Going to pieces: the Wagyu steak at Piece of Meat
Piece of Meat
One thing’s for sure, you’re not mistaking this place for a vegan poke restaurant or a juice bar. Nothing like stating your intent very clearly via your establishment’s name, and this is about as informative as it gets. No-one’s coming here for the salad bar.
Owners butcher Leighann Smith and Daniel Jackson have already won lashings of acclaim for their butcher’s shop and counter spot, now parlayed very impressively into a full-service eatery. They’ve already racked up local and national awards, and so their restaurant chops (pun very much intended) are really beyond reproach.
The meat cleaver-shaped door handle is a not-too-subtle hint as to how seriously they take their craft here, but it’s far from intimidating. The carefully-curated, contemporary rustic ambience comes via exposed beams and polished darkwoods that help stylishly straddle the look of a traditional steakhouse and a modern restaurant. There’s also a cheeky, wild-west undercurrent with the font and also the huge cattle skull that hangs over the dining room.
We’re dining here on a Sunday evening, sat between two large family groups, all having an absolute whale of a time, and young couples hunkering down for date night, some of them notably food-curious given their interactions with the servers. Everyone from the six year-olds, gleefully digging into their mashed potatoes to the guests checking the provenance of their beef were happy, which I’d venture is a great sign that you’re doing things right.
The bar team are having fun with the cocktail list, too, from the Berry Nice Daiquiri to the Don’t Lillet Me Down and the Jessica Walter (R.I.P. to a great actor, rightfully immortalized here). Rich flavors that stand up to the rigors of a meat-forward menu are rife, with pineapple habanero moscatel sherry in the mix as well as house-infused spirits and plenty of lighter notes for those long Louisiana summers. There’s a healthy selection of wines by the glass, including Uruguayan and esoteric French vineyards, with riojas and pino noirs to do some heavy lifting with the steaks.
Before we even get to the food, the focaccia comes out with a beef tallow candle that melts into a herby butter - an inventive touch that is instantly charming. We order impossibly delicate and creamy smoked redfish rangoons, and St Louis Ribs that deliver a nuanced, complex flavor profile as opposed to the sauce-drenched plates you might be served elsewhere. There’s also watermelon or roasted beet salads if you’re saving yourself for the entrees.
Nobody could blame you, given the quality on display. My friend, a snobby, steak connoisseur, declares the Mishima Wagyu Bavette one of the most beautiful cuts she’s ever tasted, while my Home Place Pasture Pork Chop is seasoned and tender in a way I was still thinking about the next day. The Million Dollar Mashed Potatoes - loaded with herbed tallow, crispy ribeye bits and more - clearly delight everyone that orders them, and the broccoli florets come alive in their parmesan and Caesar dressing. In short: it’s a carnivorous triumph.
The servers were bubbly and knowledgeable, full of recommendations and knowing exactly how much attention to deliver - not an easy feat in a busy, mixed party dining room. They know precise details about the meat preparation and presentation, and you never feel like you’re in anything but good hands.
You could definitely head here for a special occasion, the steak cuts throughout menu ascending in quality to truly special dishes. But even the more regular entrees - the prime filet and the pork chop - are prepared with obvious care and attention to detail, so that even a standard-issue Sunday date night is going to be memorable.
It’s one of those restaurants where it’s very clear that everyone knows what they’re doing, but they have no interest in lording that over the guest, and instead they want to welcome you into this world they’ve created, and savor their expertise. Eat a piece, peace out.
Paul Oswell
Piece of Meat Website
One thing’s for sure, you’re not mistaking this place for a vegan poke restaurant or a juice bar. Nothing like stating your intent very clearly via your establishment’s name, and this is about as informative as it gets. No-one’s coming here for the salad bar.
Owners butcher Leighann Smith and Daniel Jackson have already won lashings of acclaim for their butcher’s shop and counter spot, now parlayed very impressively into a full-service eatery. They’ve already racked up local and national awards, and so their restaurant chops (pun very much intended) are really beyond reproach.
The meat cleaver-shaped door handle is a not-too-subtle hint as to how seriously they take their craft here, but it’s far from intimidating. The carefully-curated, contemporary rustic ambience comes via exposed beams and polished darkwoods that help stylishly straddle the look of a traditional steakhouse and a modern restaurant. There’s also a cheeky, wild-west undercurrent with the font and also the huge cattle skull that hangs over the dining room.
We’re dining here on a Sunday evening, sat between two large family groups, all having an absolute whale of a time, and young couples hunkering down for date night, some of them notably food-curious given their interactions with the servers. Everyone from the six year-olds, gleefully digging into their mashed potatoes to the guests checking the provenance of their beef were happy, which I’d venture is a great sign that you’re doing things right.
The bar team are having fun with the cocktail list, too, from the Berry Nice Daiquiri to the Don’t Lillet Me Down and the Jessica Walter (R.I.P. to a great actor, rightfully immortalized here). Rich flavors that stand up to the rigors of a meat-forward menu are rife, with pineapple habanero moscatel sherry in the mix as well as house-infused spirits and plenty of lighter notes for those long Louisiana summers. There’s a healthy selection of wines by the glass, including Uruguayan and esoteric French vineyards, with riojas and pino noirs to do some heavy lifting with the steaks.
Before we even get to the food, the focaccia comes out with a beef tallow candle that melts into a herby butter - an inventive touch that is instantly charming. We order impossibly delicate and creamy smoked redfish rangoons, and St Louis Ribs that deliver a nuanced, complex flavor profile as opposed to the sauce-drenched plates you might be served elsewhere. There’s also watermelon or roasted beet salads if you’re saving yourself for the entrees.
Nobody could blame you, given the quality on display. My friend, a snobby, steak connoisseur, declares the Mishima Wagyu Bavette one of the most beautiful cuts she’s ever tasted, while my Home Place Pasture Pork Chop is seasoned and tender in a way I was still thinking about the next day. The Million Dollar Mashed Potatoes - loaded with herbed tallow, crispy ribeye bits and more - clearly delight everyone that orders them, and the broccoli florets come alive in their parmesan and Caesar dressing. In short: it’s a carnivorous triumph.
The servers were bubbly and knowledgeable, full of recommendations and knowing exactly how much attention to deliver - not an easy feat in a busy, mixed party dining room. They know precise details about the meat preparation and presentation, and you never feel like you’re in anything but good hands.
You could definitely head here for a special occasion, the steak cuts throughout menu ascending in quality to truly special dishes. But even the more regular entrees - the prime filet and the pork chop - are prepared with obvious care and attention to detail, so that even a standard-issue Sunday date night is going to be memorable.
It’s one of those restaurants where it’s very clear that everyone knows what they’re doing, but they have no interest in lording that over the guest, and instead they want to welcome you into this world they’ve created, and savor their expertise. Eat a piece, peace out.
Paul Oswell
Piece of Meat Website