Caribbean Cuisine and Island Energy: Kabawa Drums Up a New Rhythm in Fine Dining
The Caribbean, with its rich food, music and culture, is a destination that offers a tranquil escape to those who visit. Thanks to Barbados-born executive chef Paul Carmichael, who opened Kabawa in the East Village on March 25, people can discover a taste of the island’s energy in New York—at least for an evening, and as long as you have $145 per person to spare. At Momofuku’s first new concept since 2019, Carmichael creates a sanctuary for exquisite Caribbean fare—striking a unique balance between fine dining and casually stopping by a Bajan neighbor’s house.
Tucked away in a pocket-sized alley, Kabawa feels like a respite from the commuters trampling down East 1st Street before I even walk inside. Combined with its sister spot, Bar Kabawa, which debuted February 6, Kabawa takes up two-thirds of the property on Extra Place. The bar and restaurant operate as two individual spaces—one for daiquiris, wine and light bites with lively soca, calypso and reggae beats; the other for a three-course prix-fixe dinner over Caribbean instrumentals. Each has its own entrance with a small connecting corridor in the back. Both open at 5:30 pm Tuesday through Saturday, and both pulse to playlists personally orchestrated by Carmichael. Because what’s a personal passion project without a good mixed tape?
Inside the lively, dim-lit restaurant, every tie-dye-clad server, host and chef possesses a general demeanor of “we’re over the moon to have you.” With only a handful of sit-down tables at the entrance, the one-room space is mostly chef’s table seating at a large, three-sided wooden bar with colorful hand-painted ceilings that surround the open kitchen. There, Carmichael dips from station to station, tasting sauces and salting the chuletas cut from a four-foot-tall pork loin hanging in the refrigerated glass wall of fish, duck sausage and mixed plateware in the rear of the restaurant.
A Bajan mosaic lines one wall, while the two bathrooms transport patrons to Barbados with the island’s typical blue-and-white doors, their own sound system and decor. One creates a jungle oasis, wallpapered with parrots and plantlife as a natural soundtrack of birds and insects chirps over the speaker. The other is like entering an auntie’s home with dated floral wallpaper, an out-of-focus family photo and tracks alternating between Gospel music and politically-charged speeches.
Beyond its elaborate washrooms, what makes Kabawa (and Carmichael, in particular) stand out is that it immerses guests in the rhythm of Caribbean fine dining—a symphony of scents, sounds and action—without taking itself too seriously. Despite it being the second night of opening, an infamously chaotic point for any restaurateur, Carmichael maintains his cool and a sense of humor.
“That’s just me,” Carmichael tells Observer, standing between line chefs finely chopping chives and drizzling citrus emulsion on the sweet potato side not listed on the menu. As most seats fill up, Carmichael jests with guests as they dine and staff as they cook, serve and engage with customers.
Carmichael recently returned to New York from Australia to open Kabawa and help oversee worldwide restaurant operations for Momofuko, David Chang’s restaurant empire. From 2015 until its closure in 2021, Carmichael helmed one of Momofuku’s prominent destinations, Momofuku Seiobo, in Sydney.
Kabawa’s prix-fixe menu ($145 per person, with an option for the sommelier-led, six-pour wine pairing for an additional $145), offers one choice each from six starters, seven entrées and four desserts. Carmichael doesn’t have a favorite yet, but it doesn’t matter—everything looks good. The server, subbing in from the sommelier team, provides clear insights into the ingredients and their relevant place in island history; the curry sauce with the black bass, for example, draws from indentured Indian servants living in Barbados.
Instead of an amuse bouche, Carmichael’s format opts for homemade roti served with four dips on tiered stoneware that include beautifully curried chickpeas, a smoked and spicy eggplant sauce, butter with fruit jelly and salt and a pumpkin-kombucha dip with crispy onions. It’s an eat-with-your-hands situation, and I do so willingly and with gusto until each bowl is empty.
For the first course, I try the breadfruit tostón, a homemade cracker made from a starchy fruit found in the Caribbean. Topped with fresh octopus, a dog sauce of scotch bonnet pepper, scallion and herbs and briny capers, it’s the perfect vessel—still warm, salty and ever-so-slightly chewy. The mushroom pastel is earthy comfort food inspired by Spanish-Caribbean fare. The banana is a smooth paste, more savory than sweet, that takes a rectangular form steamed in banana leaf, surrounded by mixed wild mushrooms and picadillo.
For the second course, the goat confit with spicy scallop creole and fried bay leaves is unforgettable. The meat is slow-cooked in its own fat and juices for three-and-a-half hours, so each forkful shreds and melts into a luscious sauce layered with deep, hot spices—forward at first, but gradually more restrained as the palate acclimates. The dish pairs easily with red or white, and the 2023 Wolf and Woman chenin blanc from South Africa is the perfect sip to carry me through all three courses, balancing varying levels of the tropic heat with complexity: stony, citrusy and dry.
The desserts remain true to the islands: a matrimony of citrus fruits and condensed milk; sorbet of the day (Wednesday is bay leaf); flan and a coconut turnover for two (easily for four). The turnover is a loaf served straight from the oven with a milky sweet dough, crumbly swirl and cream cheese frosting. It cools by the minute, firming the edges with more caramelization and intensifying the heavenly exhale I utter after each bite.
While the turnover was so good I ate the leftovers for breakfast, what I’d return to Kabawa for isn’t just the food or fun vibe—it’s the ethos Carmichael and his team pour into all they do: a feeling of home.