11 Best Restaurants in St. Kitts and Nevis

Focusing on Caribbean flavors with heavy influences from Africa, the Middle East, and a bit of Italy, this spot is situated in a courtyard surrounded by a lush tropical garden. Begin with tapas-style dishes like the seafood au gratin and wild mushroom tartelette shine, before moving on to exciting entrées like the fire-grilled local lobster seasoned with star anise and cinnamon, served with saffron rice and lobster butter sauce.

This sophisticated beach bar at the Four Seasons is a perennial hot spot thanks, in part, to an outdoor deck overlooking the illuminated water and a farm- and sea-to-table menu (half of which is gluten free) showcasing local ingredients—many grown by the staff. Dishes might include cornmeal-dusted soft shell crab over curried black beans and shishito peppers in coriander-lime sour cream, slow-roasted goat tamale, lobster fritters with lime aioli, or mango-Myer's rum baby back ribs.

The Hoffman family presides over a scintillating evening: canapés and cocktails in the Montpelier plantation's great room, followed by dinner on the breezy west verandah above the lights of Charlestown. Executive chef Halva Brown uses produce from the inn's organic herb gardens and fruit trees to full advantage on the changing three-course menu, which might start with melt-in-your-mouth tuna tartare or pork belly with curry and apple chutney; segue into gossamer wahoo with artichoke, carrots, and pickled onions in fennel-turmeric sauce; and end with decadent desserts like lemon tart with milk chocolate corn flakes and strawberry coulis. Wines on the exemplary list pair perfectly with the cuisine, and infused rums make the perfect finish. You can take a taste home with you: M Boutique sells homemade jams and sauces.

This stylish restaurant occupies an old Creole home whose charming enclosed patio offers lovely views of Basseterre and the bay. The interior lounge is even more conducive to romantic dining—with cushy sofas, patterned hardwood floors, porcelain lamps, and African carvings—and the ambitious menu reflects co-owner-chef Alexander James's peripatetic postings: crispy fried Brie, spring rolls with plum dipping sauce, mahimahi with a cheese-and-basil crust, teriyaki-glazed tiger shrimp.

The cuisine at this beachfront beauty references the Caribbean's melting pot of African, French, English, Iberian, Asian, and Dutch influences. But the kitchen and barefoot-chic bar, which is open daily and serves light snacks, also adopt a locavore philosophy, sourcing as much as possible from Kittitian farmers and fishermen (who might troop through the restaurant with 30 just-caught snapper). Hibiscus lovers enjoy the spirits made on-site with local sorrel found throughout the drink menu. Lunch is considerably cheaper and more island-flavored, albeit often overrun by cruise ship passengers.

Imagine a semi-alfresco cathedral of raw limestone coral overlooking a sandy, palm-fringed crescent: that's this ritzy Christophe Harbour beach club (open to nonmembers for dinner only), whose soaring interior contrasts a curved exhibition kitchen, streamlined bar stools, and abstract pendant lamps with sea fans and driftwood, antique settees, and 19th-century black-and-white photos of island scenes. The kitchen similarly combines tradition with innovation, juxtaposing textures, flavors, and colors so that even "traditional" fare like conch fritters is goosed with pickled ginger, passion-fruit coulis, and swirls of jerk mayo. The wine list features some surprising bargains, especially among white varietals, and you can finish your meal in style with one of a dozen aged rums.

At this ultra-stylish restaurant, which unfurls sensuously down South Friar's Bay, more casual lunches take full advantage of the beachfront setting, with white tents and hedonistic beach beds (often overflowing with cruise ship passengers). But nighttime is truly spectacular, as outdoor fiber-optic fountains enhance the visual flair of the vast, sleek-but-not-slick interior, replete with eat-in wine cellar and tile-and-layered-wood sushi bar. Sterling starters include the creative maki rolls. Seafood such as herb-marinated grouper in caper cream is masterfully executed; nothing at Carambola is overcooked. The sole letdown is the wine list. Although it's the island's largest, it lacks imagination; however, the by-the-glass selections are at least reasonably priced.

The interior of the greathouse is blissfully air-conditioned and tastefully decorated with equestrian bronzes; antique hurricane lamps; works by famed Nevisian artist Eva Wilkin; and wicker, mahogany, or cherry-wood furnishings. Local ingredients are used as much as possible, and although a more mature clientele dictates menus of straightforward Eisenhower-era options (from house-cured gravlax to filet mignon), longtime executive chef Antonio "Tony" Piani might sneak in a conch-breadfuit-and-dumpling soup or a stuffed lobster.

This glam eatery's tiered garden is a masterpiece: glass panels and ceilings display the night sky while reflecting patio lights; silvery waterfalls, pools, and fountains filigree the grounds; strategically placed boulders resemble hulking Henry Moore sculptures; and flowers as well as fire-engine-red directors' chairs and a tarp add pops of color. Contemporary and colonial artworks from Mali and Afghanistan grace the interior, where the kitchen doesn't always match the setting's creativity; still the jerk pork, pan-roasted snapper, or justly celebrated conch chowder (perfectly chunky with a touch of heat offsetting the creamy base) are solid choices.