Jolie, located on the ferry end of Orange Avenue, is generous in all the ways you might not expect. Self-identified as French-California coastal, Jolie — meaning “pretty” in French — is Chef Jason Witzl’s fifth concept. It began as a butchery with a six-item menu: oysters, crudo, scallops and a few salads. Executive Chef Jack Lee said the original intent was a simple spot for a bite and a glass of wine, but when local diners began ordering the entire menu, Jolie truly came to fruition.
The ambience is rather unassuming for a fine-dining restaurant. Grey hexagonal designs line pale walls. Metal rails hang on the ceiling, suggesting a garage door once operated there. Evading a traditional wine cellar, bottles sit on a simple metal rack. Some might mistake this industrial deconstruction for a lack of intention; others may find the stripped-back interior as a juxtaposition to the colorful dishes. If I were to make one request, it would be to keep the minimalism, but add mood lighting for coziness.
The menu is diverse: Steak frites, shrimp and melon and grilled prawns, to name a few. After receiving a generous pour of red wine from Bordeaux, I asked the server about her favorites and the menu’s inspiration. She answered as best she could but admitted the executive chef — who happened to be in the back that day — could describe the vision more articulately.
It turned out Lee was thrilled to talk, so much so he even politely asked if he could sit down. He made me feel like I was talking to an old friend: kind, hospitable and generous. He walked through each item, humbly praising Witzl, his mentor of eight years who launched Long Beach concepts including: Ellie’s, Lupe’s de la Mar and Ginger’s. He also won Chef of the Year at the San Diego Food and Wine Festival for his shrimp and melon salad.
Lee told me that Jolie sources menu items from various factions of the world: wagyu is from Creekstone Farms in Kansas; the salmon is wild-caught from Alaska; and the tiger prawns are imported from Nigeria. The sourcing may not be local, but the quality is crème de la creme.
The dish I was tasting at that moment was one of Lee’s favorites: Loup de Mer — literally meaning “wolf of the sea,” but in reality a type of European seabass. It was plated on a plain ceramic with a drizzle of red and green sauces swirled on and around. The seabass was light and delicate, as if just caught. It was coated with a cornbread crust — more subtle than a typical panko crust — and a caper and herb gremolata.
Gremolata is a Mediterranean take on Argentine chimichurri; it was citrusy and fresh, balancing the gritty cornbread. The soft crunch added texture, and the chili oil sparked a fire on my lips. The dish felt familiar yet innovative; I knew the zesty spice, but marrying it with chimichurri-style herbs and a subtle cornbread shell was a revelation. Perhaps, the chefs, rather than a calculated approach, have a more playful one to their cooking.
Before I could finish my last bite, another dish arrived — complementary. An amuse-bouche of sorts. And on the table before I could even protest, a luscious Peruvian scallop crudo sat before me, elevated on an ombré seashell floating atop a metallic bowl of ice. The scallop was cold and mildly sweet on my tongue. The chili oil paired with the stone fruit mignonette — a cut-up stone fruit—awakened my tastebuds with another citrus and spice pair.
(A brief aside: As I evolve in this column, I am still deciding whether I want to maintain anonymity as a diner or embrace these moments of direct connection with the kitchen. While I always pay for my selections to uphold journalistic ethics, when complimentary dishes are provided, they do not influence the objectivity of my review.)
Then came a second unprompted course from the chef: the 2023 award-winner of the San Diego Food & Wine Festival — the shrimp and melon. The ingredients themselves felt abundant; it was as if the chef had no inhibitions when it came to mixing different flavors. On the ash-gray plate sat a layer of crème fraîche, acting as a vehicle for the zippy and playful fruits and fruits de mer. Chunks of juicy orange cantaloupe and crisp cucumber were tossed with cuts of chilled, tender shrimp, all dressed in a citrusy vinaigrette. Shreds of mint crowned the top to complete the bright, airy profile, while crispy quinoa ever so slightly grounded the dish. Together with the crème fraîche, it evoked dreams of a Mediterranean summer. Immaculate.
Finally, dessert. The only offering on the menu is a vanilla ice cream topped with pistachios, an olive oil drizzle, and a light sprinkle of salt. The dry crunch of the pistachios was glossed with robust golden olive oil. The salt pulled the sweetness to the forefront. It all left me feeling fed.
Jolie is located at 126 Orange Ave. Unit B, Coronado, CA 92118. It is open Wednesday through Sunday 4 – 9 p.m.
