Until last week, I didn't think I had ever been to a lounge. But the word “lounge” in 2025 evokes a different image than the one from my youth. A “lounge” back then was interchangeable with a “barroom,” a term I never hear now. Both of these words make me think of old guys in muscle shirts gathering in a dark utilitarian space with booze and cigars, or at the very least, cigarettes.The Lounge of 2025 is entirely different. Handsome spaces with light, or at least more light, patrons that are younger and not smoking, and drinking glamorous cocktails. And they are eating gourmet “snacks,” a totally foreign concept in yesteryear.
My first visit to Avegno shattered all previous mental images of a lounge. Avegno is the new concept in a space I call Gautreau’s-adjacent. It bears no resemblance to its more famous neighbor, but they are connected by a mutual wall, and more importantly, in the kitchen. Since acquiring the restaurant a few years ago, Chef Rob Mistry has done a wonderful job maintaining the high standards that are a Gautreau’s trademark.
Both places have the feel of a neighborhood hangout. I always feel like an outsider at Gautreau’s, not because I’m made to feel that way but it seems that everyone there knows everyone there. A frequent sight at Gautreau’s is the sharing of great wine from one table to another. Avegno seems more cocktail-centric so I didn’t see that, though everyone still knew everyone. This made for a fun vibe, and the wait staff was accommodating and helpful in guiding us through the menu. The menu is not a real menu in the way that diners have come to understand. It is a way of snacking to pair with cocktails. It used to be that wine was paired with food. Now snacks are paired with cocktails. I feel so old.
But it was hard not to get into the spirit at Avegno. It is a most inviting space, glamorously done and light-filled. One of my companions had a generous pour of a great wine, and the other had a fun cocktail called the Confederacy of Punches.
I had lunch earlier that day at St. James Cheese Co., so I was not as enthusiastic about all the cheese options on the menu, here called “Bites.” There was fondue, which I rarely see, and another cheese plate, and this menu of “Bites” was far more interesting than most other similar “Snacks” and “Shareables” out there.
We ordered onion soup and the cheese plate but not the fondue, and a French Dip sandwich and a Jambon de Paris sandwich. And two snacks.
I was especially interested in the snacks because I love cheese straws and I have never had sorghum. The cheese straws were weird. They were more red than orange and a strange taste popped out on the first bite. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Finally I realized it was cumin and someone else at the table said curry. It made sense since Rob Mistry has Indian heritage. I asked the waitress to confirm our suspicions, but she told us that it was only paprika. We shook our heads in united disagreement.
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The sorghum was interesting. It looked like popcorn and tasted like popcorn, but it was smaller and less clearly-formed kernels. This is definitely a suitable alternative to popcorn, but does there need to be? Popcorn is a healthy snack. I expect to see more sorghum out there, but I’ll stick with popcorn. Sorghum is an ancient grain eaten by people in developing countries. I’ve had my fun with it.
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The onion soup came next. It was a polished version of onion soup. Made with an intense veal stock, this is a luscious version of the French classic. On top of the melted cheese (which was slightly submerged ) was a pile of crispy leeks making it a little hard to eat it. Digging under the leeks and cheese to get to the soup was required. But underneath was a rich almost demi soup with plenty of soft onions. Among the best I’ve had, and worth the effort to eat it.
Both the French Dip sandwich and the Jambon de Paris sandwich were simple and delicious. The sourdough baguette was dense and chewy, toasted just right on top. Inside the short rib debris was plentiful and salty, which means delicious. I always note when I taste salt because even though I love it, salt-sensitive people will not. This was a great sandwich, and the dip was divinely intense.
The ham sandwich with butter was simple and wonderful too. Both of these sandwiches came with housecut potato chips dusted in Creole seasoning. They were kettle chips with a lot of crunch, and were maybe a tad greasy. The Dijon mustard that came with this was a nice touch, as were the cornichons.
The cheese plate was basic, with a selection of mainstream cheeses like Brie and Bleu cheese, as well as very thin and bare crostini, along with pickled vegetables and some preserves. This was an adequate but pretty ordinary cheese plate.
We left Avegno thrilled to have found a place really pleasant to gather, despite limitations on food. I was the only non-drinker in the party so my friends were pleased with the libations as well. In a shocking twist, a return visit changed everything. It has never happened to me before that in just a week’s time I could have completely different experiences in the same place.
I wanted to try the macaroni and cheese, called by its fancy name "gratin” here. They had just pulled it from the menu for the summer. I also wanted to try the black truffle dip, which we got. And since we chose the cheese plate rather than the fondue last time, I ordered the fondue this round. My companion got the onion soup.
The onion soup was appreciated this time as much as last. Rich and decadent, this will be a stalwart signature item here, and likely its most popular dish. As it should be. It is a terrific version of the French classic.
The black truffle dip was very different from what I imagined, but that is on me. I never fully read descriptions on a menu, and even though it gets me in trouble all the time, I never seem to learn. I’m not stupid enough to think a black truffle dip would be comprised of only black truffles, but I expected more of a mushroom dip with a smattering of the king of mushrooms. What came to the table was a sour cream onion dip with paper thin slices of black truffle alongside a pile of housemade chips, more bare crostini, and the trendy soda cracker amped up with oil and spices.
We were done after two bites of this, though I did collect the truffle just to feel better about not wasting a premium ingredient like this.
It did state very clearly on the menu that it was onion dip with “summer truffle,” One of these days I’m going to remember all the mishaps caused by my not reading through a menu, and I will start reading through the menu. I hope.
A large pot of fondue arrived next, with the most uninteresting plate of dippers. Pieces of pickles, little broccoli florist still wet, and small bites of the baguette used for the sandwiches. I love this bread toasted but it was spongy and cold. The cheese sauce was thick and creamy with a strong flavor of wine. I don’t eat a lot of fondue, so maybe that is expected, but I didn’t care for this at all.
We didn’t get much of anything so we added a dessert, selecting the chocolate mousse. This was shocking. It was not a mistake in reading the menu, and not a lack of familiarity of what chocolate mousse is. What was delivered to our table was a room temperature bowl of chocolate buttercream. We looked at each other and said in unison different things: I called it buttercream, and he said cake icing. HUH??? There was a touch of coarse salt to make it even worse.
In all the time I have been around the food scene, now 38 years, I have never been to a place and had such a stunning dichotomy of experiences. Never.
I would still recommend the place, because it is lovely, quiet, and secluded. The wait staff is great and the drinks are satisfying to drinkers. It’s me trying to make the place more than it is intended to be. What it is intended to be is a first-class version of the new reality: a hangout for friends with great drinks and snacks. In other words...a lounge.
