A new restaurant opened in the last few months that has been getting a bit of buzz around town. It caught my attention because Tom used to often reference a junebug, usually in a joke, and I remember it. There is nothing wrong with a junebug, and I don’t remember the details of the reference, but Junebug immediately popped out of the crowd of new restaurants because of that connection. At least to me.
When I arrived at Junebug I had another connection triggered by a pleasant memory. It is located in the Warehouse District in a space that was a restaurant called Dougs’s, where we had an Eat Club Dinner and a birthday party for Clark the Gourmet truck driver, one of the many colorful characters that have been part of The Food Show through its 37 years,
The place is arresting. It’s a very old building with beams that are huge and constructed as they were way back in the day. These beams are a focal point of the place. Doug’s was a short-lived steak restaurant that I miss, owned by a businessman-turned-restaurateur. I wish he had beaten the odds because I really liked his steakhouse. We went more than once, but the Clark birthday party remains my fondest memory. This was back in the early to mid 1990s because the kids were little. It was in my birthday-cake-with-wheels phase. It was a very large truck, just like Clark drove for Saia, and I was proud of my creation.
Present-day Junebug has thankfully done little to change the space. You enter through a long exposed-brick hallway to arrive at a hostess stand, and then into a large exposed brick room that is a lengthy bar which in Doug’s day included booth seating in the remainder of the cavernous space. The booths are gone, replaced by high-tops. In between these two eras the place was an office, which seems a terrible waste of intriguing surroundings.
These endless brick walls go way deep into another room and maybe end at a courtyard, but I wasn’t exploring the evening I went. Doug’s may have been hip in its day but Junebug is hip circa 2025, and that means it’s kind of dark.
Since I was alone I wanted to sit in the bar but not at the bar at one of these high tops, but I sat so long waiting for service that I moved to the actual bar on a barstool. Minutes later a bartender arrived to take my order. It seemed to be the bartender assigned to my table, but she just didn’t make it from behind the bar until I was closer.
I went to Junebug because I have to go to new places even though I don’t want to. Tom was a fierce traditionalist, and so am I, though I would define that term differently now. In his heyday things like foam were considered hip and he considered them silly. You don’t see that much anymore because it is silly, and once everyone has seen it we all move on. But I think silly food is slowly being recognized not as an anomaly but as the norm. At least in some corners. This is disappointing.
When I first looked at the menu at Junebug I laughed. The top sections offered potato chips which I assumed were housecut. (Because if they weren’t it would be not silly but ridiculous.) Other items in this section were smoked olives and bar nuts. Each of these in the “shareables” section could be purchased individually, or you could do them all for one price of a buck or two less. This didn’t even have any names like menus used to have, i.e., appetizers, entrees, dessert, soups, salads, etc. But usually now with new hip places the menu breaks into :snacks” and “shareables,” designed to encourage groups of young diners to linger over rounds of cocktails, and to nibble a bit. I wanted to eat, but I needed to eat here.
I skipped the top section even though I love all those things. The next section had more real appetizer items like duck rillettes and fried eggplant (though here it’s called schnitzel,) and snacky things like pimento cheese dip and a pickled shrimp dip. There were also two very 2025 items like the Croquettes Monsieur and a “confit” of fingerling potatoes. I am seeing the term “confit” on menus next to vegetables like potatoes, or mushrooms, or tomatoes, and the only time I have ever noticed something special about a “confitted” vegetable is in the case of a tomato. In that instance the slow-cooking definitely added richness. The rest I find annoying. Leave it to meat, I say.
From this group I got both the pimento cheese dip and the potatoes, mainly because I was curious. The rillettes would have been a better choice but I was not in the mood for rillettes. And I got the croquettes, again by process of elimination…my new way of ordering. There was a small section at the bottom of the menu. These seemed to be entree portions. Again, through elimination I ordered cornbread gnocchi with lamb neck ragu.
Everything I had was good.
The pimento cheese was billed as pecan pimento cheese, and it was a dense mass of pimento cheese with what seemed to be homemade wheat crackers. The wheat crackers didn’t make much of an impression, except that they snapped with the slightest pressure. The pressure came from the density of the pimento cheese when I tried to spread it, so much so that a piece flew in the air. Good thing I sat alone. The pimento cheese had a sharp flavor and a nice crunch from the pecans. It was a contrast that was pleasurable. And once I figured out a lighter touch with the crackers they behaved.
The next thing to arrive at the table was the Croquettes Monsieur. These came as a trio stacked over a puddle of Honey Mustard sauce. Each of these was perfectly fried with a light dusting of breadcrumbs. They were greaseless, fat, and round with a filling of soft mashed potatoes flecked with smoked ham and cheese. More interesting contrast here with mashed potatoes and the fried breadcrumbs in the crispy crust, though the cheese inside and the “smoky” ham didn’t make much of a flavor impression.
I regretted the potatoes as soon as they were placed in front of me. As I said I got them by default and chunks of fingerling potatoes as a dish and an app had better be special. These potato pieces were nestled in a blue cheese sauce and drizzled with Salsa Brava, but the predominant taste came from the many torn sprigs of dill. It looked like a dill forest on top. I like dill, a lot, but it should definitely be a back-bencher. A hint of dill, like rosemary and mint, goes a long way.
Since I wasn't crazy about this dish, I asked about the French fries. If they were housecutting chips, surely the fries woud be cut in house too, right? I was assured they were so I ordered the fries from the bottom of the menu. They came with somethigg called Comeback sauce. These were fine but nothing more. Slightly limp and not totally greaseless, they get points only for the ambition.
The next dish I got had more torn fresh herbs, and it was one of the reasons I got it. In America, we’re only starting to use mint in savory dishes, a practice well known around the Mediterranean. Until recently mint’s use in America has been relegated to chocolate ice cream, iced tea and cocktails, most notably the Mint Julep.
At Junebug it was part of an entree that intrigued me for a few other reasons. The dish was cornbread gnocchi, and I had to read it twice to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. Cornbread gnocchi? How would this work? How could cornbread be contorted into a soft little dumpling-like pillow? My curiosity got the best of me. Also, I couldn’t find anything else on the menu I wanted.
The rest of the dish didn’t appeal to me much either. It was lamb neck ragu. The current fascination with necks amuses me. I remember when my brother and I used to fight over the turkey neck at Thanksgiving. After all that trouble, the winner would have to pick through the bones for any meat. The first time I saw turkey necks on a menu I laughed out loud. Huh? On the one hand I was happy that Americans were using more of the animal parts, but c’mon. The necks of various animals are still popular enough with diners to remain on menus. As Tom used to say, they can have my share.
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I have warmed a bit to lamb, but would still prefer beef. But all my reservations about this dish vanished when it arrived. It was a hearty plate of this odd gnocchi with an overlay of dense ragu replete with bits of lamb meat from the neck. Torn pieces of mint dotted the landscape.
Looking at this dish made me chuckle a bit. I marveled at how far we have come since my little Kenna self got her first glimpse of lamb. Raised on Vienna sausages and other convenience foods, lamb in reality was such a foreign concept to me I might as well have gone to the Middle East to have it. My first encounter was actually a bit closer, in North Carolina where I was a camp counselor for a summer in college. I was stunned at the exoticness of it all when I saw it in the cafeteria of a camp, served on a light green melamine plate with a dollop of mint jelly next to it. Of course I didn’t eat it, but the memory has stuck with me all these years.
In the ensuing time I have observed it move into the dining culture as other more sophisticated palates have tried it and liked it. The product itself has also changed dramatically, as the American lamb industry has improved the product with more skilled husbandry.
I remember fairly recently Tom discouraging chefs from its inclusion on Eat Club menus because it would diminish attendance. Now it is part of the menu or at least a regular special at fine dining establishments around town. I even eat it, and one of the most wonderful dishes I have recently eaten was the herb-crusted rack of lamb at The Pelican Club. In the right hands it can be divine, as this was.
The lamb neck ragu at Junebug was very good. It was rich and meaty with a subtle tomato flavor. The sauce was hefty enough to stand up to the nuggets of cornbread gnocchi, which were soft and pillowy as all gnocchi should be. This was a delightful creative clash of textures and flavors and colors that made for a really interesting dish.
It was by far the best of the things that emerged from the kitchen this evening, though everything else I had was very good too. Even the strange potato app was fine. I have no complaints about Junebug.
When I saw the website the first time, my mind immediately switched to The Gloriette here in Covington at The Southern Hotel. Both use the same spring-like whimsical backdrop, and both are very good. But the restaurants couldn’t be more different. Junebug is a hip and creative 2025 restaurant with a menu whose looks and featured items make you pause and think. The Gloriette is a white tablecloth, classically delicious menu of traditional American food that is predictable, recognizable, and hits you in the palate and tummy without first stopping in your brain.
I’m going to stick with The Gloriette and its like.
