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New Orleans Enclosed
Enclosed dining room - large transitional light wood floor and beige floor enclosed dining room idea with white walls and no fireplace
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Enclosed - Dining Room Example of a large transitional light wood floor and beige floor enclosed dining room design with white walls and no fireplace
#saarinen tulip table#brass lighting#mint green wishbone chairs#feminine modern dining room#dining room#gilt baroque mirror
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Carl Hansen & Son CH24 wishbone chair – Mint Green ❤ liked on Polyvore (see more hans wegner furniture)
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Restaurant Review: Elysian Bar | Fortune
The Elysian Bar in New Orleans’ Marigny neighborhood occupies the 150-year-old rectory of Saints Peter & Paul. Set behind a gated garden of pygmy palms, the building is an inviting confection of brick and marzipan stucco. I don’t so much walk through the arched doorway as a magnetizing presence inside summons me forth, the single gas lantern flickering above my head like biblical tongues.
A long hallway stretches down the first floor of the former clergy quarters. There’s a snug coffee bar to the right. Two adjoining parlors to the left are lit and furnished for the sequel to Interview With the Vampire: ornately mantled fireplaces, cane chairs with crimson cushions, marble tables with legs shaped like sea serpents, eruptions of ferns and blood-purple flowers, body-length gold mirrors, bustled and billowing mustard drapes framing a burgundy gingham sofa like a theater stage. The dreamy space feels less like a restaurant than an exclusive house party you were invited to by mistake or as a cruel joke.
I pause by the entrance near a stack of menus, waiting for a host. There’s one on staff (management confirms later) but none appears, so I walk down the hallway. It’s difficult to tell the staff from the diners, but no one says hi or can I help you, so I keep going. The hall opens into a sunroom modeled after Monet’s dining room in Giverny, France. One door leads out to a brick courtyard, guarded by stained-glass saints watching from the 24-foot windows. Another doorway connects to the moody vermilion bar, whose cocktail menu showcases a grand tour of vermouths, including an Athenian rouge that smells like a bowl of vanilla and roses. I wait 10 minutes. Neither of the bartenders acknowledges me.
Hotel Peter and Paul’s rectory parlor. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul
I backtrack to the foyer, where someone tells me to sit anywhere and “a server will be right over.” A server does not come right over. Then two do, a moment apart. The first takes my drink order and the second takes my food order, as if they were cocktail waitresses absentmindedly wandering the Harrah’s casino floor. Then Martha Wiggins materializes alongside my table, bearing a bowl of grilled okra and crispy, rice-floured-and-fried eggplant lashed with harissa, and the night starts looking up.
Rebirth
After she became a Popsicle tycoon but before she was a hotelier, People’s Pops founder Nathalie Jordi would pass the Peter & Paul compound—the schoolhouse, the rectory, the church, the convent—all closed more than a decade before she relocated to New Orleans from Brooklyn in 2009. “These buildings tower over the neighborhood,” she says. “They were dark and gloomy but still very beautiful.”
Jordi wanted to open a hotel in Marigny, but “much smaller and more modest” than the 71-key situation she wound up with: “I was aware of the [Peter & Paul buildings] but they just seemed out of my league because they were so big and required so much expensive renovation.” Partnering with design firm ASH NYC (the Dean in Providence, the Siren in Detroit) made the $20 million, four-year rehabilitation possible, and the Hotel Peter & Paul opened in October. The Elysian Bar, which is managed by the folks behind the Bywater smash Bacchanal, debuted a month later.
I wake up in a wrought-iron canopy bed, in an attractively monastic room at the foot of a dramatic wishbone-shaped cypress staircase in the old schoolhouse, thinking about that eggplant and okra. The tender vegetables were shellacked in fragrant, feisty pepper paste. Crème fraîche, fennel, and mint countered with cool touches. Black sesame seeds, whole cumin seeds, and peanuts made every bite crunch like Cracker Jacks.
The Elysian Bar inside Hotel Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul
Martha Wiggins, deliverer of the dish, is the chef de cuisine to Alex Harrell’s executive chef, and the two go way back. They cooked together at Sylvain and Angeline and have resumed their easy two-step at Elysian Bar, banging out an all-day menu featuring Southern produce and proteins on an international vacation. Huge, sweet, head-on prawns were plucked from the gulf, roasted, and bathed in fruity-hot Calabrian chile butter. Lacto-fermented corn blew up a mild-mannered cucumber salad with mini explosions of sugar, salt, and funk.
The grits were best I’ve eaten, a strain of red corn grown and dried by the Alabama coast, milled at Bellegarde Bakery in New Orleans, and finally simmered with milk and cream into a porridge as silky and beige as cappuccino foam. They came topped with a perfect poached egg, frizzled shallots, and mushrooms suspended in a barbecue-y tomato sauce, all delicious but ultimately unnecessary. These grits stand alone.
Laissez-faire
Elysian Bar’s eerie evening glamour abates in the sunlight. At 8:30 in the morning, when I shuffle across the hotel courtyard into the restaurant, the place feels like a mansion museum before the docents have arrived. There are no customers and no breakfast besides baked goods at the twee coffee bar—strange for a hotel restaurant. “The menu starts at 10:30,” says a dour barista, passing a cup of Congregation Coffee across the counter. She looks like she needs it more than I do.
I take the coffee for a walk around Marigny, where the houses are taffy-colored and the sidewalks cracked like Kit Kats. Trees turn whole blocks into canopied tunnels of greenery, and the air is thick with humidity and magnolias. There are worse places to wait for a restaurant to open.
I head back into Elysian Bar at 11 a.m. and, just like at dinner, there’s no staff to direct me. I wander into the sunroom, by daylight a country kaleidoscope of lemons and sapphires, and sit down. A server appears to inform me I have to order at the bar, and while I can order now, the kitchen won’t start serving food until 11:30. So I get up from my table, walk into the bar, place (and pay for) my order with the bartender. Nearly an hour later, the server then delivers that order to my table. Confused? Me too.
Inside the cafe at Hotel Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul
Harrell and Wiggins hold up their end of the deal again. The tannish-gray puck of sunchoke custard looks like something you’d use to grout bathroom tile, but it tastes purely of the creamy, nutty Jerusalem artichokes. A tangle of shaved asparagus, arugula, and radishes tossed in acidic, mustardy vinaigrette surrounds the custard like a green halo. Bourbon creates a subtle undercurrent of sweetness in the exquisite chicken liver pâté. Grilled sliced of wheat-y Bellegarde sourdough and tangy strawberry-beet mostarda accompany, and the three components eaten together harmonize like a choir.
The duck egg omelet is perfect. Made with Mississippi eggs and served with a well-dressed pile of arugula, it’s as yellow as a buttercup, pregnant with rich, runny triple-crème cheese, and not too wet or too dry. Chives and bowfin caviar bead the omelet’s sloping surface, adding balancing pops of salinity and allium heat to each luxurious forkful. I would eat this every day for breakfast and never get bored.
It’s afternoon—literally, after noon—when my “breakfast” is done. I see my server/not-server once during the meal. Because I’ve already paid, I can leave quickly, without saying goodbye.
Many people think the best thing a hotel restaurant can be is not a hotel restaurant. It’s much more valuable to be a place activated by locals, somewhere authentic, with genuinely good food and noncorporate ambiance. Elysian Bar has clearly achieved that. The smart cooking and evocative atmosphere make it a spectacular place to be, but for the guest who wants to belong to another city for one night, to feel welcomed and cared for, it’s only spectacular in how short it falls.
More must-read stories from Fortune:
—This restaurateur traded fine dining for Ben Franklin’s favorite milk cocktail
—Bar carts are back: How this revival is different
—Why Charleston’s food scene is stronger than ever right now
—Why this classic Israeli sandwich should be on your foodie to-do list
—Listen to our new audio briefing, Fortune 500 Daily
Follow Fortune on Flipboard to stay up-to-date on the latest news and analysis.
Credit: Source link
The post Restaurant Review: Elysian Bar | Fortune appeared first on WeeklyReviewer.
from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.com/restaurant-review-elysian-bar-fortune/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=restaurant-review-elysian-bar-fortune from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.tumblr.com/post/186286560537
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Restaurant Review: Elysian Bar | Fortune
The Elysian Bar in New Orleans’ Marigny neighborhood occupies the 150-year-old rectory of Saints Peter & Paul. Set behind a gated garden of pygmy palms, the building is an inviting confection of brick and marzipan stucco. I don’t so much walk through the arched doorway as a magnetizing presence inside summons me forth, the single gas lantern flickering above my head like biblical tongues.
A long hallway stretches down the first floor of the former clergy quarters. There’s a snug coffee bar to the right. Two adjoining parlors to the left are lit and furnished for the sequel to Interview With the Vampire: ornately mantled fireplaces, cane chairs with crimson cushions, marble tables with legs shaped like sea serpents, eruptions of ferns and blood-purple flowers, body-length gold mirrors, bustled and billowing mustard drapes framing a burgundy gingham sofa like a theater stage. The dreamy space feels less like a restaurant than an exclusive house party you were invited to by mistake or as a cruel joke.
I pause by the entrance near a stack of menus, waiting for a host. There’s one on staff (management confirms later) but none appears, so I walk down the hallway. It’s difficult to tell the staff from the diners, but no one says hi or can I help you, so I keep going. The hall opens into a sunroom modeled after Monet’s dining room in Giverny, France. One door leads out to a brick courtyard, guarded by stained-glass saints watching from the 24-foot windows. Another doorway connects to the moody vermilion bar, whose cocktail menu showcases a grand tour of vermouths, including an Athenian rouge that smells like a bowl of vanilla and roses. I wait 10 minutes. Neither of the bartenders acknowledges me.
Hotel Peter and Paul’s rectory parlor. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul
I backtrack to the foyer, where someone tells me to sit anywhere and “a server will be right over.” A server does not come right over. Then two do, a moment apart. The first takes my drink order and the second takes my food order, as if they were cocktail waitresses absentmindedly wandering the Harrah’s casino floor. Then Martha Wiggins materializes alongside my table, bearing a bowl of grilled okra and crispy, rice-floured-and-fried eggplant lashed with harissa, and the night starts looking up.
Rebirth
After she became a Popsicle tycoon but before she was a hotelier, People’s Pops founder Nathalie Jordi would pass the Peter & Paul compound—the schoolhouse, the rectory, the church, the convent—all closed more than a decade before she relocated to New Orleans from Brooklyn in 2009. “These buildings tower over the neighborhood,” she says. “They were dark and gloomy but still very beautiful.”
Jordi wanted to open a hotel in Marigny, but “much smaller and more modest” than the 71-key situation she wound up with: “I was aware of the [Peter & Paul buildings] but they just seemed out of my league because they were so big and required so much expensive renovation.” Partnering with design firm ASH NYC (the Dean in Providence, the Siren in Detroit) made the $20 million, four-year rehabilitation possible, and the Hotel Peter & Paul opened in October. The Elysian Bar, which is managed by the folks behind the Bywater smash Bacchanal, debuted a month later.
I wake up in a wrought-iron canopy bed, in an attractively monastic room at the foot of a dramatic wishbone-shaped cypress staircase in the old schoolhouse, thinking about that eggplant and okra. The tender vegetables were shellacked in fragrant, feisty pepper paste. Crème fraîche, fennel, and mint countered with cool touches. Black sesame seeds, whole cumin seeds, and peanuts made every bite crunch like Cracker Jacks.
The Elysian Bar inside Hotel Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul
Martha Wiggins, deliverer of the dish, is the chef de cuisine to Alex Harrell’s executive chef, and the two go way back. They cooked together at Sylvain and Angeline and have resumed their easy two-step at Elysian Bar, banging out an all-day menu featuring Southern produce and proteins on an international vacation. Huge, sweet, head-on prawns were plucked from the gulf, roasted, and bathed in fruity-hot Calabrian chile butter. Lacto-fermented corn blew up a mild-mannered cucumber salad with mini explosions of sugar, salt, and funk.
The grits were best I’ve eaten, a strain of red corn grown and dried by the Alabama coast, milled at Bellegarde Bakery in New Orleans, and finally simmered with milk and cream into a porridge as silky and beige as cappuccino foam. They came topped with a perfect poached egg, frizzled shallots, and mushrooms suspended in a barbecue-y tomato sauce, all delicious but ultimately unnecessary. These grits stand alone.
Laissez-faire
Elysian Bar’s eerie evening glamour abates in the sunlight. At 8:30 in the morning, when I shuffle across the hotel courtyard into the restaurant, the place feels like a mansion museum before the docents have arrived. There are no customers and no breakfast besides baked goods at the twee coffee bar—strange for a hotel restaurant. “The menu starts at 10:30,” says a dour barista, passing a cup of Congregation Coffee across the counter. She looks like she needs it more than I do.
I take the coffee for a walk around Marigny, where the houses are taffy-colored and the sidewalks cracked like Kit Kats. Trees turn whole blocks into canopied tunnels of greenery, and the air is thick with humidity and magnolias. There are worse places to wait for a restaurant to open.
I head back into Elysian Bar at 11 a.m. and, just like at dinner, there’s no staff to direct me. I wander into the sunroom, by daylight a country kaleidoscope of lemons and sapphires, and sit down. A server appears to inform me I have to order at the bar, and while I can order now, the kitchen won’t start serving food until 11:30. So I get up from my table, walk into the bar, place (and pay for) my order with the bartender. Nearly an hour later, the server then delivers that order to my table. Confused? Me too.
Inside the cafe at Hotel Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul
Harrell and Wiggins hold up their end of the deal again. The tannish-gray puck of sunchoke custard looks like something you’d use to grout bathroom tile, but it tastes purely of the creamy, nutty Jerusalem artichokes. A tangle of shaved asparagus, arugula, and radishes tossed in acidic, mustardy vinaigrette surrounds the custard like a green halo. Bourbon creates a subtle undercurrent of sweetness in the exquisite chicken liver pâté. Grilled sliced of wheat-y Bellegarde sourdough and tangy strawberry-beet mostarda accompany, and the three components eaten together harmonize like a choir.
The duck egg omelet is perfect. Made with Mississippi eggs and served with a well-dressed pile of arugula, it’s as yellow as a buttercup, pregnant with rich, runny triple-crème cheese, and not too wet or too dry. Chives and bowfin caviar bead the omelet’s sloping surface, adding balancing pops of salinity and allium heat to each luxurious forkful. I would eat this every day for breakfast and never get bored.
It’s afternoon—literally, after noon—when my “breakfast” is done. I see my server/not-server once during the meal. Because I’ve already paid, I can leave quickly, without saying goodbye.
Many people think the best thing a hotel restaurant can be is not a hotel restaurant. It’s much more valuable to be a place activated by locals, somewhere authentic, with genuinely good food and noncorporate ambiance. Elysian Bar has clearly achieved that. The smart cooking and evocative atmosphere make it a spectacular place to be, but for the guest who wants to belong to another city for one night, to feel welcomed and cared for, it’s only spectacular in how short it falls.
More must-read stories from Fortune:
—This restaurateur traded fine dining for Ben Franklin’s favorite milk cocktail
—Bar carts are back: How this revival is different
—Why Charleston’s food scene is stronger than ever right now
—Why this classic Israeli sandwich should be on your foodie to-do list
—Listen to our new audio briefing, Fortune 500 Daily
Follow Fortune on Flipboard to stay up-to-date on the latest news and analysis.
Credit: Source link
The post Restaurant Review: Elysian Bar | Fortune appeared first on WeeklyReviewer.
from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.com/restaurant-review-elysian-bar-fortune/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=restaurant-review-elysian-bar-fortune
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Text
Restaurant Assessment: Elysian Bar | Fortune
http://tinyurl.com/y2avtlyr The Elysian Bar in New Orleans’ Marigny neighborhood occupies the 150-year-old rectory of Saints Peter & Paul. Set behind a gated backyard of pygmy palms, the constructing is an inviting confection of brick and marzipan stucco. I don’t a lot stroll via the arched doorway as a magnetizing presence inside summons me forth, the one gasoline lantern flickering above my head like biblical tongues. A protracted hallway stretches down the primary ground of the previous clergy quarters. There’s a comfortable espresso bar to the correct. Two adjoining parlors to the left are lit and furnished for the sequel to Interview With the Vampire: ornately mantled fireplaces, cane chairs with crimson cushions, marble tables with legs formed like sea serpents, eruptions of ferns and blood-purple flowers, body-length gold mirrors, bustled and billowing mustard drapes framing a burgundy gingham couch like a theater stage. The dreamy area feels much less like a restaurant than an unique home get together you had been invited to by mistake or as a merciless joke. I pause by the doorway close to a stack of menus, ready for a bunch. There’s one on workers (administration confirms later) however none seems, so I stroll down the hallway. It’s tough to inform the workers from the diners, however nobody says hello or can I assist you, so I preserve going. The corridor opens right into a sunroom modeled after Monet’s eating room in Giverny, France. One door leads out to a brick courtyard, guarded by stained-glass saints watching from the 24-foot home windows. One other doorway connects to the moody vermilion bar, whose cocktail menu showcases a grand tour of vermouths, together with an Athenian rouge that smells like a bowl of vanilla and roses. I wait 10 minutes. Neither of the bartenders acknowledges me. Resort Peter and Paul’s rectory parlor. Courtesy of Resort Peter and Paul I backtrack to the lobby, the place somebody tells me to sit down anyplace and “a server shall be proper over.” A server doesn’t come proper over. Then two do, a second aside. The primary takes my drink order and the second takes my meals order, as in the event that they had been cocktail waitresses absentmindedly wandering the Harrah’s on line casino ground. Then Martha Wiggins materializes alongside my desk, bearing a bowl of grilled okra and crispy, rice-floured-and-fried eggplant lashed with harissa, and the evening begins trying up. Rebirth After she grew to become a Popsicle tycoon however earlier than she was a hotelier, Individuals’s Pops founder Nathalie Jordi would go the Peter & Paul compound—the schoolhouse, the rectory, the church, the convent—all closed greater than a decade earlier than she relocated to New Orleans from Brooklyn in 2009. “These buildings tower over the neighborhood,” she says. “They had been darkish and gloomy however nonetheless very lovely.” Jordi needed to open a resort in Marigny, however “a lot smaller and extra modest” than the 71-key state of affairs she wound up with: “I used to be conscious of the [Peter & Paul buildings] however they simply appeared out of my league as a result of they had been so large and required a lot costly renovation.” Partnering with design agency ASH NYC (the Dean in Windfall, the Siren in Detroit) made the $20 million, four-year rehabilitation potential, and the Resort Peter & Paul opened in October. The Elysian Bar, which is managed by the parents behind the Bywater smash Bacchanal, debuted a month later. I get up in a wrought-iron cover mattress, in an attractively monastic room on the foot of a dramatic wishbone-shaped cypress staircase within the previous schoolhouse, serious about that eggplant and okra. The tender greens had been shellacked in aromatic, feisty pepper paste. Crème fraîche, fennel, and mint countered with cool touches. Black sesame seeds, complete cumin seeds, and peanuts made each chunk crunch like Cracker Jacks. The Elysian Bar inside Resort Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Resort Peter and Paul Martha Wiggins, deliverer of the dish, is the chef de delicacies to Alex Harrell’s government chef, and the 2 go method again. They cooked collectively at Sylvain and Angeline and have resumed their simple two-step at Elysian Bar, banging out an all-day menu that includes Southern produce and proteins on a global trip. Big, candy, head-on prawns had been plucked from the gulf, roasted, and bathed in fruity-hot Calabrian chile butter. Lacto-fermented corn blew up a mild-mannered cucumber salad with mini explosions of sugar, salt, and funk. The grits had been greatest I’ve eaten, a pressure of crimson corn grown and dried by the Alabama coast, milled at Bellegarde Bakery in New Orleans, and at last simmered with milk and cream right into a porridge as silky and beige as cappuccino foam. They got here topped with an ideal poached egg, frizzled shallots, and mushrooms suspended in a barbecue-y tomato sauce, all scrumptious however finally pointless. These grits stand alone. Laissez-faire Elysian Bar’s eerie night glamour abates within the daylight. At 8:30 within the morning, after I shuffle throughout the resort courtyard into the restaurant, the place looks like a mansion museum earlier than the docents have arrived. There are not any clients and no breakfast apart from baked items on the twee espresso bar—unusual for a resort restaurant. “The menu begins at 10:30,” says a dour barista, passing a cup of Congregation Espresso throughout the counter. She seems to be like she wants it greater than I do. I take the espresso for a stroll round Marigny, the place the homes are taffy-colored and the sidewalks cracked like Package Kats. Timber flip complete blocks into canopied tunnels of greenery, and the air is thick with humidity and magnolias. There are worse locations to attend for a restaurant to open. I head again into Elysian Bar at 11 a.m. and, identical to at dinner, there’s no workers to direct me. I wander into the sunroom, by daylight a rustic kaleidoscope of lemons and sapphires, and sit down. A server seems to tell me I’ve to order on the bar, and whereas I can order now, the kitchen gained’t begin serving meals till 11:30. So I rise up from my desk, stroll into the bar, place (and pay for) my order with the bartender. Almost an hour later, the server then delivers that order to my desk. Confused? Me too. Contained in the cafe at Resort Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Resort Peter and Paul Harrell and Wiggins maintain up their finish of the deal once more. The tannish-gray puck of sunchoke custard seems to be like one thing you’d use to grout toilet tile, nevertheless it tastes purely of the creamy, nutty Jerusalem artichokes. A tangle of shaved asparagus, arugula, and radishes tossed in acidic, mustardy French dressing surrounds the custard like a inexperienced halo. Bourbon creates a delicate undercurrent of sweetness within the beautiful rooster liver pâté. Grilled sliced of wheat-y Bellegarde sourdough and tangy strawberry-beet mostarda accompany, and the three parts eaten collectively harmonize like a choir. The duck egg omelet is ideal. Made with Mississippi eggs and served with a well-dressed pile of arugula, it’s as yellow as a buttercup, pregnant with wealthy, runny triple-crème cheese, and never too moist or too dry. Chives and bowfin caviar bead the omelet’s sloping floor, including balancing pops of salinity and allium warmth to every luxurious forkful. I might eat this each day for breakfast and by no means get bored. It’s afternoon—actually, after midday—when my “breakfast” is completed. I see my server/not-server as soon as in the course of the meal. As a result of I’ve already paid, I can go away rapidly, with out saying goodbye. Many individuals assume one of the best factor a resort restaurant could be will not be a resort restaurant. It’s way more beneficial to be a spot activated by locals, someplace genuine, with genuinely good meals and noncorporate ambiance. Elysian Bar has clearly achieved that. The good cooking and evocative environment make it a spectacular place to be, however for the visitor who needs to belong to a different metropolis for one evening, to really feel welcomed and cared for, it’s solely spectacular in how quick it falls. Extra must-read tales from Fortune: —This restaurateur traded high quality eating for Ben Franklin’s favorite milk cocktail —Bar carts are back: How this revival is totally different —Why Charleston’s food scene is stronger than ever proper now —Why this classic Israeli sandwich ought to be in your foodie to-do record —Hearken to our new audio briefing, Fortune 500 Daily Follow Fortune on Flipboard to remain up-to-date on the most recent information and evaluation. Source link
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