This is the age of the chef-philosopher, and the newest professor on the local scene is Phillip Lopez, the proprietor of Root. "Cooking is a form of communication, and I want to talk to my guests through each bite they take," he says. As pretentious as that sounds, Lopez and Root actually deliver the hedonistic substance of food in a thrilling new way. Far from taking their project too seriously, Root's team seems almost playful, with ingredients and methods that remind one of a nine-year-old's kitchen experiments. (Using molecular methods to make what tastes exactly like Cocoa Puffs, for example.) Of course, it's stuff like this that attracts attention. And fires the creativity that makes the entire enterprise as good as it is.
Like Commander's Palace in the 1970s, Mr. B's in the 1980s, Emeril's in the 1990s, and August in the 2000s, Root is the current New Orleans restaurant of the future. Everything on the table makes a clean break with the past. The ingredients seem to come from a different culture. Many are manufactured (that's the perfect word for the process) on site, using techniques that were unknown in restaurant kitchens just a few years ago. The presentations are visually rich and highly original. Yet the pleasures of eating are here in full measure. All this stuff, even the weird parts, are delicious. The stories of its provenance are a stimulating bonus.
Chef Phillip Lopez was an army brat, traveling the world before entering the culinary world in the Northeast and winding up in the employ of John Besh here in New Orleans. He returned to the D.C. area after Katrina, working for a time at the celebrated Citronelle. He returned to the Besh fold, then took over as chef of the hip Spanish restaurant Rambla. Root's co-owner and dining room boss Maximilian Ortiz also came through the Besh machine. In late 2011, the pair renovated thrice-failed restaurant space (most recently Feast) in the burgeoning Restaurant Zone of the Warehouse District. Blastoff! Reservations are now essential.
The design of the restaurant is giddy, modern, and marginally comfortable. Most of the chairs are advanced patio furniture, their color and design creates the illusion of a tropical garden in what is obviously a heavily-beamed, dark, industrial space. The dining room staff is firmly plugged into the kitchen's unique projects. The servers not only explain the dishes well but give excellent guidance to help make up your mind. (Or take a plunge into something radical.) This is a late-night restaurant, the dining room not filling until after eight and still seating at eleven--two a.m. Fridays and Saturdays. Show up before six-thirty, and you can almost always get a table without a reservation.
Root's menu is divided unconventionally, and encourages plate-sharing. The three levels of starters ("Socials," "Beginnings," and "Middles,") are all bigger than the entrees ("Principals"), and a single person will find them hard to finish. That's especially true of the broad array of house-made sausages and other charcuterie. All are as deftly-made as you'll find anywhere else, and more imaginative. The boards bearing them are richly textured with a half-dozen or so garnishes, all uniquely wrought in house. Also, pay close attention to the complimentary amuse-bouche and intermezzo courses, for which the chef does his most thoughtful work. Finally, know that the entrees come closest to conventional restaurant food. In case you have a non-experimental diner with you.
| Attitude | 2 |
|---|---|
| Environment | 1 |
| Hipness | 3 |
| Local Color | 2 |
| Service | 2 |
| Value | 1 |
| Wine | 1 |
