Passionfruit Butter

Some shots from brunch at Patois a little while back…

I got this at a time when I’d been yearning for nothing more than pulled pork for at least a week straight, so my rationale for choosing the dish was frenzied and animalistic; when I looked at the menu, I was disarmed at the sight of pulled pork, my one true love, and I had little choice but to get it. I was quite pleased with my decision, though. Soft, warm biscuits were piled with the stuff of my dreams, then topped with a poached egg and a spicy (you can see the red flecks) hollandaise, like the evil twin of that perfectly refined classic, Eggs Benedict. The flavor of the hollandaise was divine; the egg was perfectly cooked (neither overbearingly runny nor, God forbid, too tough); and the pork was tender, savory but appropriately and approachably mild for brunch. The nail in the coffin was a side of collard greens that were so delightful and explosively flavorful with every bite that it felt like a trick. Those are vegetables?! I love the South.

Like any good breakfast joint (though I do say this as a very biased sweet tooth myself), Patois almost always has an option for those who just want to start off their day with something sweeter. Jenna opted for French toast with Ponchatoula strawberries and Creole cream cheese whipped cream (!!!) – Patois does a good job paying homage to locally grown products, as in my simple, radiant tomato salad of miracles. Anyway, they weren’t just name-dropping; I truly believe there couldn’t possibly have been a sweeter, juicier strawberry in or on top of this toast than those succulent Ponchatoula berries. Don’t believe me? Just look at those cooked berries on top and the cascade of potent berry juice tumbling over the edge. That is not a stain you could easily wash out of your white linen pants, and to me, that’s always a good thing. The Creole cream cheese in the whipped cream was a clever touch, as the cream cheese brought density to the otherwise sweet, billowy whipped cream.

This was a splendid brunch and a perfect way to start the Sunday (because who doesn’t like ending the weekend with a relaxed sating session?). Before I even toyed with food writing, I had an inedible tuna dish at Patois, but in the time since, I’ve found Patois to be much more hit than miss. The atmosphere, with its lofty ceilings and mirrored walls, still somehow manages to make you feel like you’re tucked away in a dining room that is familiar, hospitable, and fully conducive to celebration – be it a birthday, a friendship, or just a Sunday.