Is it jaded South Beach or the market in general that dictates new restaurants need a gimmick more than good food to survive? Is it really that hard to get food lovers to notice a new spot?
Tantra had me wondering and, after a few visits and an exhausted expense account, I decided that for some South Beach restaurants, and this one in particular, the food, however good it may be, is incidental to the nightlife.
Tantra was created in part by super chef Michelle Bernstein who, shortly after it opened, moved on to the Strand, where she is not only chef but part-owner. The kitchen is now overseen by Willis Loughhead, a young chef with a magical touch first displayed at Palm Grill in Key West, then at the new Palm Grill in Aventura. He’ll need all his magic to get recognized at Tantra, where the emphasis on food is secondary at best.
Tantra is, first and foremost, a club. It is appealing in an over-the-top sort of way, with decor that combines harem chic and a retro-raj concept that includes Indian films being silently screened above the bar that forms the back of the main dining room. The films are the only thing silent about Tantra. Once diners make their way through a choking curtain of incense at the front door (careful with the heels, that’s a live grass floor in the lobby), welcome to the sensual experience of Tantra, where intimacy is measured in decibels.
While the decor is vaguely Indian in design, the menu, based on Bernstein’s original plan with several amendments by Loughhead, is more global in nature. Underscoring the studied sensuality of the club’s concept, the menu focuses on ingredients purported to have amorous properties.
Casanova’s favorite, foie gras, is seared and served on a plantain cake with an aromatic mango and pineapple chutney and a bit of bitter chocolate mole ($20) for an exotic combination of spice and silky richness that teeters on the edge of overkill. Rabbit ($18) is appropriately offered in a pair of items on one plate: a pan-seared loin and a grilled rabbit sausage with asparagus ($18) scented with fresh lavender (yet another amorous herb).
The best starter is a napoleon that layers chilled lobster with thinly sliced mango and avocado and a vinaigrette with a splash of truffle oil ($20). It is a symphony of texture and flavor that works exceedingly well. On one visit, I particularly enjoyed a simple dish in a stunning presentation: a goblet packed with a bouquet of pencil thin, slightly cooked asparagus with a spicy salsa ($12). Another starter as stunning to the eye as the palate coupled a hefty langoustine with sweet and tender, barely cooked scallops and arugula ($18).
Main courses include a nice piece of bass, a thick fillet of Chilean sea bass that turns out overly gelatinous at many restaurants but here was delightfully firm and married perfectly with sauteed leeks and fennel ($38). A lightly spiced seafood stew had both Asian and Caribbean overtones, with subtle cilantro, coconut, curry and lime flavors, and the seafood — lobster, scallops, shellfish and more — were perfectly cooked ($38).
Yellowtail snapper with clams and shrimp is paired with a fruity mango and papaya ($32), a slab of beef tenderloin is paired not only with mixed mushrooms but a delicate goat cheese beurre blanc ($44), and truffles make their inevitable appearance in a classic French match: with roast chicken and chanterelle mushrooms ($36). My favorite among the meat dishes is an Indian-spiced rack of lamb ($38), and the most disappointing dish was a bland, overly dry and seriously misnamed vegetable tagine that had too much couscous and not nearly enough flavor ($26).
The wine list at Tantra matches the pricing of the menu in being seriously inflated, an indignity for the diner underscored by serving the wine in the clumsiest of discount glassware. How a restaurant with such an eye for decor could go cheap on glasses is a mystery.
After an evening of Tantric excess, the $12 parking charge seems almost a pittance by comparison, and may well be worth it to diners who want to sit where Wesley, Cameron, Whitney, Courtney and Leonardo have placed their celebrity derrieres.
On the street, where the incense fades and hearing returns, the experience may seem a little dreamlike. I discovered I wasn’t so much marveling over Loughhead’s clever way with mango and foie gras as remembering the astronomical prices with disbelief. It’s the restaurant of the moment, but moments fade, and when this one does, I’ll anxiously seek out Loughhead’s next post, where he may actually be back on center stage where he belongs, and where I can afford him.
M.L. Warren is a pseudonym to protect our dining critic’s anonymity. Please phone in advance to confirm information on hours, prices, menu items and facilities.
