Let's set the stage for my state of mind on my inaugural trip to French Quarter.
Some combination of delirium from hunger (I hadn't eaten a solitary real food, unless wheatgrass and jerky are real foods) and general anger from having to work an actual full day on a Friday compelled me to wings.
I recalled a claim on the side of a wall at the latta arcade that this place had the city's best of those. Game on.
French Quarter is one of those places that's description will change based on whom you ask about it. Some will call it a quaint little spot in the heart of the city. Others, a cool dive with a solid gimmick. Here's my take. I walked in and immediately felt like I'd walked into a "confederacy of dunces" era speakeasy (literary reference game over 9000). Very old New Orleans vibe. A little dark, despite the huge floor to ceiling windows and open door, but that's what happens when you enter a place with that much wood and stained glass.
Let's talk service. There didn't seem to be a hostess or host to greet you at the door, and the bar was full, which is to be expected for a Friday happy hour. One of the wait staff - the little blonde one - saw this and made haste to seat me. The other one served me.
I always take note of how long it takes to get your order in, and from there how long it takes the kitchen to hop to. they were especially on the ball. I only had to wait the exact amount of time it took me to peruse the menu and make selections to put in my order
The food seemed to be out at the very moment the thought seed was planted in my head that I was waiting for my food.
It was out quick is what I'm saying.
I have to mention the steak. It was puzzling. Don't get me wrong, I was satisfied with it, but I have to note that they add this steak sauce. You're either gonna love it or hate it. Me? The first bite was remarkable, full of flavors that my brain wasn't ready to experience. I made an audible exclamation. Every other bite was conflict. I know I didn't dislike the sauce, but I also felt like I could very quickly grow tired of it. I kept taking bites, compelled to come to a decision.
Long story short, I finished the steak.
The wings. They came out mid steak. It was at this point I noticed the sun. He was on the wall, cutting his eyes at me. He had an American flag print on his face and color changing lights. I don't know why that caught my eye, but I appreciate art installations, so bonus points.
The wings. Alright, so the claim that these are the best wings in the city is heard to quantify. I got their famous salt and pepper wings. They have some really funky bleu cheese dressing. To me, that's a good thing, suggestive of the house made quality of all the food. I'll admit, the crispness, the size, the flavor despite their simplicity (not to mention how well they pair with that funky funky cheese sauce) make these some solid A to A- wings, but I'll need a bigger sample size before I can crown them.
Definitely recommend if you're just looking for a nice place to share a couple drinks and eat some wings with friends.