It’s always a quiet delight when a restaurant you’d mostly written off earns a second look. I’ve been to Chez Josephine a handful of times over the years, usually coaxed by a friend who loves their lobster salad. And I’ve never been much for the bistro genre—too many steak frites, niçoise salads, and forced joie de vivre.
Then came the lunch prix fixe.
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Chez Josephine. Photo credit: Chris Andoe.
For $30, I started with a beet salad, followed by Dover sole poached in a beurre monté with a lobster reduction that was shockingly good—refined, balanced, and quietly magnificent. That dish alone is worth the detour. It really should be paired with something more thoughtful—and lighter—than mashed potatoes, especially at lunch. But even so, it lingers in memory. Finish with a profiterole, and suddenly it’s Paris, 1937—if the Métro dropped you off at the Port Authority. Perfect for date night.
The wine list, like parts of the à la carte menu, is good but could be better. A little more thought—more range, more lift—and it would rise to match the room.
The à la carte offerings are more of a gamble, though they have their pleasures. The escargot is excellent, the lobster bisque lush and comforting, the duck solid. The lobster cassoulet, however, is more of a bouillabaisse with black beans—and as you might expect, it does not work. That said, the steak frites is surprisingly strong: classic, beautifully done, and also part of the prix fixe lineup.
The staff is lovely. The room is theater, in the best sense. And as the name would imply, Chez Josephine is a loving, theatrical homage to Josephine Baker. Be sure to take in the mural near the front—it’s joyful, celebratory, and just a little larger than life, like the restaurant itself.
It’s not perfect. But it’s warm, welcoming, and trying harder than most. And for a poached sole, a proper steak frites, and a room that knows who it’s honoring, that’s more than enough.
