A few weeks prior to writing this, I’m seated inside Lagniappe Brasserie,the successor to the old New Berlin home of Steven Wade’s Café. The evening is drawing to a close, and I have a sampler of homemade sorbets before me — four frozen melon-ball scoops: lemon, Persian lime, blood orange and apple parsley. The lemon makes me purse my lips. The orange is bright red and syrupy sweet. The apple parsley has the grassy flavor of a fresh herb — more palate cleanser than dessert, I conclude.
But what I like about this quartet is its unexpected union. Owners Andy and Mina Tenaglia opted for the curious moniker “Lagniappe” (pronounced “lahn-yap”) for its hospitable definition: In Louisiana, folks use the word to mean a little gift or “something extra” a shopkeeper gives to a customer. As I let bites of frozen sweetness melt on my tongue, “lahn-yap” is feeling more and more apt.
Andy, who before this gig served an eight-year stint as Miller Park’s executive chef, prints out a new menu every day for his just-shy-of-a-year-old restaurant. Changes may be drastic or minimal. Tenaglia likes to cook according to what’s in season, “loves” organic and free-range items culled from local purveyors. He might have a dish that incorporates rabbit, venison or steer liver. He cooks with butter and cream — that’s his French culinary training talking — and won’t touch hydrogenated oils. That’s comforting.
The restaurant, its 48 seats scattered around elegant white-topped tables, is one of a few in town serving an amuse bouche,a small gratis nibble. It changes frequently as well. (My favorite is pheasant pâté with red wine jam, cornichon and baguette toast). Because of its fluctuations, the menu is fairly small, a relief from the drowning feeling of multi-pagers.
The Brasserie salad doesn’t vary. It doesn’t need to. Mesclun greens blend with endive, thin-sliced cucumber and pear, cherry tomato and red onion in a creamy herb vinaigrette. The soup might be Oriental duck and lentil, cream of asparagus, corn chowder or chili. A shake of salt coaxed out more flavor from the spring vegetable. The cream of pheasant was buttery, rich (though not heavy) and loaded with minced leek and chopped potato. The cream of wild mushroom had the most definition of all — an earthy, just foraged flavor. The soups go delectably with the Brasserie’s lovely bread basket, which might have three or four of the following: Irish soda, banana, French, cranberry-walnut, wheat, pumpkin.
Appetizers are few, but that means less pressure on the kitchen. The staff can concentrate on doing them well — and they did on my visits. A risotto was al dente, suffused with garlic and topped with five perfectly cooked medium shrimp (which made the still attached tails slightly less of a nuisance; $10). The Indian samosas featured one week were rich pastry bundles full of minced rabbit, a respectable effort even though, as Tenaglia later told me, it was his first shot at Indian ($7). Best was the gratinée of chanterelles (reminiscent of the wild mushroom soup I’d had earlier), an experience in debauchery ($8). A heavy mushroom cream sauce spooned over French bread, the gratinée was like bonbons with a glass of Dom Perignon.
The appetizers had a decided edge over most of the entrées. The beef strip loin delivered a just-okay piece of marbled meat — it could have been moister. But the béarnaise — a butter-yolk-tarragon sauce — drizzled on the steak was discolored and flavorless ($23). And the deep-fried, hush puppy-like potato served with it was unpleasantly greasy. On the other hand, the balanced, muted flavor of a tart cherry sauce was the right match for medium-seared duck breast. The sauce took the edge off the hint of gaminess to the meat ($20). In another entrée, a light cider “jus” nicely complemented three generous hunks of pecan-crusted pork tenderloin, although there was so much meat and just a trace of sauce ($19).
The fish entrées, however, excelled. The filet of sable fish, a dead ringer for Icelandic cod, only creamier, was steamed and topped with sautéed leeks and lemon beurre blanc ($22). As firm as the sable fish was soft, the pan-seared shark steak in tomato concasse (a chunky sauce flavored, in this instance, with flattering fresh lime) was outstanding — with not a trace of dryness ($20). Too bad the starch the Brasserie customarily serves with fish is uninspiring parsley boiled potatoes.
At this point, you know I’m smitten with the sorbet sampler ($6). Desserts change, too — crème brûlée, pot de crème, key lime pie. The ensemble of cheeses is one of few regulars on the dessert menu, and it’s clear why. Recently, the assortment featured a pungent port wine aged blue, nutty French Fol Epi (an Emmental) and mild Manchego ($7). With seasoned almonds, berries and crisp toasts, it’s a meal.
If you’re looking for perfection, no restaurant has it. What I like about Lagniappe Brasserie is the drive to give more than what’s expected. That makes this place a triumph of sorts.
lagniappe brasserie
17001 W. Greenfield Avenue
New Berlin
262-782-7530
Hours: L Mon-Fri 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m. D Mon-Sat 5-9 p.m.
Prices: L $8-$15. D appetizers, soup, salad $4-$10; entrées $16-$28; desserts $3-$7 Service: attentive, cordial, professional
Dress: business casual or better
Credit cards: M V A DS
Handicap access:yes
Nonsmoking
Reservations: recommended
