Citizen S.
Yelp
Krewe: A NOLA Mirage in the Heart of Minnesota
I walked into Krewe in St. Joseph, lured by the promise of a NOLA experience in the heartland of Minnesota. I've had my fair share of disappointments in establishments trying to replicate the authentic soul of far-off places, yet hope springs eternal.
The restaurant's ambiance was its first pitch: cool, perhaps overly so, thanks to the assertive air conditioning. One would hope that the warmth of New Orleans could permeate even a Minnesota evening. The place buzzes with excited patrons, and scanning the menu, the classics jumped out: gumbo, red beans and rice, crab cakes. It read like a love letter to New Orleans, but when they came, the dishes felt like they'd been written by someone who'd only heard tales of the place.
But Krewe's rendition felt like it was playing from sheet music without understanding the soul behind the notes. The hushpuppies, overcooked on the outside and uninspired within, were far from the rich, soulful flavors one associates with Creole cooking. The gumbo? More soup than a stew, a hurried concoction that missed the deep, simmered love of authentic gumbo. It had the consistency and depth of flavor of a rushed weeknight meal.
And the stinginess of the servings -- the laughably tiny pieces of bread served as a hold-me-over, for instance -- felt out of place in a narrative that should be about generosity and warmth.
In another diabolical offense, the rice in the red beans and rice felt like an afterthought -- an apathetic nod to the dish's namesake that was more garnish than a main component.
Service, unfortunately, was like being in a ghost story. Our server, more apparition than presence, seemed to drift through the evening, leaving my glass of Arnold Palmer perpetually empty. It's one thing to play hard to get, but this was straight-up neglect. The towering stack of dishes on our table grew taller but apparently less visible.
Krewe's story extends beyond just its food. The restaurant has claimed to champion diversity and racial justice, narratives that resonate deeply with today's ethos. Yet, a quick scan revealed a different tale -- of the 19 employees, a mere two were people of color. The visible reality seemed a tad off-key for an establishment that prides itself on celebrating inclusivity.
Chef Mateo Mackbee's credentials suggest a deep reverence for New Orleans culinary traditions, making it all the more baffling that Krewe seems to have missed the mark by such a margin. The restaurant's media footprint, coupled with its emphasis on diversity, sets up expectations that, regrettably, the current dining experience doesn't quite match up to.
In the end, Krewe is like a convincing movie set version of NOLA restaurants - especially the gentrified ones of recent years. But it's overpriced, too salty, and the portions look like a robbery. It all feels like a heartfelt song missing a few chords. It's an ambitious attempt, full of promise, but it leaves one wondering if it could truly sing with a bit more tuning.
