Patois, Part Two

The Social Chairman's fiancee moved to New Orleans recently and has graciously agreed to become the PR Director for the blog. Which brings our staff to 4; only one person less than the total number of readers we get on a daily basis. To celebrate, the Social Chair, the PR Director, Lindsay and I all went to Patois.

We arrived to a packed house at 7:45; luckily we had a reservation. We sat down and ordered some drinks. The Pau Boy Pierre is a slightly Vietnamese-influenced version of the Pimm's Cup. A Pinot Noir for the PR Director and a Lillet Rouge for I and we set about the task of ordering.

Lindsay and PR Director played it light on the first course, a wise decision. A plate of tuna carpaccio arrived. Interesting, a more fashionable and welcome take on Tuna Tartare, but a good, clean flavored dish; maybe a little bland. But fresh bright pink tuna needs little more than a splash of olive oil and a squeeze of citrus. A market salad with sunflower seeds and hearts of palm, which was running as a special, displayed the bounty of late summer/early fall.

Social Chair got the gnocchi with bacon, cream, black pepper, and crabmeat. This dish really displays the classical roots of this restaurant. Tender, soft gnocchi are married to sweet, succulent gems of crabmeat with the creamy, salty sauce acting as the minister. Great dish, always on the menu with slight variations.

I got the pork belly salad which showcases the kitchen's creative takes on classical preparations. This salad is nothing more than a Lyon Salad; but here it is slightly retooled. Pork belly, a fried egg, frisee, a light sherry vinagrette, and some charred bread in a really beautiful plating. Simple, yet more elegant without becoming stuffy. The dish succeeds not only on the flavors, but also the contrast of hot and cold elements. The execution of this choid-froid dish gives a diner slight feelings of schadenfreude towards other diners who ordered something else.

Lindsay got the mussels in a smoky tomato broth with pommes frites as an entree. The mussels were a little sandy and the fries a little soggy. Which reminded me of being on the beach in a rain storm. PR Director got the cumin-scented seared tuna; sliced on the plate the tuna had a perfect ring of cooked tuna encapsulating a rare interior. Social Chair, ecstatic about living near the sea again, went for a wild caught speckled trout over haricots verts. His temptation to pass around his dish lost to his desire to eat every last bite.

I went with the braised short ribs, despite Lindsay's helpful reminder that I had previously said I would not order braised things in restaurants because they are not as good as the same dish cooked at home. She was, as usual, right. I was offered a steak knife from our very helpful waiter, but told "You wont need it."

Well, I kind of did. The fat of the meat had not sufficiently melted away, which resulted in a tougher finished product. The pasta rags and purple peas served were very bland and needed more salt. But perhaps the biggest problem was the different textures and shapes of items on the plate-the round peas, long, flat strands of pasta, and chunky meat-made it almost impossible to get a complete bite on the fork.

Desserts were wonderful and playful: a banana cream pie and some amaretti zeppolis with a Grand Marnier dipping sauce. The zeppolis arrive in a paper cone taking the diner out of the restaurant and putting them back at a county fair.

Service is truly top notch. Always willing to lend a hand with a menu suggestion or wine pairing, the wait staff is extremely knowledgeable not only about the offerings. But they also seem to be keyed into a similar philosophy, which to me appears to be, "together we can make this a great place." Its getting there if it is not already.

Birdie-Par.