There are many things to love about Zimm's Little Deck. Oddly — for a Cajun restaurant with an executive chef from Louisiana — the po-boys aren't one of them.
Troy Fields
Skip the po-boys and go for the cocktails and small plates, especially the calamari.
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Hours: 10 a.m. to midnight, Sundays through Thursdays, 10 a.m. to 2 a.m., Fridays through Saturdays.
Dozen Gulf oysters: $17
Gumbo: $4
Calamari: $9
Pate: $7
Fried shrimp po-boy: $12
Fried oyster po-boy: $12
Le Grand Cochon: $12
Casablanca: $15
Chocolate bread pudding: $9
Zimm's Little Deck
601 Richmond, 713-527-8328.
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Perhaps the fact that Zimm's employs an executive chef who's rarely seen on premises is one of the problems. Chef Jeramie Robison has been busily improving and modernizing the menu at Cinq, the new restaurant in La Colombe d'Or that's the crown jewel in the Zimmerman family's Montrose empire (which also includes Zimm's Martini Bar), leaving the kitchen at Zimm's to its own devices. But great Cajun food rarely requires overly fancy fussing around with, so it would stand to reason that perhaps the po-boys would be better without interference from an executive chef type. Even a young one. Even a Louisianan.
Whatever the reason, I cannot fathom how Zimm's can serve a barely six-inch-long "rich boy" on soft, squishy, slightly gummy, totally inappropriate bread and charge $15 for it. It would almost be offensive if not for the obvious care that's been taken with it, awful bread notwithstanding. Zimm's and Chef Robison have clearly put a lot of effort into the menu here, and I do love the idea of having "rich boy" and "po-boy" sections (as much as I don't love the inflated prices in either).
And on my very first visit, when Zimm's first opened, a Moroccan-inspired lamb sandwich off the "rich boy" side of the menu wowed me: The tender lamb had the slightest tinge of game still playing on the edges, thickly infused with turmeric and ginger and coated in a tangy aioli that made the lamb sing. Punched up with peppery leaves of arugula, the lamb and the sauce were more than enough to make me overlook the bread that night.
Other rich boys on Zimm's menu had me eagerly awaiting return visits: Le Grand Cochon with pulled pork, another lamb sandwich called a Casablanca, a Lafitte with fried oysters and beef tenderloin. But when I tasted my dining partner's Huey Long — a rich boy filled with barbecued shrimp — it was like glimpsing the future. And it wasn't a bright future.
While the barbecued shrimp were perfectly passable, if forgettable, his rather puny rich boy contained very few of the actual crustaceans and was far from dressed, a trend that only continued with further visits. If the kitchen works so hard crafting these cocktail sauces and aiolis from scratch, why skimp on them instead of allowing them to shine?
Luckily, we'd ordered a dozen Gulf oysters along with our sandwiches, and my dining companion took refuge in their buttery, briny embrace while I polished off my rich boy. It was a bit of a shock, however, to get the bill later and find those oysters were $17 for a dozen. Considering you can get the same oysters — shucked with the same care and skill — down the street at Danton's for $9 a dozen, I was unimpressed with Zimm's markup, to say the least.
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But while Zimm's doesn't necessarily have it together on the poor/rich boy front, I still found myself looking forward to return visits for three things: the small plates, the cocktails and the inviting atmosphere.
The restaurant is entirely new, built from the ground up on Richmond just off the spur. The Zimmermans took care to make it look as authentically French Quarter-esque as possible, something that was noticed with affection by my Cajun friend, Jason, when I took him for dinner one recent night. The patio area lines a pétanque court, which I expect to be in full use this summer. A fireplace outside attempts to make things cozier in the winter (although there's no seating next to the fireplace, which I found very odd). And while people have complained about the noise coming off Richmond when seated outside, I question which patios they usually frequent — this stretch of Richmond is almost as quiet as you'll get in Montrose.
At the long, smooth, veined marble bar inside, you can perch on a stool while watching oysters being shucked or sandwiches constructed in the open kitchen. It's a very cozy — if very upscale — feeling that's strongly enhanced with a cocktail in hand. The cocktail program here was developed by Anthony Montz, formerly of Hearsay, and while he's now moved on to other projects, the drinks are still made skillfully and creatively by bartender and front-of-house man Cory.
On a recent blustery evening, a pear-clove sour — a wintery twist on a whiskey sour — warmed me up as I awaited my food with Jason. He was annoyed that the cocktail menu listed a "Nawlins Collins" as an option ("No one from New Orleans says or spells New Orleans like that," he huffed), but ordered one anyway and ended up loving Zimm's twist on a classic Tom Collins. A Sazerac on another visit was ruined by an abundance of bitters that turned the cocktail a rosy orange-pink color, but was made up for by a Hurricane that was heavy on the rum and packed a serious punch. At the very least, Zimm's is a wholly pleasant place for a cocktail and catching up with friends.
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