World-celebrated chef ‘just warming up’ at 60
Jean-Georges Vongerichten brings French-Asian mastery to Bahamas beachside Dune
PARADISE ISLAND, BAHAMAS— Flatfaced, with a pair of shovel-like plates for antennae, the clawless crustacean looks almost cute, like a squished armoured manatee, when it appeared on my plate.
“Here it’s called a roach lobster; I call it rock lobster,” says chef JeanGeorges Vongerichten as he shows off the creature’s glistening lycheelike flesh. Later I discover it’s commonly known as a slipper lobster.
Sweet and succulent, the almost bouncy-crisp flesh is a heavenly foil to the aromatic curry broth it’s been finished with. It’s also an unexpected treat the Michelin-starred chef shares with my table, because it’s a rather rare specimen this fisherman, Alan Brown, tries to catch whenever Vongerichten is in town for his quarterly visits.
I’m at Dune, Vongerichten’s beachside restaurant at the heart of the Bahamas’ One&Only Ocean Club resort, which reopened in mid-February after it had been severely damaged by Hurricane Matthew, to speak with the busy chef-restaurateur about his growing empire.
Although it’s been 17 years since hotelier Sol Kerzner invited Strasbourg, France-born Vongerichten to the property, the Caribbean gem’s chic surroundings, panoramic views of the beach and Atlantic Ocean, plus refined, approachable cooking continues to draw locals and tourists.
While his non-New York restaurants, including Dune, are all licensing deals, Vongerichten and his senior team are involved with every detail, from restaurant design to menu development and staff training (both on-site and at his flagship in New York).
With roots in French cuisine and a mastery of Asian flavours (Vongerichten spent a significant amount of time in Asia), he has an enviable ability to adapt his cooking to the local scene.
“When you look at the southern hemisphere — Southeast Asia, South America, the Caribbean,” the world traveller reveals, “They’re not the same cuisine but all grow very similar ingredients. They all have ginger, chilies, coriander, pineapple, mango and coconuts.”
At Dune, the dishes take a slight Bahamian spin with subtle spice and an emphasis on the trove of local seafood, from conch to parrotfish.
I’m given homemade hot sauce made from fiery ghost pepper with my conch salad. It’s not the prebottled let’s-do-this-on-a-darebecause-we’re-crazy sort of stuff, but a finessed floral number. A microlitre is all I need to waken my senses’ senses.
It’s when I learn Vongerichten’s symbiotic relationship with local producers has raised the bar on the islands where the concept of sourcing locally had been uncommon. Instead of using imported frozen varieties, Vongerichten searched for Brown, who supplies Dune with his daily catch, after experiencing fresh grouper caught by the spearfishing free-diver.
I taste the most spectacular arugula in an opening salad tossed with cleaved hunks of mango, shaved fennel ribbons and meaty Kalamata olives. The thick leaves are super punchy but have a shockingly clean finish, and are just one of the many vegetables and herbs Holey Farm’s Maria-Theresa Kemp grows in volcanic soil in pockets of limestone for Dune. Vongerichten describes the praiseworthy produce as having “five times the flavour.”
The cookbook author says Dune’s menu, like the other members of his restaurant empire, is frequently updated (revamped sauces and techniques), but the use of local products stay constant. As do signature dishes (“people remember food memories” he notes), including sincere nods to local dishes.
A resort favourite at breakfast is a scrumptious and soul-warming fish boil, which I greedily consume with grits, Johnny cake and banana bread. Fondly known in-house as Cecile’s soup (based on a recipe from a retired Bahamian cook), regulars know Dune’s version is always full of the best quality fish (grouper, on my visit).
“Wherever we go, we bring on a knowhow, but we always see new things, pick up some flavours and new ideas. It’s a global cultural food exchange.”
With his current roster of restaurants sitting at 34, including five openings this year, retirement isn’t on Vongerichten’s mind.
“I’m just warming up,” he says, with smiling eyes. “Yeah, I’ve done a lot: I’ve been cooking since I was16, and I thought at 60 things will quiet down, but we’ve five openings this year; it’s our biggest year ever.
“I mean, (Dune) is a reopening (18 years later, we’re still standing after three hurricanes) and chance to reinvent it for the next 20 years. There’s no relaxing on the horizon. Maybe in 2035? I don’t know; we’ll see what happens. As I say: moving up.”
The next morning, I have one more breakfast at Dune. I enjoy the recommended oatmeal soufflé, but can’t stop myself from ordering another serving of the fish boil. I add two drops of the ghost pepper sauce to my soup and let every delicious morsel burn its way into my memory. Renée S. Suen was a guest of One&Only Ocean Club, which did not review or approve this story.