Tuesday, December 15, 2015.
Long Time Since Last Coquette.
The day begins with news that the PT Cruiser is back in action. The guys at Covington Automotive found that what I suspected was a bad timing belt (well into four figures to repair) was in fact the breakdown of a sensor on the cam shaft for only two C-notes.
I leave the radio station in the dark and head up Magazine Street, looking for dinner. I see that Coquette is less than full, and has a legal parking space right in front. That part of Magazine Street sports so many restaurants that parking is a major consideration.
I haven't been to Coquette since I brought Mary Leigh there for dinner during her Tulane days--three years ago, at least. I was a fan of the restaurant in its first year of business, but became less enchanted with it as it settled into a groove that seemed less ambitious. On the other hand, the prices moderated, and the regular customer base grew.
[caption id="attachment_50009" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Sunchoke soup.[/caption]
The culinary thoughts of chef-owner Michael Stoltzfus have always been quite creative. This night his menu is riddled with unique platters. The first is a thick, creamy soup made with sunchokes--a relative of sunflowers, their roots resembling in flavor the unrelated standard artichoke. The viscosity of the liquid part of this made for small volume, but it worked.
[caption id="attachment_50008" align="alignnone" width="480"]
"Grand aioli" board at Coquette.[/caption]
Next, the "grand aioli." I guessed that this was a variety of vegetables and proteins with a cup of aioli (spicy, garlicky mayonnaise) for dipping. That's what I expected and what I got, except that there was enough here to split among four people. The board held some ham, several vegetables, and croquettes of smoked catfish. Good and very filling for one guy.
[caption id="attachment_50007" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Fried oysters with sweetbreads.[/caption]
Now another board comes out topped with a half-dozen fried oysters resting on sweetbreads and some savory vegetables. This has a light body, in contrast with all that has come before.
Coquette's menu is divided into small plates, plates for sharing, large plates, and. . . well, I never could quite get my head around this trendy way of presenting the kitchen's goods of the day. It doesn't really match the way I eat, but that may be true about everything and everybody.
One part of the menu intrigues me: a $70, a five-course blind tasting menu. Blind? I guess they don't tell you what's coming. That would be one way to adjust a consistent oddity of Coquette's menu. It never seems to have enough variety for me. I keep thinking there must be another couple of items here somewhere, but no. Nor did the server let on about any specials. (I don't think there are any, other than perhaps the blind tasting. It's not a disastrous problem, but I can't help thinking that even one more dish would make the place more appealing.
[caption id="attachment_50006" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Satsuma Creamsicle @ Coquette.[/caption]
Dessert here may be the lightest thing I've ever have eaten as a course. It's a frothy semi-sorbet of satsumas, sprinkled with black sesame seeds (?) and streaked with a gastrique (??). It is gone in a flash, and I think I liked it.
Coquette. Garden District: 2800 Magazine St. 504-265-0421.
I haven't been to Coquette since I brought Mary Leigh there for dinner during her Tulane days--three years ago, at least. I was a fan of the restaurant in its first year of business, but became less enchanted with it as it settled into a groove that seemed less ambitious. On the other hand, the prices moderated, and the regular customer base grew.
[caption id="attachment_50009" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Sunchoke soup.[/caption]
The culinary thoughts of chef-owner Michael Stoltzfus have always been quite creative. This night his menu is riddled with unique platters. The first is a thick, creamy soup made with sunchokes--a relative of sunflowers, their roots resembling in flavor the unrelated standard artichoke. The viscosity of the liquid part of this made for small volume, but it worked.
[caption id="attachment_50008" align="alignnone" width="480"]
"Grand aioli" board at Coquette.[/caption]
Next, the "grand aioli." I guessed that this was a variety of vegetables and proteins with a cup of aioli (spicy, garlicky mayonnaise) for dipping. That's what I expected and what I got, except that there was enough here to split among four people. The board held some ham, several vegetables, and croquettes of smoked catfish. Good and very filling for one guy.
[caption id="attachment_50007" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Fried oysters with sweetbreads.[/caption]
Now another board comes out topped with a half-dozen fried oysters resting on sweetbreads and some savory vegetables. This has a light body, in contrast with all that has come before.
Coquette's menu is divided into small plates, plates for sharing, large plates, and. . . well, I never could quite get my head around this trendy way of presenting the kitchen's goods of the day. It doesn't really match the way I eat, but that may be true about everything and everybody.
One part of the menu intrigues me: a $70, a five-course blind tasting menu. Blind? I guess they don't tell you what's coming. That would be one way to adjust a consistent oddity of Coquette's menu. It never seems to have enough variety for me. I keep thinking there must be another couple of items here somewhere, but no. Nor did the server let on about any specials. (I don't think there are any, other than perhaps the blind tasting. It's not a disastrous problem, but I can't help thinking that even one more dish would make the place more appealing.
[caption id="attachment_50006" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Satsuma Creamsicle @ Coquette.[/caption]
Dessert here may be the lightest thing I've ever have eaten as a course. It's a frothy semi-sorbet of satsumas, sprinkled with black sesame seeds (?) and streaked with a gastrique (??). It is gone in a flash, and I think I liked it.
