Charles & Julia

Mark Latter inherited a legacy restaurant from his father Steve. Tijague’s is 170 years old this year. But his piece is not about Tujague’s. It’s about the bold moves Mark and his wife have made with that legacy.

Tujague’s may be a Grande Dame due to its age, but it was never as grand as the other dames. Since I’m not 170, I don’t know if was grand in the early days as well, but in my limited experience,Tujague’s was always an outlier.

Located much deeper into the French Quarter than the others, it had slipped into raffishness by the time I first visited with Tom in 1990. 

When Mark inherited the place, he started to shake things up instantly, doing a big renovation that used the second level as a private dining room. This opened onto the balcony and was a beautiful development for the restaurant. Traversing the spiral staircase to that room was a terrifying experience, but not as terrifying as going down.

The Latter’s next brave gamble was moving Tujague’s way up Decatur into a much better and larger space vacated by Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. I had grave reservations about the prospects of success for such a step in a place so steeped in tradition as New Orleans, but I have never seen such a brilliant and well-executed move. Not only did they move the physical elements of the place, but its unique spirit came too.

But the Latters did not stop there. The Instagrammable spot in the old-but-new Tujague’s signaled the forward-thinking of these two. They opened The Bower in a brand new construction space in the LGD, and followed that with Birdy‘s by the Bower, a breakfast/lunch spot across the walkway in this new complex.

Not only does Tujague’s sport a younger vibe, but The Bower and Birdy’s are very contemporary (hip.) And now the Latters have opened their newest and hippest spot in the new Perle Hotel on St. Charles at Julia, appropriately named Charles & Julia.

This type of thing is becoming a recurring theme: hip and very stylish small boutique hotel that is intimate and welcoming. It’s cocktail-centric, serving small plates of nonsense with polish and sophistication.

I find this way of eating really unsatisfying, but everything I had was beautiful, well-executed, and really tasty.

After looking hard at the menu to find something appealing, I could only come up with marinated olives, a Creole Cream Cheesecake, and something called a Provoletta, so more cheese. And I ordered Crab Gnocchi. I could also have gotten a cheese board, meat board, or charcuterie board, as well as Hamachi Crudo or Beef Tartare. 

The Creole Cream Cheesecake could have been dessert. It was a beautiful stack of dense Creole Cream Cheese layered over a dense crumbled then packed Parmesan and basil crust. Between these layers was a thick jam of roasted cherry tomatoes. This was so sweet it could have passed for citrus fruit jam. The top was finished with a profusion of baby arugula. Sprinkles of grated Parmesan and a drizzle of Balsamic vinegar encircled this lovely thing. It was so rich it would have served two people easily.

The olives were a great surprise. I love olives but have never had them like this. They were heated and engulfed in coarse herbs. They were wrinkled and soft and delicious. I have never had olives like this. Maybe I will have to make this a regular thing at places like this. Marinated olives are a staple course on these silly menus. 

The Provoletta had more olives and tomatoes and herbs baked on top of charred provolone cheese. This came with the best crostini I have had in a long while. It was ideally toasted and crunchy, with a bit of oil and herbs for flavoring. Loved these!

The largest plate on the table was the biggest disappointment. The crabmeat gnocchi was substantial. Loaded with crabmeat and gnocchi, it came to the table looking like a mountain of grated Parmesan cheese. I wish I had noticed on the menu (a chronic and costly problem of mine) that there would be a seemingly raw egg sitting in the middle of this. The gnocchi were fine, though all gnocchi falls short in my constant comparison to the John Besh version with its soft little plump pillows of pasta. This was a fine version of the dish, ruined by this ridiculous, trendy, and ubiquitous, unnecessary addition to everything.

With no drinks and a few menu items from the Happy Hour menu, this disjointed collection of dishes amounted to $85 with tip. I could have eaten a real meal for this. I am just being a geriatric whiner, a badge I wear proudly on The Food Show that springs from a comment on our IG page.

So let me be clear, and fair: if you like this new style of grazing, are going with friends to linger over cocktails, and love glamorous yet vintagy environments, Charles & Julia will be a great addition to your orbit. It’s very well done.