Our story
A supper club built around a fire
Bayou Ember Kitchen started with a simple idea: cook New Orleans food the slow way, over real embers, in a room where people want to stay until the music stops.
The fire
Pecan, oak and patience
The heart of the kitchen is a wide, open grill fed with pecan and oak. It is lit in the early afternoon and has burned down to glowing embers by the time the first guests arrive. Pork chops, redfish, duck and the ribeye all cook over it. So do the beets for the salad and the corn for the maque choux.
Next to the grill sits a row of cast iron. That is where the redfish is blackened, the cornbread is baked to order and, every afternoon, someone stands over the roux for the chicken and andouille gumbo. It takes the best part of an hour to stir it to the right color, and nobody has found a shortcut that tastes the same.
The cooking is Creole and Cajun at heart, but we are not a museum. If a Gulf fish is better than redfish that week, it goes on the grill instead.
Low light, a slow roux, and a song you half know.
The room
Gas lamps, brick and a balcony
The restaurant fills a two-story corner building in Mid-City. Downstairs is the dining room and the zinc bar, warm with low light and the glow of the grill. At the back is the Gaslight Room, named for the lamps along its brick walls. Upstairs, the Balcony Room opens onto a cast-iron gallery over the street.
From Thursday to Saturday a piano trio plays from seven until ten, at a volume that leaves room for conversation. On Sunday a smaller group plays through brunch. There is no cover charge; the music is part of supper.
The people
Who looks after you
Names and roles are sample content for this demo. A real restaurant introduces its own team here.
Delphine
Chef and co-owner. Runs the grill and keeps the roux honest.
Theo
Co-owner, front of house and the person who books the music.
Rosalie
Pastry. Responsible for the bread pudding and every beignet.
Where it comes from
Louisiana first
We buy as close to home as we can. Shrimp, crab and oysters come from Louisiana waters when the season allows, and fish from Gulf boats we know by name. Rice comes from Louisiana mills, cane syrup and pecans from small producers in the state.
The menu follows the calendar. Creole tomatoes arrive in early summer, crawfish in spring, satsumas and greens in the cooler months. When something runs out, it comes off the menu rather than being replaced with a lesser version.
We also look after the people who eat here. Every dish is marked for vegetarian, gluten-free, shellfish and heat, and the kitchen will always talk you through an allergy before you order.