Not So Lucky at Lüke

We knew it wasn’t John Besh’s flagship restaurant August.  We knew it was New Year’s Day, probably not the best day for a good dining experience.  Nevertheless, we expected so much more from Lüke.

Located at 333 St. Charles in the Hilton Hotel, Lüke's bright, bustling atmosphere WAS exactly what we expected.  The crowd seemed, unlike us, young and hip.  We had made reservations and only had to wait a few minutes before being shown to our table which had a view of the glassed-in kitchen.  I love watching the cooks in action!  The ambience was very European bistro.

A personal aside about “bistro” atmosphere:  When we took our daughter to restaurants when she was young, we were adamant that she not be one of those obnoxious kids who can’t stay seated or quiet.  So my husband told her that she could be more noisy if the restaurant was a “bistro,” but if it wasn’t, she had to be quiet and well-mannered.  So whenever we entered a restaurant, she would turn to my husband and ask, “Daddy, is this a bistro?”  Mostly he shook his head and replied, somewhat resignedly, “No.”   Our daughter would heave a small sigh but behaved like a “big girl,” seated nicely in her chair occupying herself with the colors and coloring book I always kept in my purse.  When we did dine at a “bistro,” such as Picadilly,a buffet restaurant, or McDonald’s, she still was well-behaved, although a little more enthusiastic.

Back to Lüke. 

Our server took our drink order.  We ordered a Malbec which wasn’t the cheapest wine on the list, but on the lower end of the wine menu.  Now I am no wine connoisseur, and I know that good wines can come with screw-off tops, but when you’re out for dinner it’s a little deflating to not get a cork to sniff. 

Our waiter brought our wine with some small baguettes and took our food order, and that is the last we saw of her until the end of our meal--too late to tell her we were served a Merlot instead of a Malbec and too late to tell her how our food tasted.  More about that later. 

For an appetizer, we ordered the Paté de Campagne, a rustic pork paté with a texture somewhere between a sausage and meatloaf.  The paté came with some slender crostini and a cutting board with dollops of a pepperonata (sautéed peppers, onion, and garlic), bread and butter pickles, pickled watermelon, and stone-ground mustard.  The pate was also garnished with a riesling gelée and (perhaps) some radish shoots.  Very delicious.

For his entrée, my husband ordered the Tuesday night special which is the “Maultaschen.” This was a piece of braised veal rolled in a sheet pasta, sliced in roulades, then flash-fried  and topped with a sweetish creole tomato sauce which had a nice basil-garlic flavor.  He was very pleased with his choice. 

I, however, was not so lucky in my entrée choice.  I ordered the jägerschnitzel which was described on the menu as “panéed veal, mushrooms, spätzle, warm porcini aioli.”   I have had a lot of jägerschnitzel, and I don’t mind a bit of “chew” to my veal, but this was a lot more deep-fried than pan-fried.  As for the mushrooms, the “jäger” in jägerschnitzel, there were, at most, three.  The spätzle, small egg noodles, were made and then “re-fried” or pan sautéed, a common preparation, but were very salty.  Even more problematic was the so-called “warm porcini ailoli.”  It was so salty as to be inedible (and I like salt!) and resembled the cream sauce on chicken-fried steak at Cracker Barrel.

Since our food was delivered by other servers who just set the dishes down and walked off and our server didn’t return until we had finished, it was a little too late to request any kind of substitution, although she did offer at that point, to have my dish “redone.” 

We passed on dessert and attempted to order an after-dinner digestif in the amaro category, a bitter, herbal Italian liqueur.  Our server seemed to understand saying she “loved” amaros and went off to see if the bar had one.  But when she came back to tell us that all they had was the type of bitters used to make cocktails such as Old Fashioneds, we questioned whether she did get what we were asking for.

So although this wasn’t the worst meal I’ve ever had, it certainly was a disappointing one to have in a John Besh restaurant.  I can only hope it was not the norm and that Besh is keeping his “hand in” his New Orleans restaurant empire. 

As a footnote, our adult daughter did enjoy a great rabbit dish when she ate at Lüke a few months ago.   I assume she behaved herself even though she was dining in a bistro.