Goodenough Supper Club

Hands down the most memorable dinner we had on our entire trip. Our group of six is still talking about the experience and the gumbo now that we're all back home. Go in hungry because there is a LOT of food. The dishes were amazing and the menu well thought out, everything had a story to it and I feel like that just added to the fun while we ate. Highlights were obviously the gumbo, the crab cakes, and my personal favorite was the pumpernickle panzenella. Everything is either made in house or sourced locally so it really adds to how very New Orleans the whole meal felt. We did share a table with another party of 4 and had a great time with them, I sat on the border and had a lot of fun chatting with them and sharing their end of the communal dishes. I already come from a culture where things are served family style so it didn't feel unusual for me and our tablemates made it really easy. I'd also like to mention Emily who was our host, she's awesome! Her explanation of each dish was detailed and she was amazing at answer any questions we had about the dishes or the restaurant. She made it feel like eating at a friend's house. She was even kind enough to give me a to-go cup for a rootbeer float before we left for our next stop. I'll definitely be telling friends to make a reservation if they're ever in town and I will definitely be going back.

Wow. We saw some mixed reviews and were hesitant to spend the money for an unknown, but we ended up getting a day-of reservation and being so happy we did. The communal dining was very fun, everyone chatted and got to know each other easily. The food being served family style really elevated the communal feeling between us all and it was a night filled with getting to know strangers over delicious food. The lost gumbo was mind blowing good, the food seemed to just. keep. coming. The drinks were delicious (great wine, too!) and everyone who worked there was funny and nice but not overwhelming. Honestly, if you're on the fence: do it. Here's a few dishes, but leaving some off to keep the mystery and surprise of it all alive.

The Mosquito Supper Club is a must when visiting New Orleans!!! The place was very cute and quaint, the ambiance was a very chill laid back vide. The staff was super friendly and very knowledgeable about the food and wine/cocktails. Every bite was perfectly curated and delightful. I really enjoyed the family style and the opportunity to sit with and meet and mingle with other guests. What a gem of a place. Thank you!

Everything was absolutely excellent. We sat at the communal dining table and met some lovely people over an amazing meal. The staff (Daniel, Emily, and Jake) were so friendly and knowledgeable. Every recipe has a rich history and philosophy behind it. Wonderful ambience and incredible food, can only recommend!

Here’s the thing about Mosquito Supper Club: the food is really good. At times, it’s exceptional. The crawfish bisque with stuffed heads is the kind of dish that reminds you why New Orleans cooking matters. The pickled shrimp were bright and precise; the panzanella and stuffed crab genuinely excellent. And the wine pairings? They’re not just good — they’re the best part of the night. The problem is that Mosquito Supper Club isn’t really selling you dinner. It’s selling you a communal experience. And ours just didn’t work. We were seated with two other parties, and the table never came together. Some guests stayed in their own conversations, others didn’t quite engage with the format, and the shared nature of the meal broke down quickly — uneven portions, awkward pacing, and no real sense of cohesion. At times, people were serving themselves before dishes were introduced, taking disproportionate portions (ten biscuits for ten people and the guy across from me immediately takes 2) and disrupting the flow of the courses. At a traditional restaurant, that’s background noise. Here, it is the experience. And that’s where the restaurant loses control. At a concept built entirely around communal dining, the staff has to actively host the table — not just serve it. That means setting expectations early, pacing and portioning with intention, and stepping in when the dynamic starts to drift. None of that happened. The sommelier was fine, the server knew the menu, but no one took ownership of the room. There were also smaller misses that reinforce the same point: a raw mollusk allergy flagged at booking went unacknowledged when raw oysters were served; a birthday noted at check-in was never mentioned again. Individually minor. Collectively, they suggest a hands-off approach to hospitality that doesn’t fit the concept. At $300 per person, you’re not just paying for great food — you’re paying for a curated experience. The kitchen delivers. The wine program over-delivers. But the experience itself is left to chance, entirely dependent on who you’re seated with and whether the staff chooses to guide the room. That’s an unnecessary gamble at this price point.