I gotta say, I was a little disappointed. A small part of me came to get a drink from Chris MacMillian, bartender extraordinaire and charismatic legend of the drinks scene. His night off. My fault for not checking. You should check and turn up for dinner early and have him wow you with a julep or some other thing he does exceptionally well.
That said, I made the best of things BECAUSE I’M A TROOPER. Kingfish (named for ebullient local politician of old, Huey Long) (look it up, I’m already onto the food) plops down in the middle of casual and upscale. It’s relaxed but you don’t feel you could walk in with shorts and those shoes that have toes.
The food is NOLA-lead with some cheeky deviations. The rabbit gumbo was solid. Our server was very smiley, especially considering she must have to wrangle tourists all day and night. In the dining room: middle-aged friends in matching Hawaiin shirts who got tired before reaching Jimmy Buffets Margaritaville and young black power couples on serious dates with sharp suits and intent looks. In short: there’s a lot going on.
The gulf fish and charred broccoli were good enough for me to remember, as was my companion’s “ramen”, but for different reasons. The main one being it wasn’t ramen – no soup was made during the creation of this dish – but it was a sloppy and satisfying noodle party in any case.
You’d think the Quarter had most dining options covered by now, but I think Kingfish corners a market and a weirdly charming social spot – it’s a fine dining-tourist-casual-business-date-craft cocktail kind of place. Like Huey Long, all things to all people, or at least that’s what it feels like it’s doing, and to no small amount of success.
Where: French Quarter
Food: Modern New Orleans
What you're eating: The Ahi tuna and roasted duck were solid. You're drinking a cocktail because duh.