Brunch with my mother and my best friend goes something like this:
“I’m dating the man of my dreams. We’re going to get married and have lots of babies.”
“Ugh. I can’t even think about men. Who needs them?”
“I’m in a relationship with my kitchen. It’s quite a healthy one, actually.”
We were sitting in the back of the Warehouse Bar & Grill, an Old Town restaurant right on King Street that could easily be mistaken for a tourist trap from the outside. It was just the three of us, and we were quite cozy, sipping our delicious cappuccinos in the charming restaurant, and gossiping about life, love, and real estate.
It’s funny what happens when I put my mother with my girlfriends. There is no age—they are all my closest friends, the ones I share my deepest secrets with—when we’re around a table.
Warehouse is an older (“historic,” they say) restaurant, but it’s well kept. There are white linen table cloths and mahogany accents throughout. The walls in the entrance and along the stairs to the second floor are lined with original artwork—caricatures, faces of the local gentry, some three-dimensional, in squares.
The name doesn’t do the place justice. This is not a warehouse, nor is it a bar-and-grill-type pub. At first impression, it’s a café of sorts, with a long bar connecting two dining rooms.
The service was fantastic. Our waiter was exceptionally attentive and kind. In fact, the service was so good it made us overlook the flaws in the food. He just swept us off our feet with his charm. Our coffee was refilled without asking, our plates whisked away without us even noticing. It made the brunch flow smoothly—and it’s wonderful when you don’t have any interruptions to a meal, especially when you’re in the thick of some good gossip.
With your brunch order, you get a choice of champagne with strawberries, or strawberries and cream with powdered cinnamon on top. I got the champagne, which was warm and tasted a bit like the bottle had been open for a day or two. But, even though it was no ice cold Veuve Clicquot, it was still a nice complimentary touch to the meal.
The strawberries and cream dish was so simple and refreshing. This should be served before brunch everywhere. It refreshed the palette between multiple cups of coffee and our brunch entrees. Also, they do leave a basket of bread slices on the table, but the bread is a bit tough, and the butter hard to slice into. Perhaps that’s their unintentional nod to tough French bread.
Warehouse claims it is expert in aged steaks and seafood, but really the menu showed it to be a southern Louisiana-style French restaurant. There’s everything from Po’Boys to Creole Alligator Stew to Crawfish and Shrimp Beignets.
The best part of the brunch was that the dishes came with a side of steamed vegetables—instead of the normal greasy breakfast potatoes. It was a great surprise, and we ladies felt slightly more healthy because of it. The eggs Benny was standard—the egg properly poached, with a Tasso ham hollandaise.
The Eggs Hussarde was similar. The New Orleans specialty was simply Eggs Benedict with the addition of grilled sliced tomato and a red wine sauce. Though, the tomato wasn’t really grilled. And, also, we suspect, it might have made the Bitch who ate it a bit ill later that day. Oof.
The open-faced omelet came covered with ruffle chips. They weren’t particularly spicy or tasty, but added a nice texture to the dish once they were broken up. The omelet itself was covered with onions and andouille sausage.
For dessert, I really wanted chocolate beignets, or some kind of fluffy dessert beignets. Alas, they had none on the menu—a big disappointment considering the rest of their menu is so Cajun. Instead, we ordered the chocolate hazelnut crème brulee, which was a beautiful dish, very rich, and perfect to share between three gossiping girls.
The Bitches say: B+ Great service in a welcoming restaurant with personality, average food but with a few creative touches.
Warehouse Bar & Grill
214 King Street
Warehouse Bar & Grill serves Saturday and Sunday brunch.