Dakar NOLA: Where Senegal Meets Creole—and Wins Big in 2024
Who: Food seekers craving refined global Creole–African tasting menus.
What: An intimate, curated multi-course dinner combining Senegalese and Louisiana flavors.
Where: Uptown, Magazine Street – a 5 to 10-min Uber from The Natchez.
When: Dinner service, Tuesday–Saturday, typically seating at 6:30 pm; 2–2.5 hr experience.
How much: Tasting menu: ~$150/person; wine pairing: ~$100; cocktails: $15–18.
When you walk into Dakar NOLA, you feel it instantly—that sense of being invited into something both intimate and profound. The 30-seat dining room on Magazine Street is elegant but unpretentious, with dark wood, cream-toned walls, and artful touches like Senegalese masks and sculpture. It feels like stepping into someone’s beautifully curated home—someone with impeccable taste and a deep, joyful story to tell.
That story belongs to Chef Serigne Mbaye and his partner Effie Richardson, who spent years perfecting their Senegal-meets-Louisiana tasting menu in pop-up kitchens before opening this permanent Uptown space in 2022. Mbaye trained in some of the best kitchens in the country—L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon in New York and Atelier Crenn in San Francisco—but what he’s doing here is far more personal. And the culinary world has taken notice: in 2024, Dakar took home the James Beard Foundation Award for Best New Restaurant in the country.
Dinner here is a tasting menu only, which might sound a little formal, but it’s anything but stiff. The atmosphere is relaxed and familial. Guests chat across tables. The staff is warm, gracious, and genuinely excited to talk about each dish. There’s a real sense of community here—of people sharing something special.
The drinks mirror that same spirit. The house cocktail, The Dakar, is a smooth mix of aged rum, lime, and orange bitters. Other drinks explore the tropics—rum, hibiscus, smoked maple, pineapple. A thoughtful European wine pairing is available, or you can opt for bissap (a hibiscus drink popular in West Africa) or fermented lemonade, both refreshing and unique.
And then comes the food—each course introduced with a bit of storytelling that deepens the experience. It all begins with a small cup of ataya, a fragrant Senegalese tea meant to awaken your palate. Then there’s the palm bread, airy and lightly sweet, served with a deeply spiced butter I could eat with a spoon. Rice plays a central role in the menu, as it should: “Whether in New Orleans or Dakar, you cook a pot of rice before you decide on dinner,” the menu notes.
Standout dishes include gulf shrimp in tamarind, a soupy, rich blend of crab and okra, and something called The Last Meal—a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the food created during the Middle Passage, transformed here into a dish of remembrance and power. Each plate arrives with context and care, never overly precious, always deeply satisfying.
I’ve had tasting menus that felt like culinary lectures—technically impressive but emotionally distant. Dakar is the opposite. It’s grounded in love, memory, and joy. The food is extraordinary, yes, but it’s the spirit of the place that stays with you. It’s the way the servers make you feel seen. The way the room buzzes with genuine connection. The way Chef Mbaye comes out to greet guests, his presence full of warmth and pride.
Tasting menus might not be for everyone—but at Dakar, you’ll find something deeper than fine dining. You’ll find a story told in courses, a gathering of neighbors and strangers sharing something unforgettable. And by the end of the night, you’ll understand why this small Uptown gem just might be the best new restaurant in America.