness running down your throat as you slurp it.

We opted to share the Thai Salad wrap ($10) and the Sample Platter ($15). A shorter than usual wait and our food arrived, beautifully presented. The Thai Salad Wrap was a pretty parcel of rice paper, jam-packed with lettuce, tomatoes, carrot, ginger, red and green cabbage, avocado, cucumber and sesame seeds, accompanied by a soy sauce and garlic dip. It had great texture and was filled with flavour. So clean and revatilising. The sample platter was truly a ‘ting’ of beauty. It was made up of three dishes; the Scramble bowl; Ish and Chips and Nori Nibs. The Scramble bowl was fried vegan burger with sweet onions, tomato, thyme topped with fried plaintain. It was partnered with vegan coleslaw with a creamy mustardy dressing. Chrissy told how the dish was inspired by ghetto food. Her mother used to make a meal for their large family with one burger and lots of onion. This was an animal friendly versions and every bit as tasty. The Nori nibs were seaweed wrapped salad, like sushi. A bijoux portion of Ish and chips ( a play on fish and chips) consisted of a tuna-inspired concoction, made with chopped sea lettuce, garlic, almonds onions and lime, accompanied by vegetable crisps, almost like a chunky nutritious dip. Sounds a bit suspect I know but seriously moreish.

All of this was quite filling but again, in the name of research, we had to check out the dessert options. There very various ‘nice creams’; non dairy alternatives to ice cream. We opted for a paper cone of Sugar Apple ($5). I had yet to try this local fruit. It tasted unlike anything I’d eaten before. The flavour was intense, interesting but quite acidic. An acquired taste I’d say. Not sure if it’s for me. Hats off for originality though.

There is a lot of skill involved in the presentation and assembly of the food, not to mention in the cooking. Making vegan food taste great and provide all the necessary nutrients ain’t no easy task. Chrissy really has a finely tuned palate and understanding of food that could win over many a die-hard carnivore.

We left full of the joys of spring, promising to return soon. I urge you to go if you haven’t yet. It is lip smackingly good.

Harbourfront Lounge East Bay Street

I do love a Wednesday night out. Halfway through the week, with the previous weekend’s shenanigans behind me, I am ready and eager to venture out again. The Harbourfront lounge is also a fan of Wednesdays. On said night, they host a weekly Supper Club; offering a special menu of whatever takes the chef’s fancy. The Juggernaut and I needed little encouragement to go and check it out. Greeted with a rapturous reception, we immediately felt at ease. We took a table I the atmospheric courtyard, with its clay coloured walls sheltered by Sail awning and strings of lightbulbs. A gas fire in the centre lent a welcoming glow. I liked this place so far

Pleasant acoustic guitar playing on the speakers  gave rise to a relaxed bohemian atmosphere. The combination of gourmet menu in a laid back setting was a winning one. I could happily while away many an hour here.

My eyes lit up on seeing tonight’s theme; Lobster fiesta. What could be better? Food of the gods from local waters with an international spin. First things first. Wine. Our waiter suggested the Noble Torrontes Sauvignon/Chardonnay blend from Argentina,  a new additio n to the cellar, smooth with a fruity after taste. We took his word for it and ordered it.

The ‘boutique’ list was largely made up of wines from Argentina South Africa and the USA and included Fume Blanc and Pinot Noir, two of my faves.

 After perusing the tempting menu for some time, we placed our order. A bit greedy, admittedly. Hard to resist the spiny sweet fleshed suckers. A visit to the was a bit of a let down coming from the cosy earthy of the courtyard. Clearly this area had avoided the renovation that the main part of the restaurant had seen. The ladies was clad in pink granny chic tiles with matching coloured toilets. It wasn’t cool or ironic. Just wrong. This area was in dire need of some attention. When I returned the food had arrived. Don’t you love it when that happens?

Lobster and green mango summer rolls with chilli lime dipping sauce ($12) were beautifully constructed. The delicate white parcels on a mat of black nori were almost too pretty to ruin by eating. The rolls were clean and sharp. The sweet saltiness of the dipping sauce offset this beautifully. The flavours of Thailand in a mouthful.  Bravo.

The creamy lobster chowder ($12) was a bowl of soul food. Love and pride had gone into making this dish. Comforting and hearty, eating this was like wrapping yourself in a cashmere blanket in front of a log fire. The highly recommended Lobster Levelle was a lobster tail in garlic sherry cream sauce with Basmati rice and asparagus ($39). The indulgent sauce coated morsels of lobster nestled in the shell. My tastebuds did a little dance in my mouth. Heaven on a plate. The only disappointment was the Lobster and vegetable tempura with ponzu dipping sauce ($21). Great lovers of Japanese cuisine The Juggernaut and I are great lovers of Japanese cuisinebut sadly this lacked the finesse that great tempura demands. Heavy batter dragged the lobster and its vegetabes down.

A short break for digestion and thoughts turned to dessert. There were some stodgy puddings on offer, namely guava duff, key lime pie and chocolate brownie. They would push us over the edge. Instead we ordered some mango gelato. A huge mound arrived, more than we could cope with. It was too sweet for me; more intense mango flavours would have been welcome.

I looked around the cosy courtyard, genuinely baffled as to why more tables weren’t occupied. The food, service and atmosphere were on the whole pretty favourable. The a la carte menu offers international tapas, gourmet pizzas, pastas, seafood. A great mish mash of cuisines. I’m a fan of the Harbourfront Lounge. If you haven’t gone lately or at all, you should give it a whirl.

Blu, Elizabeth on Bay

Blu is the new kid on the block, the hot new dining and drinking spot to see and be seen in downtown Nassau. The Juggernaut and I decided to see what all the fuss was about and go for a quiet weeknight dinner. Greeted by a hostess at the door, we were led through the bar area of Blu, which was largely empty, except for a well-groomed party having a pre dinner aperitif and a smattering of diners. It felt very much like a nightclub with its dark wooden interior, crystal pendants and gleaming granite bar. High-end finishes were everywhere. The Juggernaut described it as ‘global sleek modernism’. Walking out onto the deck, I had a sudden flashback of my visit to Sydney in ‘02. A million dollar view of twinkling cruise ships and yachts bobbing in the evening breeze gave real wow factor. Expensive looking parasols and trendy rattan furniture furnished the deck. The owner, Bryn, came over and gave us a tour of the premises, proudly showing us round the upstairs lounge areas and private dining room. His mission was to create a restaurant that was miles away from the cheesy haunts that dominated the island’s waterfront. He wanted to make people feel they were no longer in Nassau and without doubt he has definitely succeeded. Although there are nods to Bahamian style, in the woven ceiling fans and palms, you could be anywhere. The setting really is breathtaking. Hats off to him for choice of location. I can foresee many a marriage proposal taking place on its deck. We sat down and studied the menu. A cross section of Mediterranean dishes with a few Moroccan ones thrown in. There was paella, seafood risotto, beef tenderloin with greek potato, duck confit. The Juggernaut and I were ravenous and tucked into the bread with relish. A basket of foccacia with flavoured dipping oils of paprika, arugula, chilli and incredible balsamic vinegar, it was a promising start. We ordered a bottle of French Pinot noir, easy drinking table plonk. Ahhhhhh. We shared the Bunuelos de Bacalao ($14); salt cod and potato cakes, a dish originating in Catalunya, Spain, where my father is from. I was understandably dubious of ordering these. It came on a chic rectangular plate, drenched in a pepperonata sauce. The cod cakes were crispy and succulent, nicely made. I felt the sauce let the dish down; it was overpowering and almost suffocated the fish. I think some allioli would have been a better choice of sauce here. Clearing our plates, the waiter asked if we needed any extra silver ware, which we clearly did. Meanwhile, our main courses arrived. My wild mushroom ravioli with cognac cream sauce ($32) was placed before me. The divine scent wafted teasingly up to my nose. J’s slow cooked lamb tagine with couscous sat patiently awaiting cutlery. We were left salivating for a few moments before we could attack our food. Expertly cooked, homemade pasta, with a woody, pungent flavour. The taste of autumn. J had the Lamb shank tagine ($38). A hearty hunk of lamb coated in a deep, rich sauce, full of the joys of Morrocco. Soft meat fell off the bone. A man’s dish. We had a bit of a pause before attempting dessert. The options included a selection of cheeses with mango compote and foccacia chips ($15), a warm chocolate fondant cake with chocolate chilli gelato ($12). We went for the trio of desserts; a tasting plate of tiramisu, chocolate and amaretto cheesecake, both presented in shot glasses and a baklava. It looked pretty enough. There were dots of raspberry coulis artfully placed in the middle of the plate with a mint leaf, such a classic dessert garnish. The tiramisu was a bit sickly for me, bland. The cheesecake had no texture. What is the point of a cheesecake with no crunch? Bah! The baklava was a bit sad; dry and crumbly. It was an anticlimax after the success of the previous course.A sting in the tail was when the bill arrived, charging $6 for a single espresso. Really? Ouch. All in all, there were some flashes of brilliance in this snazzy establishment. The service was very attentive and aimed to please. There are many dishes I’d like to sample here. I bet they make a mean cocktail too. I hope it does well. I’ll be back.

Taj Mahal, Parliament Street, Nassau

The Taj Mahal

When we lived in England, going for a curry was usually a group activity, a natural progression after a night in the pub. The Juggernaut and I were avid members of the Tooting Curry Club, which was basically an excuse to meet up with our mates every now and then and make our way round  the curry houses of London. Happy days. Our weekends would often end with a takeaway, if we couldn’t be arsed to cook on a Sunday night. As we hadn’t been for an Indian since arriving in Nassau, we weren't quite sure what to expect.Many of the people I’d asked about the Taj Mahal either hadn’t been there at all or hadn’t been in years. Those who had quite liked the food and ambience. The Taj Mahal is housed in a vibrantly coloured building, whose façade I had always admired. I opened the door to a mild whiff of cumin and body odour. The familar smell of curry houses on Brick lane in East London. The dark low-ceilinged foyer looked just like an old man’s boozer in the provinces of Britain. A throwback from the colonial days of old. There were two doors; one led to the restaurant, one to the pub. Slightly baffled, I opened the former.

Inside it felt like an empty pub at Christmas time. Tables were laid with red and green, gold poinsettias and other garish decorations festooned the dining area. Happy Indian music was playing to add to the joy. The floor was fitted with an immaculate checked carpet; a brave choice for restaurant flooring I felt. There was a lone male diner. Other diners came and went throughout our dinner but didn’t linger long. I needn’t have booked a table for nine. J and I ordered a beer; the only drink to have with curry, and perused the weighty menu while we awaited the rest of our party.The appetisers included such staples as Meat Samosas ($10.95) and Onion Bhajis ($8.95). Curries included the usual Chicken Tikka Masala ($17.95); possibly the most popular dish in Britain, Butter chicken ($21.95), Lamb Jalfrezi ($27.95) , Dopiaza and Rogan Josh. Most dishes could be ordered mild, medium or hot, with the exception of the Vindaloo which just came one way; hot as hell. Each dish was served with steamed rice. I was surprised to see Beef dishes on the menu as cows are sacred in India. Eating beef is a huge taboo and killing a cow can even lead to imprisonment. I began to doubt the authenticity of this place. We decided to order a load of curries and share them, along with a variety of Naan breads; garlic, butter, cheese and my top choice, Peshwari. Ah, it really had been too long since I last had an Indian.

We ordered a load of Poppadums with Mango Chutney for the table. The Poppadums had a slightly fishy taste, maybe from the oil they were fried in. Despite this they were perfectly ok. The real problem was the so-called Mango Chutney. Watery, radioactive-red jam. It had never even so much as shaken hands with a mango. This didn’t bode well at all. Not long afterwards big warm plates were brought out in anticipation of our main courses. Stainless steel boats bearing steaming curries garnished with coriander were brought out on a tray. The moment of truth had arrived. My Chicken Jalfrezi tasted pretty good, although it’s heat was quite harsh, it got you at the back of the throat. The Chicken Tikka Masala was so brightly coloured you could have seen it from outer space. The Lamb Gosht Bhuna was a favourite, with it’s pungent, unctuous sauce which clung to the chunks of meat. The aromatic chickpea curry, whose name escapes me, was a winner. However, the Vindaloo was brutal; it was so fiery you could barely tell what meat it contained. I just remember downing beer fast after trying it. We desperately needed more beer on the table. The waitresses had a tendency to huddle around the corner whenever we wanted to order more drinks. The portions were generous; you easily could share a curry with some sides. Needless to say, everyone had a little pot for lunch the following day.

When offered dessert, nobody could recall ever having tried anything Indian before. We were always to full or too drunk at that stage to order it. Nevertheless, out of curiosity I had a peek at the menu. Rice pudding, Gajar ka Halwa; young sweet carrots grated and cooked in milk, sugar syrup and almonds and various exotic fruits with syrup. No thanks. All a bit sickly for my tastes. All in all, it was a lot of fun. A bit pricey for what we had. Of course I’ve had better. I’d come back again to go to the pub. Whenever I feel homesick, I could imagine I’m back in England and order a pint with my portion of chickpeas. You won’t catch me touching the mango chutney though.

Luciano's East Bay St

 A winning raffle ticket, whose prize was a voucher towards dinner at Luciano’s, provided this month’s choice of restaurant.  Luciano’s is one of the heavyweights of the Nassau restaurant scene and has a reputation for consistently good Italian. Although familiar to  me, approaching the entrance to the elegant villa still felt dramatic, even though I had been to Luciano’s several times. Flanked by doormen and fronted by illuminated palm trees, stepping inside the marble clad hallway with its sweeping staircase brings to mind gangster flicks from a bygone era.

The Juggernaut and I were led through to a well positioned table at the water’s edge, with a million dollar view over the glittering marina. Many a holiday shot taking in the gleaming towers of Atlantis must have been taken from this vantage point. There was a mixture of tourists in the know and locals occupying the patio area.

A smooth waiter glided up immediately to offer us water, ‘officially’ introduce himself, adjust the table settings and generally inspire confidence that we would be looked after. He left us with the promise of warm bread upon his return. Good man. We exhaled deeply and took in our splendid surroundings.

Back in two shakes of a lambs’ tail, he proceeded to tell us about the specials. We sat mesmerised as a stream of superlatives poured forth from his mouth. It was an impressive performance. He went into fine detail about what was on offer tonight. Every now and then I would catch a key word such as ‘wedge of lemon’ or red snapper’.  He went off as we absorbed all this information and examined the menu. There was a section entitled ‘Cucina Lite; for those of our guests who are watching their intake of calories, fat, cholesterol or sodium’ These virtuous dishes included Chicken Cacciatore, Linguine pomodoro  or Veal limone. I could see several other diners who might want to consider ordering from this section.

The appetisers included grilled calamari ($10) Eggplant melanzane ($9) and Cacciuco fisherman’s soup ($15). There was a vast range of entrees, from linguine vongole $27, gnocchi with wild mushrooms $26 to New York Strip steak $37, which was corn fed and sourced from the Mid West.

We placed our order and slurped away contentedly at our chilled glasses of Gavi. The warm bread and caponata helped to stave off our growing hunger pangs. The shared starter of cracked conch cakes arrived already divided between two plates. Great attention to detail. I was reminded how sharp the service is here. The wedge of lemon was wrapped in linen, to avoid any pesky little pips landing on the food, a nice touch too.  The conch cakes were packed with tender chunks of conch, well seasoned and with a polite kick from the pepper.The Juggernaut exclaimed, “I like”.

A nearby table was getting the Happy Birthday treatment; a troupe of waiter percussionists and singers serenading the chosen one. They really do go that extra mile to make it a night to remember. A bit over the top for my British sensibilities; I’d find it all too embarrassing.

Our main courses came out looking heavenly. My ginormous shrimps reclined on  a pillow of some-sort-of-orzo-like-pasta-whose-name-I’ve-forgotten, with another linen clad lemon and some spinach. The shrimps were steaming, succulent, fabulous. The pasta was lightly dressed with parsley, olive oil and lemon but a heavy dose of black pepper  almost entirely obliterated the other flavours. I felt it could have been better.

J had the special red snapper broth on angel hair pasta. This was a masterclass in the cooking of fish. The snapper was so fresh it melted in the mouth. The broth, fragrant with tomato, garlic, fennel was delicate and absolutely divine. I was really gutted I hadn’t chosen it. Whilst waxing lyrical about this gastronomic stroke of genius our wine was topped up and checks were made on our progress. Our waiter dropped in a few Italian words to show us his skills. Service was faultless.

Clearing our plates, our waiter asked if we were ready for the best part of the meal. I assumed he meant dessert and not the bill. He went on to entice us with offers of cannoli, homemade ice cream and the eponymous tiramisu but we were spent. We basked in a post dinner glow under a string of fairy lights. The water shimmered in the moonlight. Yachts bobbed gently in the breeze. I felt contented and fulfilled. It all was terribly romantic. Then there was a crack of thunder, the heavens opened and we along with hordes of other diners ran for cover inside. Rather than dampening our spirits the downpour added a certain dramatic finale to our dinner, something Luciano’s does well.

Humidor Churrascaria at Graycliff

Humidor Churrascaria 

The Churrascaria is a Brazilian ‘Rodizio’ steak house  adjacent to the historic Graycliff hotel. It had been on mine and the Juggernaut’s list of places to investigate for a while, but for one reason or another, we had never quite made it there. It is not widely regarded as one of the dining hotspots in Nassau and therefore it was a bit of a mystery. Aware that there would be an unlimited amount of meat on offer,  a friend had advised me that the key to the barbeque meat fest was to pace yourself, as the best cuts come to those who wait. J and I were both keen to embark upon this feat of carnivorous endurance. I reminisced fondly of Sunday lunches when Dad would typically barbeque half a cow for our family of five. We asked a couple of virgin Churrascaria diners to join us for the  occasion.

We entered through an intriguing gateway cut into the rocks, which led up some steps to the restaurant.  Strangely devoid of diners when we walked in just after eight, the empty room was a slightly worrying sign. The room was full of dark wooden furniture, tribal masks and granny fabrics. A cheery waiter welcomed us with the offer of some caipirinhas. Why not indeed. Several sips of this unbelievably strong concoction and I was floating down the Amazon.

After we had polished off our drinks, we were led, half cut, to the dining area. There were a couple of other tables dining in the slightly depressing room, which had a funereal air  about it with it’s cold lighting and fake wall hung flowers. Salsa music lent a buoyant veneer to the austere surroundings. There was no menu. The waiter explained that we would be brought a series of grilled meats until we were satisfied and to signal when we’d had enough. It was quite refreshing not to have to make a decision. We were encouraged to help ourselves to the salad bar before the meat procession could commence. We ordered some Argentinian malbec .The wine glasses were enormous and balloon like, which was a good touch, as our wine was fairly modest. The table was laid with cutlery that meant business; weighty steak knives and tongs. The exuberant salad bar looked like  a photoshoot from an eighties cruise ship. The buffet had an island with a canopy on it in the centre and included labelled platters of devilled eggs, fanned out displays of cold meats and prawns, hearts of palm, bean salads, smoked salmon and every salad imaginable really. There were scallop edged salad servers and garnishes at every opportunity. Vegetarians were well catered for here. We all took a heaped plate back to our table.

The salads were actually rather delicious. The boys were worried about filling up on anything other than meat. The first delivery was some beef brisket on a skewer. It was sliced beside each person to pluck with their little tongs. Tasty, well seasoned and pink in the middle. So far so good. The next round was over faster than you could say ‘Rio de Janeiro’. It was just a torrent of meat coming at us thick and fast. Chicken wrapped in bacon, pork loin, sausages and  leg of lamb. Proper horseradish sauce and mustards were brought over at our request, as was mint jelly. Bright green and radioactive looking, I decided to give this a miss At one point we were offered some respite, some grilled pineapple to cleanse the palate, I was initially dismissive but it really did work wonders to refresh us and open up the stomach for further expansion. Filet mignon and Kobe beef were the stars of the show. My mouth is watering just remembering these fabulous hunks of beef. My girlfriend and I finally signalled that we’d had enough .The Juggernaut, (whose salad plate was almost untouched )and his wing man beckoned the waiter over for further helpings of Filet Mignon. We were very happy campers.

By the time we’d finished eating were nearing the end, we were the only table left in the restaurant. I wondered why more people weren’t eating here. Granted, it isn’t the most beautiful and fashionable restaurant in Nassau by any means. This place is crying out for a makeover. However, this was some of the best meat I’ve had on the island. The service was attentive. I asked for a doggy bag of scraps and was presents with a huge lamb bone parcel, packed with little chunks of unwanted meat. My potcake would feast on this for days. We asked for our bill, which came in $159.80 for food for four, plus $158 for drinks. All you can eat offers are usually something I stay well away from but this was great food at a reasonable price.