
MIAMI
Claudie Miami Review: Escargot, Loup de Mer, and the South of France in Brickell
$$$$$ | ★★★★★
Written by Brandon Chase | June 14, 2025
AUTHOR BIO: Brandon Chase is a Miami personal injury attorney who has a deep knowledge of wine and food, built by marrying into an Italian family. Email him here.
I’ve spent enough evenings dining in Miami to know when a restaurant isn’t just another pretty room with good food. Claudie, the latest stunner from the owners of MILA and Casa Neos, does more than dress nice—it catapults you to a sun-splashed table overlooking the Côte d’Azur, somehow tucked into the gleaming core of Brickell.
Opened in February, Claudie lands with the elegance of a St. Tropez supper club but with a wink. It’s all white tablecloths, amber-glow arches, rattan chairs, and a sprawling terrace fountain flanked by bronze statues modeled after iconic French handbags—yes, handbags. Somehow, it works. Somehow, it feels chic, not kitschy. A little surreal, a little playful, and very on-brand for a place that serves chilled glasses of rosé like water.
Salad niçoise
The vibe is Riviera all the way. Paper lanterns hang like soft moons, warm brass glints off tabletops, and there’s the rustle of linen in the breeze. And then there’s the food—what they’re calling “cuisine du soleil,” Mediterranean cooking bathed in sunlight and olive oil.
We started with escargot, rich with garlicky butter and tucked into its shell, served with warm, crusty sourdough for unapologetic dipping. Then came a tuna tartare that looked like a work of abstract art—ruby-red cubes of tuna layered with diced zucchini, dressed in dill oil, and accompanied by potato gaufrettes so perfectly crisp they doubled as edible canvases. Each chip became a crunchy, briny bite of summertime.
Escargot
Then came the showstopper: a whole loup de mer, presented and filleted tableside with the kind of confidence that draws neighboring glances. Not a bone in sight. A bright, citrusy sauce vierge was spooned over the top—acidic, herbaceous, flawless. Alongside, a decadent truffle macaroni: studded with cubes of smoky ham and crowned with generous shavings of fresh truffle. It was the kind of side dish that quietly steals the spotlight.
Tuna tartare
Loup de mer
We ended with a classic chocolate mousse—deep, dark, and just airy enough to be dangerously easy to finish. No gimmicks. Just pleasure.
Chocolate mousse
And maybe that’s Claudie’s trick. Beneath the elegance and attention to detail is a restaurant that simply gets it right. Brickell may buzz outside, but in here, you're in the South of France—with better weather and stronger cocktails.