Catch a Flight with the Colonel

Storytelling and short ribs revive the Colonel's Club under the Overpass

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Memorable characters have haunted the sprawling restaurant under the overpass that Baton Rougeans will know by different names. When it came time for the property’s latest tenants to choose a mascot around which to center a revitalization, I can’t be too offended that this creative writing major scratching out bad poetry while scarfing down beer and cheese fries with her collegiate friends at Chelsea’s Cafe lost out to an aviating colonel with a penchant for doberman pinschers. 

The titular figure of the Colonel’s Club, which opened to the public earlier this fall, was also its original owner, dating back to 1936 before the overpass was even constructed. Over decades, Jesse Lee Sheppard, called “The Colonel” or “Shep,” operated the property as a private club in one evolution, and an airplane hangar (he flew Huey Long and Barry Seale), refrigeration school, and even a voting precinct in other iterations.

The property remains in the hands of his descendants, the Aucoin family, whose memories of Sheppard entranced Jordan Piazza, the restaurateur behind the new Colonel’s Club. “When we started hearing their stories about the colonel,” said Piazza, “we just knew we had to build things around him.”

Sheppard’s biography bounces up against imagined affectations in the design choices of Tiek ByDay, the local interior design firm Piazza engaged to invigorate the club. Doberman pinscher figurines abound. The bookshelves in the lounge/bar area are fully stocked with leather-bound law texts Sheppard did not own nor very likely read, but the little silver photo frames hold his real family portraits. The oil portraits on the wall are not his ancestors, but they do contribute to a clubby, refined atmosphere emphasized by the flame-licked logs in the large fireplace.

“I’m usually a micromanager,” said Piazza, “but here I knew the best thing to do was let Tiek run with it.” 

In the main restaurant, distinct zones break up a once-cavernous space and embellish the colonel’s story further, one of flight, fancy, and exploration. The warmth of blush-toned walls and lantern light fixtures is balanced by the cool emerald tile of the curved bar.

Narrow booths in an intimate alcove call to mind a railway club car, insulating passengers from the outside world while carrying them someplace new. Elsewhere, slate-blue walls and caned chairs, harp-like chandeliers and little lamps on each table, and gorgeously textured contemporary art all tempt eyes and fingertips. It’s easy to forget that you came here to eat.

But that you can do, and not just on special occasions, or as the member of an exclusive club. “We want this to be a neighborhood place,” said Piazza. He’s betting on the walkability improvements envisioned for the Overpass neighborhood and indeed invested in building out some of the area’s master plan, including new sidewalks, lighting, and expanded parking, in the process of renovating the Colonel’s Club. Eventually, residents of the Poets Corner, Hundred Oaks, and Garden District Neighborhoods will be able to walk or pedal a route other than the current path on narrow raised sidewalks flanking the overpass bridge.

The menu is similarly accessible in scale and price point for any outing, from a group lunch to an anniversary meal. Initial concepts were developed by Chef Jonathan Breaux, formerly of The Overpass Merchant, with further finessing delivered by Chef David Dickensauge, who remains on staff as a consulting chef. Dickensauge has worked around the world, from five-star restaurants in New York, to learning the art of the meatball in Italy. He’s been in the kitchens of numerous Baton Rouge restaurants, most recently Beausoleil, Pizza Art Wine, and Supper Club.

It’ll be hard to choose on the menu, but comforting to know you can return fairly often. You could go for the Richland Farm Bowl—named after the property’s historic identity predating the interstate and the colonel—and enjoy the nutritious benefits of its cauliflower, chickpeas, and brussels-and-kale slaw. There are a few nods to Piazza’s own heritage in The Italian sandwich and primi of burrata and meatballs. Global exploration hinted at by the finishes and furniture plays out in dishes like the Moroccan braised lamb shank, the spicy shrimp Calabrese, and the brussels sprouts with miso-honey butter, so addicting that I kept sneaking more. Even the short rib bolognese will tingle your tongue with a dash of Caribbean seasoning.

Piazza knows restaurants. As a kid, the best way he found quality time with his father Gus was at Phil’s Oyster Bar, which Gus purchased in 1975 and ran until 2007, when his declining health led him to close the business. On the oyster bar’s last night, one regular had forgotten to bring his wallet. Jordan, then in college, recalls telling the man not to worry about it. After all, the restaurant would be closing. A decade later, when Jordan and his brother Anthony sought to bring back their late father’s restaurant, Raising Cane’s founder Todd Graves had his recovered wallet ready to serve as an investor.

Piazza’s friendships with Graves and Walk-Ons co-founders Jack Warner and Brandon Landry have given him insight and direct job experience in fast-growing restaurant empires. At Colonel’s Club, you won’t find chicken tenders on the menu or a wall of TVs flashing touchdowns and box scores. But Piazza did glean ideas that translate into his restaurants’ cozier environments, from repetition and consistency to a teamwork mentality. “Both of those places just have a great culture. My takeaway was, you have to have a purpose, you’ve got to be passionate, and you’ve got to put together a good team. And another thing, both parties I believe spent the money to do it the right way, where other people might have cut corners. I think when you spend the money, it's a greater risk obviously. But they spend the money to make it something different. So, I think that's what we did here and that's why it's so far translated to success.” 

thecolonelsclub.com.