Dining Guide

One Fifth Gulf Coast

That canny Chris Shepherd. His experiment of five restaurants in five years in the same space has strengthened his brand and set the stage for spin-offs for the most successful versions. It’s early, but Gulf Coast seems a little weaker than the earlier entries. No complaints with the pile of hush puppies resting on a honey butter bed, with paper thin slices of ham mounded on the side. Popcorn Rock Shrimp were addictive little nuggets of lightly fried shrimp served alongside a cream sauce with a hint of popcorn flavor; Fried Shaved Catfish were basically tenders, their salty crunch playing off piquant pickled collards. But our roasted oysters topped with a smoked oyster dressing arrived in so much liquid that the dressing became unpleasantly soggy. We liked our Gulf catch of the day, seared snapper (wrongly described as a flounder by one server) with tasso and jalapeño corn chowder. Popcorn Rock Shrimp were addictive little nuggets of lightly fried shrimp served alongside a cream sauce with a hint of popcorn flavor; Fried Shaved Catfish were basically tenders, their salty crunch playing off piquant pickled collards. But our companion received an entrée not ordered, and when he finally got to enjoy his seared turkey breast stuffed with boudin (a slightly spicy, pretty roulade with chunks of sweet potatoes, cider-roasted apples, and cabbage shreds), he was dining alone. As always, the old-church setting is handsome, with a communal table, long bar, and soaring ceiling.