First, the confession. I was not in a rush to get here. For selfish reasons I enjoy discovering new places on the island, and make an effort to visit them as soon as I can. Some (Caravel) work better than others (Fresh Catch, Kalooki’s). When we like a new place, we get this sense of accomplishment that fixes just about everything.. rashes, frontal baldness, etc. The weather may suck but at least you are eating well, and unless they shutter for not being on the beach, you will eat well next time as well. Crackpot was the exception, as I tried to avoid it for as long as I could. “Unassuming” was just not the word one could describe this one after coming out of the gate rather strong. Reports of Chef Nick indulging elsewhere just weeks after the opening added to the confusion, and intrigue at the same time.
Fast forward a year later (commercials included), chef Nik and company, not only weathered the storm, but managed to survive at what I call the closest middle of nowhere location in the world. Taking over the former Lemon space, Crackpot is in the middle of a large abandoned development one needs to drive into even though its walking distance from some of the resorts. And to get there, one needs to maneuver between a series of potholes, a can of coke, and three cats carrying a wounded cat on a stretcher. Not much changed decor wise since the previous tenant left (after a nasty split, but that’s for another blog. Divorce Courting With Ziggy?).
Servers, efficient, albeit acting as if they just graduated from server academy. Nick, the famous son of Smoky, and local cooking show personality stopped by apologizing for his attire, although it was way too dark to even see what he was wearing. I apologized for my attire as well and we moved on. The place overall felt as if Coco Bistro and Flamingo’s hooked up, got drunk and produced a crack baby. But food wise, everything worked for the most part
The conch salad was a little different than the norm. On the zestier, fruitier side of things, with bits of pineapple, and melon finely intermingled among the usual conch salad suspects. Not bad at all. The lobster salad was of the cooked variety, essentially a crab salad gone wild. Conch fritters were more like conch kebabs, skewered, surprisingly delicious even while lacking that outside crisp. The ribs here were quite wet and with good flavor. More sauce on side (for the Stern fans) was totally unnecessary. Not sure where they rank on the island but somewhere behind Chinson’s and Caicos Cafe’s version I suppose.
Got my Goat fix here and I must say this was a good goat curry. Minimal dryness, and quite addictive, although this blogger is a bit more obsessed with Goat curry than the next guy. They also have a good looking Oxtail cooked with Guinness. The one glaring fail of the evening was the Grilled Lobster. A dry, overcooked mess with stuffing, and other various concoctions on the side that didn’t work.
Eating With Ziggy 