All photos courtesy of Le Pavillon.
Le Pavillon's newly refreshed lobby bar, Cachette 1907—which hearkens back to prohibition days of hidden, underground libations
In one of my earliest memories of New Orleans, I was around twelve years old—there on a special trip with my grandmother, my aunt, and three of my cousins. My grandmother had written out a very detailed itinerary for all of the things we had to do, all of the places we had to hit—and most importantly—all of the food we had to try: Sunday jazz brunch at the Court of Two Sisters, fine dining at Commander’s, a muffuletta at Central Grocery. Also on that list was a late-night stroll to a grand, grand hotel with a fancy French name. We walked up the steps, through the imposing front doors, and made our way—dazzled by the massive, glittering chandeliers above our heads—to a culinary spread of dreams: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches of every variety—crunchy, smooth, strawberry, grape—all decadently arranged with glasses of ice cold milk and piping hot chocolate.
Over a decade later, I found myself back in that magical lobby, a few hours early for the nightly PB&J, but just in time to indulge in Le Pavillon’s newest culinary traditions at the invitation of the hotel. The storied Le Pavillon—acclaimed as an international destination of luxury and taste for over a century—looks to the future with recent renovations that reimagine classic grandeur, seamlessly blending the building’s historic architecture with contemporary design in its suites, as well as its restaurant, Bijoux, and its distinctive lobby area.
Sitting at the vintage Brunswick mahogany lobby bar, dubbed Cachette 1907, my friend Anne Christian and I perused the new hand-crafted cocktail menu. The bar’s name translates to English as “Hideout,” with 1907 hearkening back to the hotel’s original opening as the New Denechaud Hotel. Six years later, new owners renamed it the DeSoto Hotel. In the next decade, during the Prohibition era, records indicate that a highly selective group of New Orleans leaders and members of high society had access to a secret tunnel, which ran half a block away from the hotel to a building where VIPs could hide out.
In Pavillon's signature restaurant, guests dine under a massive Czechoslovakian chandelier upon the decadent French cuisine of Chef Derek McKenna.
No need for aliases and underground tunnels these days—though the more posh and exclusive vibes of the speakeasy have certainly prevailed at Cachette 1907. Blue marbled walls are adorned with a 17th century painting of the “Duchess of Chievenon,” and at the lobby’s center hangs one of the gargantuan crystal chandeliers for which the hotel is so well known.
Along with the obligatory touchstones of a classy New Orleans spirit-space—Aviation, Manhattan, Old Fashioned, Sazerac, Vieux Carré—Cachette 1907 offers an intriguing list of specialty concoctions, designed by each of the bar’s creative tender’s themselves. Tabitha Foret invited us to try her contribution to the menu, the Première Classe—a delicate twist on the Old Fashioned that trades traditional bitters for Averna Amaro and Aperol Apéritif, with an orange juice flourish as a sweetener.
[Read this: New Orleans' N7 offers a proper cross-section of France without the jetlag]
Upon the first sip, Anne Christian—an Old Fashioned devotee—turned to Foret as though she’d offered her a drop of the fountain of youth itself. “This is it,” she told her. The intricate coalescence of citrus, sweet, and bitter flavors drew out a lighter, more balanced experience of Bullet Bourbon than I had ever encountered. The drink felt like serious, unfrilly business, but also airy and delicate—certainly helped by its being served in a martini glass with edible gold leaf floating on top.
In the meantime, small plates of truffle-parmesan fries were being passed around alongside bits of compressed watermelon & frisée salad—samples from the menu of Le Pavillon’s new signature restaurant, Bijoux. The restaurant, helmed by award-winning Chef Derek McKenna, offers traditional New Orleans French cuisine with an emphasis on fresh ingredients and McKenna’s specialties in butchery and sauces. Breakfast and lunch are served to guests and the public inside the recently-renovated restaurant, under yet another massive Czechoslovakian chandelier, but dinner is served here, in Cachette 1907.
The second time the server came around, the dish he carried elicited a raised eyebrow from me and essentially an “Oooh, sparkly” from Anne Christian. Gold dusted chicken wings. Skeptical though I was—I mean, gold isn’t good on everything—it was evident that there was true craft behind McKenna’s version of this barfood staple, and that its elevation did not rest only upon its shiny thingness. Brined for twelve hours, the chicken was tender and full of flavor, enhanced by a honey glaze and cilantro-lime vinaigrette. With gold-embossed fingertips—a step or two above Cheeto dust—I gladly nibbled on a second.
Ready for another cocktail, I eyed the “Dealer’s Choice” section of the menu, which invited patrons to select their spirit, their flavor profile (smoky, fruity, sour, strong, bitter, floral, or spicy), and their glassware (rocks, champagne flute, martini, or pint). The skilled bartenders would then whip up a specialty just-for-you cocktail, and if it’s a real hit, it might even end up on the menu. Opting to stay within spirits, I challenged Foret with a smoky whiskey in a martini glass. The result: a Maker’s Vanilla Bean mingling with smoky scotch salt around the rim. As for Anne Christian, well, after agonizing over the menu—considering, perhaps, the “Lavender Lady” or the “Garden District Mother-in-Law”—she settled on a second Première Classe, saying “You just don’t get drinks this good every day, you know?”
Le Pavillon Hotel
833 Poydras Street
New Orleans, La.
.jpg)