Blackened Out

The Delachaise

2012-01-26T06:40:00.000-08:00

French fries at The Delachaise.

Wine bars are an anomaly to many people, including myself. We want our lives to be easily defined and compartmentalized, and most wine bars are neither. So when deciding where to go for dinner on a Friday night and someone suggests The Delachaise, the next question is usually: "Is that a bar or a restaurant?"

To me Delachaise is a bar, although one that serves excellent french fries. The long, narrow space which widens as it progresses further away from St. Charles streetcar tracks reminds me of a wine bar on Isle St. Louis or in the Marais. The decor is raffish - stools and benches with unsecured cushions, plywood underneath the bar, and stacks of wine crates impeding traffic to the restroom. On the wall behind the bar are chalkboards listing every food and drink offering, while Christmas lights illuminate the rest of the room. It's charm is in its imperfections.

The Boz sandwich.

Most are familiar with the story of how Chef Chris Debarr gained a cult following for serving creative and unexpected dishes from the tiny kitchen at Delachaise. Chef Chris has of course moved on to The Green Goddess, but his legacy is still evident in the eclectic menu where Moroccan chicken tagine lives comfortably alongside smoked Salmon johnny cakes and an upscale grilled cheese sandwich.

Even though the Delachaise is a bar, you can still eat dinner here, and I almost always do. The most daunting task between you and dinner may be securing a table when it's crowded, and it almost always is, as I learned on a recent Wednesday night. The best strategy is to divide and conquer. Dispatch one or two members of your party to the bar to secure a bottle of wine and glasses while the rest scope out the lay of the land and try to figure out where to sit. Once you have secured seating, head back to the bar to order food. After taking your order, the bartender will ask where you are sitting, you will point to a general area, he will nod his head in affirmation, and somehow your food always safely arrives at your table. I am always paranoid that instead of table numbers the servers employ colorful descriptions such as "guy in blue oxford who outkicked his coverage."

Flank steak bruschetta.

The menu offers plenty to snack on if your main motivation is imbibing. I thought the $16 cheese plate was a tad expensive but really enjoyed all of the selections in the trio as well as the accouterments of spiced pecans and thinly sliced apple. The french fries really are excellent. Fried in goose fat (though that flavor was lost on me), the crispy fries of medium thickness and varying length are served with a malt vinegar aioli and spicy satay for dipping. Don't be surprised if you find yourself digging into the bottom of the wax paper cone to fish out the last one. For carnivores, the trio of flank steak bruschetta ($10) is a good choice, though the quality has varied. On one visit, we were presented with overcooked beef overpowered by the Peruvian garlic sauce. A week later, the same dish featured perfectly cooked wide, rosy red slices of beef double stacked upon bread smeared with the perfect amount spread.

Gnocchi with pork ragu.

Those hungrier souls can partake in more conventional menu selections. Perhaps a daily special of large, soft (maybe too soft) gnocchi was topped with an acidic pork ragu and griddled manchego, which was an unnecessary addition. An everday choice of twice cooked pork was crispy, but a little dry, which made the orange mojo sauce a nice touch. Sandwiches include the Boz, a rich trio of St. Andre cheese, Tuscan ham, and arugula on ciabatta. The Anabella grilled cheese is even richer, but a dip in the tomato soup - not too sweet or too spicy, with a mellowed acidic taste - helped balance the flavors.

The bar has a very deep wine list, including 58 selections by the glass and $5 daily wine specials - 1 red, 1 white, and 1 sparkling. Unfortunately, none of the reds offered by the glass and very few of the reds sold by the bottle are temperature controlled. This is a personal crusade that I will continue. If you paid $55 for an entree, would you be mad if it was served luke warm? The same standard should apply to wine.

Service is usually a point of contention when discussing The Delachaise. I will admit that the manager/bartender with the French accent can be rather brusque and unpleasant, although I have not seen him express that attitude toward patrons who lack a Y chromosome. All of the other staff though have always been friendly, helpful, and accomodating. And after a rather snarky exchange at the bar one night, Frenchie and I shared gratutious words on the patio as he helped bus our table. Forgiveness is a virtue.

While rereading this post before publishing, I asked myself: "It seems that you could not say one good thing about Delachaise without mentioning an aspect which you did not care for." And that may be true. But the most important question is this: Do I enjoy myself while there? And when it comes to grabbing a glass of wine, a bite to eat, and maybe sitting outside when the weather is nice, Delachaise is one of my top choices in the city.

The Delachaise - Par/Birdie
3442 St. Charles Ave
(504) 895-0858
Open Daily 5:00pm till

Zimmern and Tooker Team Up To Battle Fast Food Fueled Aliens

2012-01-25T07:11:00.000-08:00

Or something like that.

For a while there, a visit to the Crescent City Farmer's Market at the American Can Company was a mainstay on my weekly calendar. Usually by Thursday, the cupboards and fridge were running a little bare, and a quick trip to the market to pick up something to cook and a bottle of wine made perfect sense. For one reason or another, those visits waned in frequency before ultimately stopping. Which reminds me, I need to start doing that again.

Tomorrow at the Mid-City location of the Crescent City Farmers Market, Andrew Zimmern and Poppy Tooker will be demoing shrimp etouffee. Their delicious dish will be available with a donation to the Crescent City Farmers Market Community Programming Fund. The fun starts at 3 p.m. More info in an officially looking statement.

What: Join James Beard Award-winning TV food personality Andrew Zimmern of the Travel Channel's "Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern" and MSN's new "Appetite for Life with Andrew Zimmern," and WWNO "Louisiana Eats!" host Poppy Tooker as they cook up shrimp etouffee for the crowd at the Mid-City location of the Crescent City Farmers Market (3700 Orleans Ave, in the parking lot of the American Can Apartments) Thursday, January 26, beginning at 3pm. Tastes of the authentic New Orleans dish will be given in exchange for contributions in any amount to support community programming at the Crescent City Farmers Market. Watch Zimmern and Tooker shop for ingredients directly from local farmers and fishers at the market, then learn how to make the iconic dish. The free event will be recorded for an upcoming episode of the new MSN web series "Appetite for Life with Andrew Zimmern" and Poppy Tooker's "Louisiana Eats!" radio program on WWNO 89.9FM.
Who: Travel Channel's "Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern" & WWNO's "Louisiana Eats!" Poppy Tooker
When: 3:00-5:00pm, Thursday, January 26th, 2012
Where: Crescent City Farmers Market, 3700 Orleans Ave., in the parking lot of the American Can Apartments
What: a cooking demonstration and sampling of shrimp etouffee during a taping for MSN's new web series "Appetite for Life with Andrew Zimmern" and WWNO "Louisiana Eats!" interview with Zimmern and host Poppy Tooker; samples will be given in exchange for contributions in any amount to support community programming at the Crescent City Farmers Market.

K-Paul's: Is It Worth It?

2012-01-24T07:11:00.000-08:00

The dish which made Paul Prudhomme a legend: Blackened fish, here drum, with crabmeat.

The first cookbook I ever received was Chef Paul Prudhomme's Pure Magic cookbook. It came, as I can remember, in a box with a set of four Magic Seasonings Blends. This may seem like a strange Christmas gift for a twelve year old, but I was a strange twelve year old. That cookbook got a heavy workout for the next few months and the Magic Seasonings went on everything. As you are no doubt aware, Prudhomme is a giant in the American food world. He is largely responsible for making the cuisine and techniques of Southwest Louisiana household recipes. It is to his credit, or blame, that restaurants around the world serve Cajun chicken breasts and blackened tofu.

The restaurant which vaulted him to fame, K-Paul's Louisiana Kitchen, is located on a hidden-in-plain sight block of Chartres Street, across the way from the Louisiana Supreme Court. A call last Friday afternoon, yielded a table for two in the upstairs of the restaurant, tucked away into a corner, and located near one of the large windows. The menu is large, a relic of culinary history, with descriptions that run longer than a Kenyan marathoner. The room is largely brick and ornamented with the artwork of George Rodrigue. There is a well-studied wine list and a good vibe in both dining rooms, as comfort and dining meld together.

First up, the bread basket. Yeast rolls, a cornbread, a jalapeno yeast roll, and a molasses corn bread were sufficient, but the molasses one was difficult to chew- either stale or overcooked, we couldn't discern which. Chicken and andouille gumbo is as good as you would imagine: dark, rich, and chock full of the namesake ingredients. Perhaps better was Lindsay's greens and ham soup. The broth had ceased to be liquid and transformed into a thick porridge of delicious greens. The hambone brought to the soup a well-needed dose of salt. This was delicious soup - too bad we have only had three days of proper soup weather this winter.

If time machines were legal, I'd like to travel back in time and stop whoever convinced fine dining restaurants to serve salads with dressing on the side. This is such a waste of lettuce and more importantly, their creamy, potent green onion dressing. Until Congress makes time machines legal, restaurants please stop doing this. It kills the salad, resulting in greens that are either overdressed or underdressed. And finally, anyone who orders dressing on the side ends up eating the whole damn ramekin anyway.

After a wait long enough to notice that enough time had elapsed between courses, a runner ran out two plates of food to the table next to us. They looked suspiciously like our order. After a few moments, the couple remarked to one another, "This doesn't look like what we ordered." Sure enough they had received our order. Imagine two tables in a restaurant furtively looking for a waiter or bus boy to alert them to a mistake. Then imagine about five more minutes elapsing before someone comes over. Than imagine, a waiter simply taking the plates off one table and putting them onto your table. If that happens at Parkway, ok. But with entree prices in the mid thirties, there is a level of service one expects. Unfortunately, these sort of things can derail a meal.

As for the entrees, nothing was bad. Except the mashed potatoes on Lindsay's plate, which had the texture of wallpaper paste. They had cooled by the time they got to our table, the butter and starch of the potatoes turning into glue. Lindsay's blackened drum was delicious and moist, but with a less than acceptable smattering of crabmeat. My paneed rabbit was well-seasoned and crusty. A touch dry, a sauce would have gone a long way to making that dish sing. Another element of the plate, jambalaya suffered the opposite fate. I have never had Creole sauce on jambalaya. Perhaps it is some traditional accompaniment. Perhaps I am out of my element, but on the jambalaya, it was a disaster. We each got the 1990's medley of sauteed vegetables, but nothing wrong with that.

The waitress attempted to make up for the entree screw up by delivering a jar of Magic Seasonings Blends with the check. But by then, my mind was made up. Paul Prudhomme is a legend, a great deliverer, interpreter, and ambassador of Cajun culture. His books and products are wonderful and a welcome addition to your collections. His cooking shows are a downright pleasure. But, a trip to his restaurant, you can skip.

K-Paul's Louisiana Kitchen - Feel free to skip.

416 Chartres Street

596-2530

Deli Lunch Tues.-Sat. 11:00 am - 2:00 pm

Dinner Mon.- Sat. 5:30 pm - 10:00 pm

The Best Little Mexican Joint in Lakeview

2012-01-23T06:40:00.000-08:00

Last year Lakeview added not one but two Mexican restaurants along the Harrison Avenue corridor with the debut of the Velvet Cactus and the opening of the second location of El Gato Negro. The appeal of this type of food in a neighborhood full of young families makes perfect sense. First and foremost, the prices are cheap. Second, the process of eating chips and salsa can keep children placated for a remarkably long time. As long as the server keeps refilling the baskets with tortilla chips, kids will keep on dipping and eating. As long as the kids are eating, the less likely they will be to cause a scene. And the less likely that the kids are to cause a scene, the more liberties that mommy and daddy have to enjoy that extra cerveza or margarita.

Sidenote: I believe that I just wrote Chapter 1 of the Blackened Out Guide to Better Parenting.

And not only are the Velvet Cactus and El Gato Negro family friendly, the surroundings are sleek enough (flat screen TVs and outdoor seating) and the menus creative enough (pineapple cilantro margaritas) to offer an experience more unique and more local than the average run-of-the-mill Mexican joint.

But for those whose priority is finding the most authentic and best tasting Mexican fare in Lakeview, I implore you to shun the crowds and the hype of everything new and pretty and make your way to Salsas Por El Lago.

Well, technically it's located in West End, not Lakeview, but it's 70124 all the same.

Fish taco with Mexican tartar sauce at Salsas Por El Lago.

The Folk Singer and I love this place, and we try to spread the gospel every chance we get. A few weeks ago I directed a group of co-workers to Salsas for a Friday lunch away from the office. Upon our arrival (and through the end of our meal), our group of 8 made up 50% of the total number of occupied seats in the restaurant. There is always some hesitation when dining in an empty restaurant, but those pre-conceptions were quickly erased after we went through countless baskets of tortilla chips (effective in placating both children AND adults) and a half dozen bowls of the house made salsas named after the characters in Shrek. My favorite is still "The Dip" - the smooth puree of avocado and sour cream with plenty of cilantro - but the tomato-based Fiona is deliciously fresh and spicy.

Torta and tamale at Salsas Por El Lago.

Then came forth a sampling of almost the entire menu. Tacos filled with a wide array of meats, the best being the barbacoa (tender, lip smacking shreds of beef cheek) and chicharron (rich, flabby, fatty pork skin). Flash fried fingers of tilapia are paired with spicy Mexican tartar sauce augmented with diced jalapeno. Tamales - an everyday special - are stuffed with pork and served alongside a cup of thin, warm tomato sauce.

Entomatadas at Salsas Por El Lago.

My favorite dish on the menu is one which can be found on the specials board. Entomatadas may not be a familiar name, but the end dish is easily recognizable as a derivation from classic enchiladas. Corn tortillas get a quick dip in hot oil before being bathed in a mild tomato sauce, double rolled, and filled with cheese and softened onion. A trio of these are then covered in more sauce and a heavy hand of more cheese before getting the broiler treatment and a finishing of sour cream. A delicious dish to be avoided by the lactose intolerant.

The menu is not flawless in execution. Instead of serving fresh local fish, the kitchen uses frozen tilapia. The meat to bread ratio in the torta tilts too far in favor of the latter; same goes for the burrito. The chorizo queso was too thin for my liking. Even considering these minor complaints, the food is still worth returning for time and again.

On every occasion that I have dined at Salsas, there have never been more than a handful of other diners in the room, while a mile or so away the crowds wait 30 minutes for a table on a Friday night. I understand the draw of a restaurant which is both family friendly and lively enough to play host to the weekly meeting of the "Real Housewives of Metairie" - actual words used by a table full of middle-aged women referring to themselves (without a hint of irony) on a recent Saturday afternoon at the Velvet Cactus. But if you are ever in the mood for the best Mexican food in Lakeview regardless of atmosphere, then head to the old Ground Pati.

Salsas Por El Lago - Birdie
124 Lake Marina Drive
(504) 286-3057
Mon-Sat: Lunch & Dinner

Cafe du Monde: Is It Worth It?

2012-01-19T07:11:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I found myself with two kids under seven in my house for an extended period of time (read here: longer than an hour). No, a girlfriend from long ago didn't show up with a surprise. And no, they were not part of some elaborate Blackened Out International Loomers Child Labor scheme. They were in fact my nephews and I was babysitting.

Sunday morning awoke bright, clear with the first cold snap of the year, when the temperature despite only being in the low 70s is downright frigid. One of the nephews asked me if we could go "to the place with the bennies." So off we went to Cafe du Monde. Although it was just before nine a.m., a line was already out the main entrance and halfway to the Moonwalk. Pro Tip: There is a separate line for take out orders. However, this line is twice as long and twice as slow as just waiting to sit down. Avoid it.

After a twenty minute wait, we snagged an open table covered in the detritus of a previous beignet binge. In no time a waitresses, her Vietnamese complexion a few shades lighter than the cafe au lait she ferries about, wiped the table clean while taking our order. The wait staff at Cafe du Monde is nimble and quick, able to juggle multiple orders, change requests, and the demands of a fast paced restaurant. Cirque du Soleil meets the cafe. When you order beignets (which come three to an order), you would do best to order one more plate than you think you need. It will save you trouble later on down the road.

Despite the crowds and hassle, time spent at Cafe du Monde is time well-spent. For the eyes an ever evolving feast of people watching unfolds in front of you- in one corner a young family, the parents hungover, the kids incredulous that they are getting to eat sugar for breakfast, the other table has two elderly tourists just in from Minnetonka and adorned with money belts, conference badges, and guide books, over back there is that girl "what's her name, you went to school with her brother" and her two kids with a third on the way. Sit at Cafe du Monde long enough and you will run into everyone you know.

Now comes the fare. Thick mugs filled with rich creamy cafe au lait, glasses of orange juice, cartons of chocolate milk, water sweating through its glass, and their justifiably famous beignets. The boys went right to work, soon our faces covered in thick powdered sugar and wide grins. My favorite part of the beignet are the slightly crispy corners which allow you to scrap up the extra sugar from the round plates. Lindsay too got in on the action, tentatively at first. But as we were leaving she said, "I can't get over how good those things actually are."

"This is just coffee and donuts," you'll say. You may think you can skip this because you have it at home or because it is too crowded, too touristy, too cliche. Consider this: you can feed a family of four for around $20.

And you don't have cafe au lait and beignets at home.

Cafe du Monde- Worth It? Yes, especially if you have kids. But go early.

If you can't find Cafe du Monde, just keep looking. It only closes on Christmas Day.

PS: Yes, Morning Call is just as good and less crowded, but let's keep that secret to ourselves, New Orleans.

Grape Expectations

2012-01-18T06:40:00.000-08:00

A few days ago I went to Rare Cuts to load up on research material for a future project. I spared no expense: dry aged strip, wet aged spinalis, twice baked potatoes, creamed spinach, and a medallion of foie gras for good measure. While driving home I called The Folk Singer and told her that in light of the beautiful weather, we would be cooking and dining outdoors on that particular night. Plus, top quality beef begs for top quality wine, and so I proclaimed that we would be opening a bottle of wine from the "lower levels" - code word for the area of my wine cooler reserved for bottles only to be opened on a special occasion. It was a Thursday, and what better reason need there be to enjoy a fine meal and nice bottle of wine.

Searching through my cooler, I decided on a bottle of 2007 Caymus, one of the most popular cabernets from the Napa Valley. TFS and I have lusted over Caymus ever since a dinner with The Pope at Charlie's Steakhouse when we shared a bottle of 2001 Caymus Special Select, probably one of the best wines that I have ever tasted. We had a few occasions to sample other vintages, but not in at least a year or two. Still, the '07 was definitely a bottle that we had looked forward to drinking.

The evening started out splendidly. We loaded up the cart in our apartment with all of the essentials and rolled it down to the outdoor grill. The wine had been opened and breathing for over an hour, plus we had our handy dandy Venturi aerator at our disposal. The beef slowly rose to room temperature before hitting a grill as hot as Dante's Inferno. After a few minutes, the potatoes and creamed spinach were ready to go, the steaks were well rested, and the seared foie had rendered enough fat that I was using it as butter on a crusty loaf of sourdough.

But the wine sucked. At the risk of raising my ACI and of proving myself an oenophilic fraud, this wine tasted like grape juice mixed with rubbing alcohol; a definitive California cabernet fruit bomb. But perhaps my palate is not sophisiticated enough to recognize the genius of these wines; I was not impressed with Opus One the first time that I tasted it either. Still, my expectations were high, and this wine fell far below.

The theme of this story does not revolve around the wine but the disappointment. I fancy myself an amateur wine collector and have a small collection of wine that I have mentally reserved for long term cellaring. Each time I reach into the cooler to pick out a wine to bring to a dinner party, an internal debate always ensues as to whether a particular bottle is ready for opening and if this occasion is worthy of said bottle. Usually, I err on the side of holding, telling myself, "This '05 Barolo is going to be ridiculous. There is no way that I am drinking it with The Pope's grilled chicken wings."

But the fact of the matter is that I have never tried said '05 Barolo or many of the other wines in my cooler, and there is no guarantee that any of those wines will not be a certifiable flop like that bottle of Caymus. Wine, just as life, is full of surprises. When I finally open that bottle of 2001 Valduero Gran Reserva which I have been saving, there is a chance that I may experience the same disappointment (but on a much lower level) as the young doctors and lawyers and such who study for years only to realize that their professional lifelong dream is actually a nightmare.

Thankfully, such an experience helps one gain perspective. It would be difficult to appreciate the truly great wines enjoyed over one's lifetime were it not for a number of disappointing bottles along the way. TFS and I never finished that bottle of Caymus; it's still sitting in our fridge. But the lesson did prompt us to reminisce about that cool fall evening a few months back when we boarded the streetcar and rode up and down St. Charles for a few hours while soaking in the sights and sounds and sipping 2008 Justin Savant out of plastic Mardi Gras cups. An unexpected but welcome trip down memory lane.

On to the next bottle.

Carmo

2012-01-17T06:40:00.000-08:00

Photo by renee b. photography.

Well, those were a sobering 6 days of football for Southeast Louisiana. The gameday gear has been washed, folded, and stored away till September. It's as good a time as ever to start those New Year's resolutions, and we have just the spot for lunch today to help you make a smooth transition.

Hidden on a quiet block of Julia Street, Carmo is an off-the-path eatery where one can experience a unique array of flavors with roots in the Mid-East, Africa, South America, and everywhere in between. The subject of our review in this month's issue of OffBeat Magazine, Carmo is both an oasis for vegetarians and a delicious alternative for omnivores in search of lunch. It's a place where smoked pork and vegan cheese harmoniously coexist on a menu which defies explanation, but is most often described as "delicious".

Carmo
527 Julia Street
(504) 875-4132
Lunch: Mon-Sat, 11:30am - 3pm
Dinner: Tue-Sat, 5pm - 9pm

I Have a Dream...

2012-01-16T06:40:00.000-08:00

... that LSU will win the BCS Championship in the same year that the Saints win the Super Bowl.

Unfortunately, that dream will have to wait until 2013.

We are taking a holiday today in honor of Dr. King. See you tomorrow.

Cooking With Wine

2012-01-12T08:02:00.000-08:00

Ahab had his white whale; I have brisket. Recently, I have become mildly obsessed with cooking the perfect brisket which is crusty and barked on the outside and juicy and tender on the inside. I am only in the beginning stages of this particular culinary obsession, but if you want to try some incredible brisket (as well as other bbq), make your way to Smokin Buddha BBQieux. Their brisket is fat and tender, with a spiced bark and rich interior. But more on the city's best barbecue later.

Mad Max sent forth a brawny and polished California Cab this week made by the folks at Five Vintners. Sourced from grapes from St. Helena, Rutherford, and Napa, this cab burst forth with red fruits and smooth tannins. Now, I could have easily grilled a fat porterhouse or thick lamb chops and knocked this pairing out of the park. But, brisket was on my mind. Specifically, a brisket that combined the benefits of braising with the glories of barbecue. Something that would not be too aggressive with the wine, but also stand up to the heavy onslaught or wine power that a California Cab brings to the table.

Marinated, uncooked brisket ready for the grill.

The Taste of Braising, the Texture of BBQ

That is not an entirely accurate description, but let's go with it. What results in a juicy, lip smacking brisket with a deeper flavorprofile than traditional barbecued brisket while retaining more than a touch of smoke. To accomplish this, first get to marinating. Combine 3/4's of a bottle of stout red wine - Malbec will do- a glove of garlic smashed, a sprig of rosemary chopped, enough salt to fit in the palm of your hand, two bay leaves crushed, and ten or so cracks of black pepper. Mix all of this together, and pour over the brisket. Cover and marinate overnight.

Get a smoker to hold steady at 225 degrees. I added a 3:2 mix of hickory and cherry wood chips, feel free to smoke with what the good lord gave you. Remove the brisket from the fridge and marinade; reserve the marinade. Pat dry and sprinkle some more coarse salt on top. Place in your smoker, cover and smoke at 225 for 3 hours. Meanwhile, reduce the marinade in a sauce pan until only about a quarter of it remains.

After three hours, remove the brisket, place on a sheet of foil, pour over the reduced marinade, seal the foil, and place back on the smoker for another three hours or so. After three hours, remove from foil, place back on the smoker unencumbered for thirty minutes or so. Then slice across the grain.

Last time I made this the Saints dominated the Lions in a playoff matchup. If everyone makes this brisket, no doubt the Saints are going to the win. Throw in the wine, and most likely we are hosting an NFC Championship game next Sunday. The 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon from Five Vintners is available at Iris, Commander's Palace, Mr. B's, Houston's, Whole Foods, and The Wine Seller, where it retails for around $37.

Mo's Pizza

2012-01-11T06:40:00.000-08:00

Recently artisan pizza has been at the forefront of both local and national culinary trends, and we have written extensively about several of the pizza specialists which have sprung up over the past few years. But for every one of the new Neopolitan, deep dish, and New York style shops that opens, there are at least twice as many old school pizza joints which remain forever endeared to a loyal clientele.

When discussing the city's best places for a slice, Mo's Pizza is always heralded as a fan favorite. As infrequent visitor to the Westwego area, my first Mo's experience was the result of a perfect storm of a boring Monday night with no football plus the requirement to cross the Mississippi River to purchase a gift card. The Folk Singer and I had no expectations whatsoever as we made the long drive on the Westbank Expressway, but we were still surprised at what we found.

Housed in what looks like (and basically is) a warehouse on an indiscreet side street in Westwego, Mo's is a throw back to the old school, no-frills pizza parlors of yore. Slices are pre-baked and left on display at the counter, waiting to be re-fired in the oven upon command. Your order is artfully presented on paper plates transported on plastic trays reminiscent of the elementary school cafeteria. The dining room is full of tables covered in black and white checkered table cloths and adorned with only the obligatory red pepper and parmesan shakers plus a few bottles of hot sauce. Even the beer prices seemed to be rolled back to a different time - a 16oz. plastic cup of domestic draft will run you $2.75 during all hours of business.

The pizza turnover at Mo's.

And the pizza is delicious. The crust is remarkably crisp given the thickness of the dough (about a 1/4 inch high); the only plausible explanation is an inferno of an oven. Both cheese and toppings are applied at a minimum, but there is ample coverage of the house sauce, which tastes sweeter than most but does not cross into the classification of "red gravy." Portions are laughably large. A single slice is so wide and cumbersome that the kitchen automatically divides them in half for ease of eating.

In addition to pizza, the menu boasts a number of house specialties which are derivations of the same ingredients. Sausage wraps are a guido version of pigs-in-a-blanket. A whole link of Italian sausage is split down the middle and enclosed inside a thin layer of pizza crust, the ends still visible through holes in the end. Turnovers are loaded with all of the meat, extra cheese and minimal sauce stuffed inside the pocket of the thick dough. The Monday special of BBQ beef looked enticing, but I had to wait for that till another day. The cashier was already judging us for our order of 2 slices, 1 turnover, and 1 sausage roll. That amount of food could have easily fed a family of 4, but we made it stretch into lunch for the next few days.

Much praise is deserved for those pizza perfectionists who import their ovens from across the Atlantic, use only artisan salumi as toppings, or replicate the distinctive pizza styles of the Big Apple or the Windy City. I love those types of pies just as much as anyone. But sometimes you just want a slice, and when that's the case, remember Mo's.

Mo's Pizza - Birdie
1112 Avenue H
Westwego, LA 70094
(504) 341-9604
Mon-Sat 10am-10pm

Casamento's: Is It Worth It?

2012-01-10T08:02:00.000-08:00

Welcome to 2012, a year in which Blackened Out will take a hard look at some of New Orleans' most iconic dining and drinking traditions (beignets at Cafe du Monde, dinner at Antoine's, etc...) and find out if it is worth it or not. We have counted up 40 or so spots that seem quintessential stops for a New Orleans tourist. Should be a fun year.

Casamento's

Casamento's is a sea of humanity between 11 am and 2 pm from the first break in summer until they close at the end of May. This, along with its easy to find location, makes it a magnet for tourists. You probable know the rules. Stand in line, bring cash, don't ask too many questions, make sure you are in the door before closing time. That sort of eating can be more than a little stressful, but going to Casamento's at night is a much more pleasing alternative. For one thing, the Magazine St. shoppers have retired for the day. Secondly, they are open for longer hours at night giving you a greater window.

While the crowds don't evaporate at night, Casamento's becomes slightly calmer once dusk falls. The interior of Casamento's is layered in pearls, yellows, and greens. The interior lights filtering through the blinds creates a warm, welcoming glow. As you wait in line, see if you can catch a waitresses attention. If so, ask for a cold beer and a squat, chilled glass. Soon you will meet the Champ and that beer will come in mighty handy. Champ shucks oysters better than anyone in the city and he has the awards to prove it. With a smile larger than the oysters shucks, you can barely wait for him to place the oyster on the oval plate before greedily grabbing them up. They are always cold and fat, the meat glistening under the flourescent lighting. I believe it was Dean Wormer who said, "A dozen raw, with a make it yourself cocktail sauce, and a cold beer is great way to go through life, son."

If it was just for the opportunity to visit with Champ and take in those salty, bulky oysters, Casamento's would be worth it. Pro tip: The Champ's cocktail sauce he crafts is better than anything you will concoct. But there is more to Casamento's once you are seated. The oyster loaf is the biggest celebrity on the menu, a celebration of hot oil, cornmeal, oysters, and soft white bread. I made the mistake of trying the meatball loaf last time I was in, and while it wasn't bad, you will feel like a chump for passing up the oyster loaf.

Before you tackle that celebrity, a cup of the seafood gumbo. The rust colored potion is built on the foundation of a hearty stock and fortified with shrimp, bits of crab, and other miscellany. It goes well with, you guessed it cold beer, and another dozen of the Champs oysters. They should rename this place Champsamento's.

Worth it? Hell Yes.
4330 Magazine St.
895-9761
Closed Wednesdays, June July, and August; Open 11-2 and 5:30-9

Lunch at Herbsaint

2012-01-05T06:40:00.000-08:00

In a perfect world, lunch at Herbsaint would be a daily ritual. Wake up in the morning, brush your teeth, hit the gym, shower, shave, suit up, read a few emails, make a few phone calls, write a few letters, and then treat yourself to a luscious plate of spaghetti in cream sauce with guanciale and a deep fried poached egg, quench your thirst with a flight of interesting wines, and finish the meal with one of pasty chef Rhonda Ruckman's desserts.

There is no need to continue productivity after a lunch like that. If the entire European continent can do it, then why can't we?

Black pepper ham, Ryal's cheddar, and arugula flatbread.

If my wallet, waistline, and work ethic could collectively afford to dine at Herbsaint every day, then I can safely say that I could do so without risking boredom or a jaded palate. The kitchen at Herbsaint manages to stay creative without completely overhauling the menu and upsetting diners by taking away their favorite dishes. John Q. Public may have gone gaga over the shrimp and zucchini flatbread on his visit a few months ago, but today the cracker crust is topped with thin slices of black pepper ham, shavings of Ryal's cheddar, and a mess of arugula. The same backbone but transformed with seasonal ingredients. Such is also the case with the rotating gumbo of the day, whose foundation is almost always a deep, dark roux whose thin consistency carried a wallop of flavor, more in depth than in spice.

Of course, there are permanent fixtures. An excellent meal could be composed of the three dishes which have always been available during every one of my meals at Herbsaint. To start, the complimentary basket of freshly baked bread and rich, cold butter - an often overlooked aspect of service that I think is as integral to the overall experience as any other food which graces your table. Next, an order of fries (contender for best in the city) dipped in the downright addictive pimenton aioli. To finish, the aforementioned spaghetti with guanciale and deep fried poached egg; carbonara fit for the gods.

Good thing we put off those New Year's resolutions for a few weeks.

Curried lamb.

But as much as I love the classics, I usually find myself ordering whatever new dish on the menu or daily special grabs my attention. I have had varying degrees of success with the special sandwich of the day - the best of which were a heavenly hog pairing of a panéed pork medallion with shaved ham and a recent menu addition of thinly sliced rare tuna sandwiched between two slices of crusty olive bread with avocado and lemon pickle aioli. A special of curried lamb placed atop thick, wide rice noodles and crunchy battonets of carrot might be entering the regular menu rotation soon, a move indicative of a kitchen whose staff has wide ranging talent much broader than the French and Cajun repertoire which they are known for.

Chocolate ganache cake.

But no matter what I decide to order as a first or second course, I always force myself to save room for dessert. With each visit, Rhonda Ruckman impresses me more and more with her ability to do magical things with chocolate, the perfect example being a chocolate ganache cake which is dense and chocolatey rich to the nth degree. My most recent obsession: warm chocolate pudding cake surrounding a reservoir of salted caramel which flows like lava of love once you break through to the interior; the accompanying scoop of cashew ice cream and cocoa nib caramel corn were both delicious in their own right and satisfied the kid at heart.

From beginning to end and every moment in between, Herbsaint continues to show why it is a perennial contender for one of the top restaurants in the city.

Lunch at Herbsaint - Eagle
701 St. Charles Ave.
(504) 524-4114
Lunch Mon-Fri 11:30am - 1:30pm

Cooking With Wine

2012-01-04T08:02:00.000-08:00

The wines made by Abe Schoener are unique, to put it mildly. His Scholium Project crafts wines which often bear no relation to any wine you have ever had. Take for instance, his wine called the Prince in His Caves, which is a sauvignon blanc aged in old red wine barrels. The wine is bottled unfiltered and with a mild orange hue, it looks more like a wheat beer and tastes like biting into a grapefruit. It is perhaps the strangest, and most memorable wine, I've ever tasted. So when Mad Max's box o' wine revealed the 2009 Naucratis, let's just say a straightforward dish would not due. This wine is made from 100% Verdelho, a varietal more common in Portugal and used almost exclusively for Madeira. The wine is lush, almost oily in the mouth with crisp acidity.

So with those flavors in mind, we wanted to do something that would be able to stand up to the heft of the wine while benefiting from its palate cleansing acidity. What resulted was a leftover meal fit for a king. I must confess though most of the heavy lifting was borne by Lindsay. Should be no surprise then, that this was our favorite wine and food pairing so far.

Mexican Chicken Pot Pie

The night before, Lindsay made chicken enchiladas based on a recipe pulled from one of her television boyfriends, Tyler Florence. The recipe left us with a large pot of black beans and chicken in a tomatillo veloute. So we took a logical step and combined a cup of the beans with the remaining chicken veloute. We tucked it into ramekins and topped it with sheets of puff pastry. Then bake it at 350 degrees until the top is brown and crusty.

Chicken Pot Pie is often boring and bland. This one was anything but. Robust, spicy, with deep flavors and varying textures. Plus, anytime you can add puff pastry to leftovers, you create a dish much greater than the sum of its parts. Which sort of reminds me of Schoener's wines. You can find the 2009 Naucratis at August, Rue 127, Loa, Delachaise, Rambla, Wino, Dick and Jenny's, and Cafe Amelie. It retails for just under $20.

One Hell of a Burger

2012-01-03T06:40:00.000-08:00

Let's be realistic. Even though we started a new calendar a few days ago, our New Year's resolutions don't take effect until the pigskin is put away for good. And if we had our way, that gluten free diet would not start until February 6th after the big game in Indianapolis. Hell, by that point we might as well just keep the good times rolling another 2 weeks through Mardi Gras, and then follow in Jesus' footsteps with a 40 day fast.

Such was my state of mind on New Year's Day when The Folk Singer and I meandered through the Quarter on our way to dinner before a detoxifying evening at the movies. After waking up under the weather that morning and subsisting on only a satsuma for most of the day, my appetite had recovered and I had one thing on my mind:

Two weeks ago on one of my multiple Christmas luncheons, I dined on this beauty and ever since then have been plotting my return visit. The Steakhouse Bacon Cheeseburger at Dickie Brennan's might have been the best burger that I ate in 2011, a year filled lots and lots of burgers.

"Eats like a steak" is an often overused and inaccurate description of non-steak dishes, but that phraseology is perfectly appropriate for this burger. The flavor profile - beef, iron, beef, worcestershire, beef - comes as no surprise after you consider that the hand-formed patties are made from the ground trimmings of all of those prime filets, rib eyes, and New York strips that you see on the other tables. The burger is grilled over an open flame, just as God intended it. Automatic enhancements include shredded cheddar and pieces (not strips) of bacon - unnecessary but essential to the composition. The foundation is an onion roll, which holds up well underneath the weight of the 10oz. patty; my lone complaint is that the bun was untoasted. Green leaf lettuce, shaved red onion, and tomato (but no pickle) are served on the side, but I don’t bother with anything beside a smear of garlic mayo. The price tag includes a super size serving of house fries, which are more akin to potato wedges than their thinner, crunchy matchstick siblings. I like to dip mine in a side of bearnaise.

At $13.50, this burger and fries qualifies as the budget conscious, but no less enjoyable, version of a fancy steak dinner. During my luncheon a few weeks back, several of my tablemates scoffed at my choice, wondering why I would choose a burger over a filet or ribeye. Their judgment turned jealousy after we finished eating. Of course, my victory at credit card roulette is a plausible alternative explanation.

Unfortunately, my craving for this burger went unsatisfied on New Year's Day. (The restaurant was closed for a private event.) Thankfully, I will have several opportunities this week to indulge. While the burger is typically served only in the main dining room on Fridays during lunch and in the bar every night, during football season the burger makes an appearance on Dickie's Game Day Menu, which is offered during lunch and dinner on days when the restaurant opens early for special occasions. Those days include: today for the Sugar Bowl, on Saturday for the Saints-Lions game, and on Monday for the BCS Championship.

The Steakhouse Bacon Cheeseburger - Birdie/Eagle
Dickie Brennan's Steakhouse
716 Iberville Street
(504) 522-2467

Ending The Year For a Great Cause

2011-12-28T06:40:00.000-08:00

After almost an entire year of failing to live up to your expectations, we are taking a breather this week to relax, recharge, and rush to meet our billable hour requirements. But before we bid farewell to 2011, we want to spread the word about a special event on Friday.

Those of us who are fans of the lunch time tapas menu at Rio Mar probably know Lorie Gandy by face but not by name. Since 2004 Lorie has been the one woman orchestra during every lunch shift at Rio Mar, cranking out plates of blistering morcilla, crispy patatas bravas, and crusty pressed sandwiches filled with jamon and manchego. More recently, Lorie could be found at local markets dishing out cochon de lait po-boys and other fare at a booth sponsored by her Bon Vivant Catering venture.

Last week during lunch at Rio Mar I was surprised to see Nic Bazan, co-owner of Rio Mar and a man of many talents, dressed in his chef whites and working the line. After our table finished a delicious meal (which was punctuated by the absolute best tasting flan that has ever touched my lips), I asked Nic why he was wearing a different hat on this particular day.

It was then that I learned that Lorie was in Houston after an overnight trip was extended indefinitely when she unexpectedly delivered twin boys, Knox and Gabriel, 3 months before her due date. Lorie and her husband Will have been in Houston since then, caring for their boys who are under 24 hour watch at Women's Hospital of Texas and will likely stay there until mid March at the earliest. Once Knox and Gabe are healthy enough for travel, the family plan on making the drive back home to New Orleans.

During lunch on Friday December 30th, the Rio Mar family is throwing a tapas fundraiser to support and assist the Gandy family. Joining the cause will be Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing from MiLa. The cost is $40 per person (which covers tapas and tax), and although there is no specific menu, you can be sure that these chefs will be feeding you well and that no one will leave hungry. Alcohol will be sold separately, and only cash and checks will be accepted.

Most of us were fortunate enough to spend this holiday season at home surrounded by our family and friends. Let's all do as much as we can to ensure that next year the Gandy family will get to do the same.

Happy Holidays from The Pelican Club

2011-12-22T06:40:00.000-08:00

Another holiday season, another trip to The Pelican Club. Like the swallows to Capistrano, as soon as the calendar turns to December I always plan my reservation at one of the most underutilized restaurants in the city.

I will be the first to admit that the food at The Pelican Club has never struck me as either flawless executed or avant garde in terms of creativity. But the service has never been short of excellent in all of my visits, and with a dining room which may be my favorite setting in the French Quarter, a meal at The Pelican Club is always a pleasurable dining experience.

The Pelican Club is one of those French Quarter favorites which only serve lunch on Fridays in December, and I imagine that the special nature of this mid-day meal service was reason for the restaurant's emptiness last week. (Note: If you are planning on lunching tomorrow or next Friday and do not yet have a reservation, I would try here.) During the day time, the succession of dining rooms brightens as you move away from the center of Exchange Alley and closer to Bienville Street. Upon seating, a waiter will happily take your order for the bar's generously sized cocktails and present a basket of the house baked foccacia for you to subsist on while perusing the menu.

Escargots in Casserole

We started with baked oysters on the half shell, which experienced major shrinkage underneath a sprinkling of bacon and parmesan with garlic herb butter yet still remained tender. Escargots are capped off with puff pastry protecting bubbling pockets of mushroom duxelle and garlic butter, the leftovers of which make for an incredible spread on the remaining focaccia. I rarely rave about a salad, but I look forward to the goat cheese salad every year. The simple combination of peppery arugula and baby greens balances the crunch of walnuts and the rich, creaminess of goat cheese with tart sections of grapefruit.

Entrees are straight forward, maybe too much so. Truffle mashed potatoes and asparagus are fine and dandy, but their recurring appearances with other dishes show that the kitchen just does not pay much attention to side dishes. An 8 bone rack of lamb is coated with Dijon mustard, rosemary pesto, and bread crumbs to create a crust that protects a rosy red center, each slice of which is dragged through a demi-glace infused with port and mint. I sampled the butter poached lobster across the table, and I thought the crustacean was cooked perfectly. On my past visits I have had excellent luck with both the whole crispy flounder and paneed fish with creole meuniere and jalapeno hollandaise, but those will have to wait till next year.

All was washed down with several gin and tonics, 2 bottles of a smoky Aglianico, and plenty of laughter. As fine a Christmas luncheon as any.

Christmas at The Pelican Club - Birdie
312 Exchange Place
(504) 523-1504
Lunch: Friday 12/23 and 12/30; Dinner Nightly

Homage to Catalonia

2011-12-21T08:02:00.000-08:00

After hustling from Camp Nou, grabbing a quick shower, and walking the seven blocks from the apartment to Comerc 24, we were to put it mildly, parched and hungry. Out quickly came a selection of breads, olive oils, and sparkling water. We took in those few minutes of gathering sustenance quietly, glancing around the room or at the menu. Next, a tray of gins and a bottle of Fever Tree tonic, it may have been the greatest G&T of my life.

Carles Abellan, chef/owner of Comerc 24 and other restaurants, spent years in Ferran Adria's brigade before opening his own spot in Barcelona's Born neighborhood. His cooking applies the techniques learned and discovered at el Bulli to traditional Catalan cuisine and Asian cuisines. The room is modern with an open kitchen which moves with seemingly effortless energy. Each cook working in harmony with his surroundings and other cooks. It makes for must see reality.

First came some snacks, all based on the color white. A cold cauliflower soup with smoked tea and nori that was fragrant exploration of an often pungent vegetable. Then pieces of popcorn cauliflower with ginger and rice vinegar which arrived stacked on a rock as if they were tufts of snow on a mountain top. Then cold slabs of monkfish, the white flesh standing out starkly against the black sesame and black garlic swiped on the plate.

My favorite savory bite came next. Filo rolled cigars filled with parmesan cream, lemon and basil. Just an exciting blend of crunchy, tart, sweet, creamy, and herbal.

Also served with the parma cigars was a pizza topped with figs, arugula, mozzarella, and sardines. This was a mess of flavors which did not quite gel together for me. But it was very fun to snack on.

The next dish was the only bummer of the night, a cold oyster topped with a beet foam. The disparate elements of the briny oysters and earthy foam lacked a unifying flavor. Instead of coming together in a marriage of mar y montana, the two ingredients awkwardly tried to get along. Things started going rapidly up from there. First, a beach shrimp ceviche with wine and peach that was a study in textures and acidity. Then a dish of cockles, floating in a dashi broth and spiked with thin slices of jalapenos.

Then came marinated sardines spiked with orange and wasabi. Surrounding the plate were these little puffs of crispy sweetened grains. We called them Grape-Nuts. A splendid dish, as the sardines were firm and well-dressed with acidity and spice.

Now, this was cool. Carbonara is the height of pasta in my opinion. The blend of pork, egg, cheese, and pepper can showcase the skill of a cook and the brilliance of simplicity. This dish channeled those flavors, but in lieu of spaghetti, the flavors were bound up in spheres. And they subbed black truffle for pepper, which is ok in my book. So, you have egg yolk, parmesan, and black truffle swimming in a porky consomme.

Out came razor clams, cut into thin strips and served as noodles in a yakisoba dish which is a neat parlor trick to use for your next parlor party. Then tuna tartar which I can take or leave, followed by thin slices of sashimi. Next came a dish straight out of the Catalan rule book: codfish with romesco sauce and ground almonds.

Next came field rabbit served with crispy rice which was just a wonderfully hearty and elegant dish. Cultures which value rice may be the most advanced civilizations. Certainly Spain knows the value of rice. Then a plate of whiting topped with a vinaigrette loaded with herbs and lemon juice. Our final savory course united all of Abellan's passions: Catalonia, Asia, and cooking. A square brick of suckling pig done in the style of Hanoi was delicious, pungent, and best of all a study in the glories of the pig.

Cheese was a jar of mel i mato - honey and creamy cheese. Then, what became our favorite dessert, which we encountered time and time again, bread, olive oil, chocolate and coarse salt. Just look at that beautiful orb of dense, dark chocolate. Gander at those chunks of salt, their salinity amplifying the sweetness of the chocolate and vis versa. Gaze at that pool of peppery olive oil and the crisp of bread. This is the best dessert in the world.

There were other desserts. One channeled Arnold Palmer with its combination of ice tea and lemon. Another layered apple and saffron, while a third stacked creamy, sweetened cheese and strawberries. Then came a moon rock crowned with futuristic mini spaceships. We were instructed to eat those last. Biting into them set off a rush as the dusted chocolate orbs were ice cold while the bottom layer was crunchy. The taste was not dissimilar to what would happen if Butterfinger and Heath Bar had a love child.

All of this was accompanied by a light bodied 2006 Roda I Rioja and excellent service. We sat at the table for hours but it all seemed to pass in a matter of moments. As we were leaving, I noticed the receipt read only 00:30 a.m. How could that be I wondered. I'd find out the next day as we learned that in the middle of our meal, Spain ended daylight savings time.

Feliz Navidad from Ideal Market

2011-12-19T06:40:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I decided that my gameday menu would consist of barbacoa and freshly pressed tortillas. So just before kickoff I headed over to Ideal Market on Broad Street to pickup supplies, and (as has been the custom on my trips to this Latin grocery) I walked away with more than I expected.

First, the calamitous road construction along Palmyra Street has finally ended, and a new and expansive parking lot is available for customers. Second, the grocery has more than doubled in size after a recent renovation, with an expanded produce section and more baked goods on display.

Most importantly (at least to me) the kitchen now has an extended service line, which means a larger array of Latin delicacies is available, and therefore there are more opportunities for me to make an ass out of myself by listening to the people in front me place their orders and then attempting to repeat their exact words in my sorry excuse for Spanglish. Yesterday I requested "pequeño barbacoa y seis tortillas", which successfully sent me away with a small container of braised beef and a half dozen freshly griddled tortillas. I completed the package with dollops of the spicy guacamole, which I finally found after 2 loops around the grocery.

One new offering that I had not yet seen before was tacos al pastor. Sampling the upright rotisserie of pork - complete with a fresh hunk of pineapple slowly spinning on top - may not have been on my original agenda when I walked in, but that did not prevent me from walking out with an order of 3 oversized tacos dressed simply with cilantro and onions and served with a fiery red pepper salsa.

I caught one final surprise on my way out the door, when I spied a pamphlet touting a special holiday menu. Apparently Ideal Market can fulfill all of your holiday catering needs, offering 40-60lbs whole roasted pigs and a tres leches cake large enough to feed an army. I'm currently waiting for my family to confirm that roasted beef head is an acceptable contribution to Christmas dinner.

Ideal Market - Birdie

250 South Broad Street

Open 7 Days - Morning till Night

a Mano

2011-12-15T06:40:00.000-08:00

Trio of Bruschetta

Ancora and High Hat may have been the most talked about restaurants in Adolfo Garcia's empire this year, but I have to say that my favorite meal of the year in the Adolfo empire came from a Mano. That's quite the sleeper pick coming from a guy who has been known to eat at La Boca twice in one week. Even more surprising (to me at least) is that I have never written extensively about a Mano, despite the fact that I have eaten there 6 times since the restaurant opened in October 2009. Better late than never.

A meal at a Mano might cause even the most staunch advocate of "New Orleans Italian" cuisine to swear off red gravy forever. I am being hyperbolic, of course, but like the Brothers Grimm, such an illustrative tale is indicative of how the kitchen at a Mano serves as a tour guide through regional Italian cuisine. Those fans of Domenica have been on this journey before, and both restaurants deserve credit for broadening our horizons beyond veal marsala, fettucini alfredo, and spaghetti marinara. (All dishes which have their place in our local dining scene.) Even though my personal travel experience in Italy is limited to the Cinque Terre, after every meal at a Mano I feel as though I have already tasted my through Emilia-Romagna, Umbira, and Puglia - places which I have only heard about through reruns of Molto Mario.

Meals begin with a complimentary basket of focaccia sprinkled with coarse sea salt and accompanied by olive oil poured into a small dish anchored by a few olives, herbs, and a clove of garlic. Olive fanatics can get an enormous jar of salty orbs too large for one person to eat by himself (no matter how hard I tried). A bottle of wine from the all Italian list, which has great depth and value with plenty of bottles in the $30-$50 range, and I could be content with ending the meal at that point.

But then I would be missing out on the trio of bruschetta, whose selections rotate with the seasons. The above pictured trio featured (from foreground to background): ciccioli (or scraps of leftover pig fat) accented with the sweetness of cherries, whipped lardo which was the equivalent of pork butter, and spicy ‘nduja with red pepper whose heat was not in the forefront but instead lingered on the tongue. Lovers of the art of cured meats can sample Kris Doll's prosciutto tasting ($18) or carpaccio ($60, a half dozen wide, thin slices of Wagyu beef dressed with a spicy giardiniera of sliced carrots and long string beans.

Pasta courses are small but priced accordingly. Gnudi are rich ricotta dumplings dressed simply with sage and brown butter. Spaghetti carbonara is smoky with chunks of pancetta. Hollow buccatini Amatriciana are tossed in a spicy tomato sauce loaded with guanciale. All of the pastas, save the gnudi, are firm and the sauces restrained to achieve balance; the sauce is as equally as important as the noodle, and vice versa.

Gnocchi with Oxtail Ragu.

A table of four would be advised to share courses throughout the meal, so as to cover as much territory on the menu as possible. Which is how a daily special of braised veal cheeks arrived at my table one night, the long, slow cooking process resulting in a dish that was lip-smackingly tender without crossing the line into mush. Oxtail ragu with an incredible depth of flavor is paired with gnocchi of lineage I had never seen before, the three large triangular pillows were crisped in a pan, almost like polenta cakes but made with potato dough.

The menu is in constant flux such that the exact same dish might not reappear on your next visit (for example, the aforementioned ragu might be made with goat and the gnudi swapped for orecchiette). Thankfully, the caponata is always available in some form or fashion, because it's presence on my table has become required ever since I became hooked on the sweet/tart/crunchy combination of eggplant, tomatoes, raisins, and pine nuts. Just another delicious stop along my travels through Italy via the Warehouse District.

a Mano - Birdie
870 Tchoupitoulas Street
(504) 908-9280
Mon-Sat 6:00-10:00pm; Fri11:30am-2:00pm

The Goal of a Restaurant

2011-12-14T07:11:00.000-08:00

Dinners at Brigtsen's have often been compared to dining at grandmother's house, for a number of reasons. First, the building that houses Brigtsen's was likely at one point someone's grandmother's house. Secondly, the service staff is auntly and kind, a far cry and improvement over the recent trend in service. As you may have noticed, some servers are now cooler than you. You, the guest, with your non-gelled hair and lack of visible tattoos celebrating the turnip are simply another square. A square who would never understand the chef's vision of combining Nietzsche's teachings with his take on a Caesar salad.

Not so at Brigtsen's. Where you are first taken under the wing of Frank's wife, Marna, who will guide you to your table and take a drink order. She is happy to see you and you her. From here until you leave you are under the watchful and caring eye of people who are understand the concept of service and hospitality. It is a welcome and restorative feeling, be it at grandmother's or Brigtsen's.

Sazerac in hand, next comes hot loaves of French bread and cold, spreadable butter. A menu that hasn't changed much in years showcases the bounty of the biology of this fair region. There is duck, oysters, shrimp, crab, fish, and pork in various incarnations. It is best to start with thick slabs of duck and pistachio pate sliced and stacked in between crisp rounds of crouton. Alongside are the traditional accouterments, but do not miss the red onion marmalade. A bottle of J Rose, does admirably in a pinch, here and with the next course.

A muddy brown bowl of rabbit and andouille and gumbo arrives, the roux piercing through the stock with it's just on the uncooked side of burned sharpness. The gumbo is chock full of tender rabbit and fiery andouille and crowned by a tangle of white rice. The gumbo showcases the braun and masculinity of the cooking at Brigtsen's; food made to pair with duck camps and Bourbon fueled storytelling. The butternut and shrimp bisque is the opposite end of that spectrum. A sublime, feminine soup, equally as delicious, built for midday refuels in between shopping stops.

It would do you good to switch to a wine with some grit and heft. The E. Guigal Gigondas is a perfect wine for the entrees to come. For me, that happened to be a thick pork chop served with not only with whipped sweet potatoes, but dirty rice, greens, and pork debris jus. The plating will remind you of Thanksgiving and piling as many things onto your plate as possible. It is a beautiful and all too seldom way of eating. One qualm though, that pork debris sauce needs half the salt and twice the pork debris.

Lindsay's entree was equally festive. Brigtsen's famed Shell Beach Diet culls six different seafoods - scallops, oysters, drum, shrimp - with different sauces and preparations. The result is a happy mess of six courses on a plate. A great choice for the dining companion who can never make up their mind as to what to order. "I should have held back on appetizers, and just ordered this for my whole meal. I would have had the scallop first, then the shrimp corn bread, or maybe the oyster Bienville first. I don't know I can't decide," Lindsay said.

Attention would be restaurant owners. Before you open your mold breaking, never been seen before restaurant, take a trip to Brigtsen's. Notice that feeling of relaxation and contentment at the end of the meal. That is the ultimate goal of a restaurant. And one that Brigtsen's performs better than anyone else in the city.

Brigtsen's -Eagle.
Dinner Tuesday-Saturday
723 Dante Street
504-861-7610

The South's Olive

2011-12-13T07:11:00.000-08:00

They grow in sandy soil. While they can be eaten raw, more often than not, they are processed prior to ingestion. They can be turned into paste and smeared on bread. They can be pressed to get an oil suitable for nearly any cooking or beauty purpose. They can relax in a salty brine producing an excellent snack. I am speaking of course of the humble giant that is the peanut.

I love peanuts, always have, always will. I still eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, unironically. I carry a year's supply of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups on any boat trip I take, just in case. I enjoy snacking on crunchy, salty peanuts while sipping a cold beer or rum drink. Yet, all of those forms take a back seat to boiled peanuts.

I first encountered boiled peanuts in college when classmates from South Carolina would truck up tubs filled with the brown pods following breaks in classes. Eating a boiled peanut is not at all dissimilar to eating crawfish. First, you place the pod in between your teeth and press gently. If you do it correctly, a tiny slit will rupture, with a gentle inhale your mouth will flood with saltwater. Then pull the peanut from your mouth, peel off the shell and eat the one, two, or three peanuts inside. Lather, rinse, and repeat. You can do this for hours on end, making it a great source of exercise.

The best boiled peanuts come from "green" peanuts which means they were grown using solar energy and transported via a Toyota Prius. They are hard to find down here, so I tend to use raw peanuts when making boiled peanuts. All raw means is the peanuts have been dried. I've tried various techniques of boiling peanuts- overnight soaking, boiling rapidly in heavily salted water, salting after boiling, steeping, and on and on - with differing levels of success. But one day a few weeks ago, the crock pot once again proved its utility.

Fill a crock pot with peanuts about three-fourths of the way up. Then pour in some cold water. Some peanuts will float on top, don't worry as they will sink eventually. Then dump in a 1/4 cup of salt - you can reseason later anyway. Turn the crock pot on low and go to work. When you come home, stir the pot, and raise heat to high. After another 30 minutes, all of the peanuts should have sunk to the bottom. Turn off heat and let peanuts steep for an hour. Taste. They should be salty enough, but if not, add more salt. They should be soft, but not mushy. You can eat them warm, but for some perverse reason, I prefer cold boiled peanuts. They are even better with the following martini.

A Southern Dirty Martini

A salted olive and a boiled peanut have much in common both in flavor and texture. It is highly probable that the entire idea of adding olives to a martini came about when some inebriated businessmen decided to add the olives which were served as snacks with his martini to his martini. Last year, Jake pointed out his favorite way of drinking martinis is with chilled boiled peanuts. So why use olives from Greece or Spain to season your martini, when a peanut will do? Ice in a glass, add four parts gin and one and a half parts of vermouth. Grab two cold boiled peanuts and squeeze the juice into the glass. Stir with a long handled spoon and then strain into a chilled glass or serve on the rocks. Add three or four shelled boiled peanuts.

What results is a typical martini with a salty, slightly nutty edge - imagine your crazy Uncle Leo distilled into a cocktail. Plus, and trust me on this, a gin soaked boiled peanut is the best way to enjoy the South's olive.

Reveillon & the Rib Room

2011-12-12T06:40:00.000-08:00

With the weather change last week, it's beginning to actually feel a lot like Christmas, and just in time for the start of the reveillon menu season. According to history the reveillon meal is taken on early Christmas morning after midnight mass, but our local restaurants have extended the tradition to encompass basically the entire month of December. Leave it to our fair city to take the most extravagant meal of the year and duplicate it over and over again for 30 days.

This year, 42 restaurants are serving reveillon menus in conjunction with the Christmas New Orleans Style campaign. Prices range from $38 for the classic 4 course dinner at Tujague's to a decadent 5 course repast at Restaurant August featuring foie gras and burgundy truffles.

Last week The Pope, The Folk Singer, and I found ourselves in the Quarter with no agenda for dinner, and so we decided to duck into the Rib Room to see what Chef Rene Bajeux was cooking up on his reveillon menu. Overall the reveillon menu is a great value at $45 for 4 courses, with winners and losers in each course. TFS started with a delicious savory pumpkin soup, which avoided the pitfall of tasting like a dessert. For me, an offbeat combination of shrimp remoulade and ahi tuna carpaccio - the former a fair rendition of the classic; the latter was actually seared and lacked the intrinsic vibrancy without which raw tuna just tastes flat. There is no choice in the second course: the classic Rib Room chopped salad with blue cheese, which is delicious in simplicity. In the entree section, the sauteed drum was one of the best pieces of fish that I have eaten all year. The filet was moist with a khaki exterior and a wonderful perfume of garlic; the hash of diced sweet potato and thin coins of andouille underneath paired marvelously well; and the lemon caper vinaigrette tied it all together. TFS had buttery BBQ shrimp over grits; not exciting but nonetheless good. The Pope tried to order the sirloin, but the kitchen was sold out. (Personally, I thought they should have swapped out a different cut.) Instead, he opted for the roasted duck, which I sampled and found to be quite tough. Desserts were unnecessary, especially the stale profiteroles, but a thin slice of the classic yule log was a nice touch for the season.

The high back chairs, dark woods, and vaulted ceiling at the Rib Room create a grandiose atmosphere, all the more appropriate during the holiday season. I am so fond of the ambience that I can't say that I have ever had a bad meal there, regardless of the quality of the food. This night was no exception.

Reveillon at the Rib Room - Par/Birdie
621 St. Louis Street
Lunch & Dinner Daily
(504) 529-7046

GW Fins

2011-12-08T06:40:00.000-08:00

A question that comes my way quite often is: "Where in the Quarter can we find really good seafood?" More often than not, the inquisitor is in search of platters of fried or boiled shrimp and crawfish and piles of fried catfish and oysters. I always have trouble recommending such a restaurant in the Vieux Carre, usually pointing them to Deanie's after drawing a blank on anywhere else. But lately my standard response has been, "If you don't taking a step in price, you should try GW Fins."

Blue Crab Pot Stickers

"Seafood at its Seasonal Peak" is the mantra at Fins, and from a quick glance at the menu diners learn that the preparations of this bounty are as likely to have roots in the Gulf Coast as they are in the Far East. Appetizers of seafood gumbo and shrimp remoulade are likely to share table space with a cylinder of yellow fin tuna tartare wrapped with thinly sliced cucumber and topped with mango, the plate sauced with squiggles of spicy wasabi and a hint of sweetness from what tasted like cane syrup. Softly decadent lobster ravioli may be the calling card of Fins' preludes, but the blue crab pot stickers deserve equal praise, with the crisped edges of the dumpling giving way to the soft filling for a nicely contrasting texture. Both are bathed a in a rich butter sauce, a recurring theme throughout the entire menu.

Parmesan Crusted Flounder

In my experience, entrees have been underwhelming when compared to the appetizers, though that judgment is not unique to Fins and may be a matter of personal preference. Parmesan crusted flounder was dry underneath its nutty and buttery crust, but the fried capers added a welcome salty crunch. Same for the sheepshead, the larget filet of which was hiding a dome of mac and cheese underneath - rich, creamy, and delicious as long as you are a fan of truffle oil. On the other hand, a cobia (lemonfish) special was perfectly cooked and served atop cubes of watermelon and mango. Wood grilled scallops were meaty and tender and placed atop a creamy mushroom risotto.

Wood Grilled Scallops

The circular dining room feels dated with its concentric semi-circles of leather banquettes, but the arrangement of most seats focuses the view toward the large windows opening onto Bienville Street. Service is respectable, with a cordial staff always available to refill your wine glass and replenish your bread plate with freshly baked drop biscuits which have become a trademark of service. Prices can run high when ordering multiple courses, but the $35 three course Fins Feast is a steal of deal.

GW Fins - Par/Birdie
808 Bienville Street
(504) 565-5459
Dinner Nightly

Homage to Catalonia

2011-12-07T07:34:00.000-08:00

Saturday morning at around 10 am we began the trek towards Camp Nou, the home of FC Barcelona. The greatest club soccer team of all time had a nighttime game against a team from Mallorca and our goal was tickets. Camp Nou is on the outer fringe of Barcelona's city center a thirty minute metro ride. Camp Nou towers over the surrounding apartment buildings and office complexes. The stoic, grey building is ringed with flags and fences appearing more as a fortress than a stadium.

Lines stretch out from two of the windows and through the snaking lines slither ticket scalpers. They peer through the smoke of their cigarettes using it as a magnifying glasses to size you up before making their pitch. "American? 2 tickets, no? Together? See? Nice seats. Best available. For you, cuarenta y cinca."

This haggling and investigation continues until you step up to the ticket window. Seats are available in the upper decks, standing room only the ticket agent says. Then after a pause of an eternity, "There are also seats throughout the stadium," he finishes. You are here once. Unlike an NFL or NBA game, at a soccer match, the action is only on the field. There are very few video screens. No cheerleaders shooting free pizza coupons out of air cannons. No point in playing this one safe. You are pot committed at this point so you take two seats in the lower second level along the sideline. For 90 Euro a piece, less than probably half the cost of a like seat in the Superdome, this is the view you get.

Barca, as the fans shout throughout the game, is the best team mainly because they have the best player, Lionel Messi. Trying to explain how good of a player Messi is to Lindsay was proving difficult. "How can anyone be that good at soccer? No one ever scores. Is this going to be boring?" Lindsay said.

Messi's play explains his greatness more than words could ever hope. Within thirty minutes of kickoff, Messi had scored three goals and almost two more. Before halftime, he would assist on fourth. The second half saw him continue to command the attention of the 90,000 or so fans in the stadium. Watching Messi play soccer is the same as listening to Ella Fitzgerald sing. There is no effort in either of their talents. No reaching, no hustle, no need to practice long hours, and nothing attempted - only things done.

Watching Messi on television does not explain how good he is. It fails to capture his aloofness off the ball. He stands or roams wherever he wants. He looks around like a child on the playground may follow a butterfly. He seems far away from the action, almost disengaged. He is short, squat, and boyish; out of place on a field surrounded by nimble men.

But suddenly the ball is on his foot and in an instant things are happening. Where a moment before a defender or two blanketed him with coverage, he has left them behind. He glides through defenses as if they were French soldiers. Messi rifles a shot on frame before the crowd has a chance to start their "Messsssssssiiii....Messssssssssssiiii" chant. When a ball slips past the keeper, the crown erupts in a startled howl. They turn to each other, palms upturned, as if to say, "What else do you expect from Messi?" It was simply the greatest display of athleticism I have ever witnessed.

In New Orleans Drew Brees is a great football player. Brees is also great person, by all accounts. This city has adopted him as one of our own. But in Barcelona, it goes much further than that. Barca's fans collectively gave birth to Messi. They claim him as their flesh, their blood, their savior. Messi is the great deliverer, their warrior to combat the evil lords of Real Madrid. Messi came to Barcelona by divine intervention. How else does it happen? This boy they plucked from Argentina attracted to FC Barcelona by the promise of treatment for a growth deficiency. That boy develops into the greatest football player of all time. A miracle, no doubt. Of this they are all certain. And he is theirs. All theirs. And like any parent, whatever this child does fills their hearts with immense pride.

The game would end in a four nil win for Barca. The crowd, intoxicated by the drug that is Messi, cheering throughout and engaged always. Their eyes never leave the field. There are no bathroom breaks, no commercials for car parts or grocery stores, and no video speedboat races. Just football and Messi. The two separated because the latter plays a game much different from the former. They spill out of the stadium hugging, laughing, and recounting the game. They are heading home, to a girlfriend's house, or to a bar. It is 10:30 at night, we are going to dinner.

Notorious B.T.G.

2011-12-06T07:31:00.000-08:00

Culinary innovation is nothing new in New Orleans. Places like Antoine's and Galatoire's are credited with inventing Oysters Rockefeller and the six hour lunch that turns into dinner, respectively. Later, Paul Prudhomme's blackening technique would cause more than one legislative body to pass a law or two limiting fish counts. And now New Orleans, while not the first to embrace the fervor of the trend, has run towards the temporary eatery in a permanent space.

Until now the pop-up restaurant's gracing New Orleans's streets have focused on specific foods. There is the original and still the best, Pizza Delicious. There have been noodle joints, barbecue bivouacs, pie purveyors, Asian vegan ventures, and even one inside of F&M's- a spot more known for coeds dancing on pool tables than fine food. Now in a reversal, a restaurant will turn into a bar.

Tonight at Company Burger, Joe Briand turns Company Burger into his Platonic wine bar. There will be food as well from the capable, studied hands of Adam Biderman; but make no mistake the focus is on wine. "Doing it for fun really. Adam is excited to cook something other than burgers and I just want to showcase some wines by the glass that aren't on lists at the wine bars in New Orleans," Briand said by email.

The explosion of Freret Street has been well-documented and a great boon to the city. B.T.G. hopes to capitalize on what has become a consumer magnet. A magnet that attracts a specific diner, "Look at what's going on on Freret Street. You've got Cure doing amazing cocktails, Ancora with an wine list that's all from Campania, just people doing new things. Our ideal customer wants to drink something new and different." says Briand.

The wine menu - and it is only wine - is a romp through the offbeat wines of the Old World. Things begin with a Manzanilla Sherry and a Patrick Piuze Chablis, that speaking from experience is an incredibly focused white wine, with lemon and stone flavors (see With Oysters below). There is an Italian white and Gewurztraminer from Abe Schoener, who is such an eccentric wine maker he might as well be European. The darker side features a Tami Frappato, a Nuits St. George from Domaine Faurey and an '89 Cornas from Robert Michel. At $10 a glass, that last red adjusted for inflation is basically free.

Also, featured will be a selection entitled "The Best $5 Glass in Town" highlighting a Gruner Veltliner from Stadt Krems and a Cab/Syrah blend from Provence. If you are a fan of wine bars that actually charge a fair price for an interesting glass of wine, this is going to be your ChristmasKwanzaKuh. With wines by the glass (get it now?) ranging from $5 to $16 (a Cramant sparkler), you don't have to break the bank to sip a glass of wine. Which is the way it should be.

As for the food, raw Blue Point Oysters ($1 a piece), deviled eggs, chicken liver terrine, sweetbreads, and seared scallops should provide all the ballast to what is sure to be a night of indulgence. About that, but Joe I thought you left the restaurant biz to get away from the insanity of that lifestyle? "My wife calls it restaurant A.D.D. There is an immediate gratification in the restaurant biz that is kind of addictive. We will see how this goes. Again really doing it for the fun of it," Briand explains.

Well, this should be fun. B.T.G. is cash only and starts pouring at 7 p.m. See you there. Need more info? Hit Joe up on Twitter @cartedesvins.

A Guide to Group Dining

2011-12-05T07:11:00.000-08:00

There is a reason why many New Orleans restaurants open for lunch only on the final four Fridays of the year. The holidays are when most groups decide to get together to celebrate, and peering through the dining rooms of the French Quarter on a Friday in December, you are likely to see co-workers toasting to another year on the books, old friends reuniting at annual holiday gatherings, and smug-faced regulars wondering why these amateurs have decided to disrupt their weekly three martini lunch.

Dining with a large group can be both joyous and perilous at times. It's hard to please everyone, and even after you make it past the initial hurdle of choosing a restaurant which is acceptable to all, there are many choices left to be made. Below are 5 tips to assist those organizers of large holiday gatherings with the goal of a merry time for all. Obviously, the smaller your group, the less tenuous your situation and more freedom you have in creating a lunch or dinner specifically tailored to your crowd.

Don't Skimp on the Wine - Serving cheap wine will either (a) force your co-workers to drink faster in order to easily hide the taste, or (b) cause some to open their own tab at the bar to order liquor. Both of those possible outcomes could result in a big payday for your insurer's labor and employment defense team. Might I suggest that you instead try to spend a little bit more on the wine selection. Doing so will gain respect at the office and may even slow down consumption if everyone at the table is savoring every last drop. If dining with friends, go big or go home.

Less is More - Sure, it would be nice if everyone could order whatever they want off the menu. I know that Sally only eats boneless, skinless chicken breasts and Lloyd is allergic to all vegetables unless they are cooked in bacon fat. But things just get too complicated for the kitchen when the table of 18 orders 4 medium filets, 3 medium rare filets, 3 trout, 3 pork, 2 shrimp, 2 mussels, and 1 vegetarian dinner that the chef has to create on the fly because he has not seen one on a duplicate since 1984. When that happens, everyone's food suffers. Stick with 2 or 3 options at most for each course.

Choices not Combinations - Surf and turf is one of those ideas which sounds great in the abstract but usually falls short in reality. Sure, most people will get excited when their plate arrives with both a crab cake AND a petit filet, but their expectations are soon dashed when they realize that the filet is as tough as shoe leather and the crab cake cool in the center. Instead, make them choose one or the other. Sharing plates with their neighbor can be a team building exercise.

Require Variety - I'm sure Restaurant XYZ's whipped potatoes are fabulous, but serving them with both the steak and the fish is just plain lazy. Avoid repeating components of different dishes. At the same time, substitutions can create havoc, so Ken from the sales department will have to decide which he wants more: the gnocchi served with the veal chop or the gratin dauphinoise which accompanies the drum.

Separate Checks is Not an Option - Judy from accounting only ordered a salad, and she doesn't want to bear the financial burden of the 6 scotches ordered by Phil from human resources? Too bad. On the busiest lunch shift of the year, the last thing that a waiter wants to do is figure out exactly who ordered what. The second to last thing that he wants to do is run 15 different credit cards for your table. There are 3 acceptable methods for paying the bill at a group dinner:

Everyone brings cash,
The organizer pays with his/her credit card and then everyone else mails him/her check, or
Credit card roulette.

Any other tips that I have forgotten?

Martin Wine Cellar

2011-12-01T08:00:00.000-08:00

Ah, the holidays. Tis the season for giving, which requires endless shopping excursions to find the perfect gifts for those special people in our lives. Nothing warms the heart to the Christmas season more than a leisurely stroll through Lakeside Mall, combing through rack after rack of argyle sweaters, watching customers fight to get to the front of the line at Jean Therapy, or sitting through an hour long fitting at Ann Taylor to find that perfect little back dress. If there is a hell on earth, well... look no further.

Fortunately for 65 years, Martin Wine Cellar has offered the downtrodden male the most enjoyable shopping experience of the Christmas season. Despite the pride that Aunt Fanny takes in her shrimp mold, we all know that the most integral part of the holiday menu are the bottles lined up along the bar. And no store offers a wider selection of wine and liquor to help lubricate your holiday celebrations.

Photo by renee b. photography.

In this month's issue of OffBeat Magazine, we review the deli side of Martin's, which has always been as big of a draw for patrons as the number of single batch bourbons and white burdgundies that line the shelves of the store.

Martin's deli has come a long way since the days where options were limited to either an Executive Club or the Baronne Beast (which are still crowd favorites and rightfully so). The menu has expanded to the "bistro" category, with a daily specials menu that ranges from wild mushroom pizza to braised rabbit. But for those just looking for a pile of corned beef or pastrami between two slices of bread, look no further than the Deli Deluxe (pictured) which includes both.

So while making your shopping rounds this weekend, keep an mind that there is at least one stop along the way where you can stock up on the essentials, all while enjoying a nice lunch and a glass of wine. You will need fuel to help carry those bags of gifts all day.

Winesday

2011-11-30T08:02:00.000-08:00

Rene: Loads of vibrant fruit, raspberries, blackberries and the like, on the palate. All I really get is fruit; this has to be a California Cab. The wine is very soft in general. I have a bad habit of wanting to drink lush, opulent, likely expensive wines with simple food. It is not any disrespect to either the wine or the food, just an affirmation that the pairing of food and wine doesn't always need to be fancy. Normally a wine like this would have a suggested pairing of thick steak, mushroom sauce or hollandaise, and a fat stack of potato gratin. But you can get a similar pairing without breaking the bank twice. Earlier in the day, I tasted the roast beef po-boy from Grand Isle. With its succulent braised meat, gravy, streak of mayo (not much different from a hollandaise, in theory at least), crusty bread, and few fresh vegetables (cherry tomatoes, sliced jalapenos, etc...), I can't think of a better match for this wine.

Peter: Juicy. I taste the grape first and foremost. Not much acid; I would guess this a merlot. Some wines drink best with food, but this wine would do well on its own. But maybe just a little something to nibble on. Thinking a cheese plate from St. James, or a simple tomme de chevre rolled in ash.

Joe the Wine Guy: This wine is 70 years old. OK, not really. The 2006 Beaulieu Vineyard Georges de Latour Private Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon commemorates 70th vintage of this wine. In 1936 Latour made the first California private reserve. This wine marries refined elegance with opulent intensity and robust character. It woos the senses with heady aromas of blackberry bramble, ripe cassis, mocha and spice. Dark, concentrated fruit picks up across the palate, joined by Rutherford notes of black licorice, loam, and coffee. Formidable body is balanced by firm tannins that span the mid palate and linger with cocoa through the smooth finish. This wine retails for $99.00 and you can find it at Morton's of Chicago and Bacchus Fine Wines.

Homage to Catalonia

2011-11-29T08:00:00.000-08:00

A typical building in the Eixample, which is Catalan for "Acid Based Architecture"

The meal at Cinc Sentits was not one I was particularly excited about. Don't get me wrong days before, even weeks before the meal, after reading Doc Sconz's review of Chef Jordi Atral 's exciting new spot in the Eixample, I couldn't wait to eat there. But when the day arrived, Lindsay and I were sort of beat. Most of this was due to two dinners the night before. One at the "you are here because everyone comes here" Cal Pep; the second at Origens which was an excellent suggestion from Ian McNulty. After the second meal (and one or two more glasses of wine than was necessary), we wandered lost in the rain for an hour trying to find the apartment. Needless to say, the next morning came way too early.

First a quick walk through the Eixample, filled with its grotesque, whimsical buildings and shops that Lindsay says you can't find anywhere else. Funny these shops we seem to find wherever we go. Men, be warned there is a Zara (not the grocery store) and an H&M in nearly every European city. Don't buy the line, "But you can't find these stores just anywhere." Two o clock rolled around and going to lunch felt almost like a burden, rather than a treat.

But then we walked into the dark, cocoon that is the dining room of Cinc Sentits. We were seated and a special house cava poured while we waited for the first round of courses. First up was a selection of "Tapas"- a bowl of marcona almonds with pimenton salt, a honey and sobrassada baton, and house marinated olives. A nice beginning, for sure.

The next tapas was the most perfect bite of food imaginable. A shot glass was set in front of us and we were instructed to drink the contents in one shot, as if there was any other way to take Shotzzz. The first sensation to hit your lips was a room temperature cava sabayon, then chilled thick, luscious cream, then a layer of warmed maple syrup, and finally a few chunks of sea salt. It was simply a perfect marriage of temperatures, textures, and flavors.

Throughout Catalonia, we encountered pa amb tomaquet - a Catalan specialty of tomato and garlic rubbed toast. We found most of them to be soggy. The sort of dish you had to grow up experiencing as an afternoon snack to really appreciate. But this version, threw that recipe out with the bathwater. Out came toasted peasant bread topped with a shockingly cold, sweet, and tart dollop of tomato sorbet. Laced on top was a garlic air. A bite sent a rush to your brain first with the garlic air and then the ice cold of the sorbet.

Next came foie gras served with pastry crust, a layer of cocoa powder, chives and glazed leeks, which highlighted the sweet aspects of duck liver. There was a small tin filled with a smoked sardine with romesco sauce, roasted eggplant and onion and another sorbet- this time a fiery red pepper. The smoked sardine had a surprisingly lightness about it, which pushed the other flavors to the forefront.

"Peix Bullit" is a traditional dish similar to a paella with a touch of bouillabaise thrown in for good measure. Here it was served in two courses: first the fish sauced with saffron aioli and then the dry rice which stuck and crisped in the bottom of the pan. If there is anything better than crisped rice, just undercooked from being burned and infused with fish stock, I haven't found it. But I will keep looking. Next up, Pyrenees beef filet with truffled potato gratin and a truffled glaze, finished with grilled onion. The truffle flavor as you can imagine stuck to the pores of the food and gave everything an earthy, seductive flavor. Now, Iberian suckling pig cooked for twelve hours sous vide with blood sausage under the skin, and pearls of apple glazed with hazelnut liquor. Besides the shot at the beginning of the meal, this was my favorite. Tender meat, rich blood sausage and then a shingle of shatteringly crisp skin. The hazelnut apples brought a sweetness which was most welcome.

A selection of cheeses followed served with an almond cube, honey jelly, and bitter orange marmalade. Raspberry sorbet with pistachio cake and vanilla bean ice cream was a delicious prelude to the finale. If we lacked the cultural touchstone to appreciate the tomato bread, we understood the brilliance that is chocolate, bread, sea salt, and olive oil immediately. Here, the olive oil had been turned into ice cream, the chocolate a warm, firm pudding, the bread shattered and crisped, and salty macadamia nuts at the bottom.

There were wines with each course. The wine service got a little too bogged down in the specifics for me. For example, the wines served with the pig and beef course were poured at the beginning of the meal. We were severely warned not to drink them until the course for them arrived, but to "sniff, swirl, and imagine the flavors which are coming." Or the two wines poured with the rock fish course, where we had to eat the fish first followed by the aioli, and the first wine. Then we could try the rice with the second wine. Only then were we free to drink and taste as we pleased. A little much, but they are going for more Michelin stars and such is the game they have to play. The wines however were very good especially a 2008 Teixar, D.O. Montsant (with the pig) and a Grantxa Masia Pairal Can Carreras, D.O. Emporda which was stunning with the chocolate course (pictured below).

Aside from the slight seriousness, the meal at Cinc Senits proceeded flawlessly from a service and food standpoint. A meal that we found very hard to categorize, but immensely pleasureable. But now it was time for a nap.

A Word of Appreciation

2011-11-28T07:11:00.000-08:00

Even though Thanksgiving has come and gone and the only signs of Thursday's turkey can be found in today's gumbo, I feel that a few people were left off of my annual list of things to be thankful for.

Yesterday, I spent most of my waking hours at Gleason Gras, the first annual event to raise awareness for ALS and to support the family trust created to assist former New Orleans Saint Steve Gleason. Despite the cold, wet, windy weather, the entire day was a resounding success by all measures. There were personal appearances by Sean Peyton and Drew Brees. Music by Kristen Diable, Papa Grows Funk, and Better Than Ezra. And a heart felt and hilarious speech by the guest of honor.

But perhaps the day's best performance was by Cochon's Stephen Stryjewski, who stood all alone at the Cochon food booth for no less than 4 hours straight and served hundreds of cochon de lait po-boys to a never ending line of hungry hordes. No cashier or assistant cook. Just a man, a plan, and this pig:

We New Orleanians are extremely spoiled when it comes to food, and fundraising events are not granted an exception to our high standards. Common knowledge is that an enticing list of participating restaurants is the best way to increase attendance for any event, no matter what the cause.

What we often overlook is the fact that at many of these events, the restaurants donate the food with no strings attached. When you consider not only the food cost but also the labor which restaurants undertake to participate at these events, the time, dollars, and cents add up significantly. Yet, seemingly every weekend, you can find the city's best chefs around town serving seafood gumbo, croque monsieurs, and roasted lamb sandwiches at fundraisers all over the area. Whether it be Justin Devillier from La Petite Grocery, who sold so many blue crab beignets yesterday at Gleason Gras that he dispatched someone to the restaurant after he ran out of supplies early in the afternoon, or Alon Shaya cooking up sausages on his Big Green Egg on Royal Street during the Party for the Troops.

While riding in the car on Saturday, I caught a brief segment of Tim McNally's "The Wine Show" in which he and a caller were discussing just how selfless many of our restaurateurs can be when it comes to donating to a worthy cause. Tim said: "Nowhere else in the nation will you find a head chef, on a Friday night during one of the biggest seasons of the year, serving free boudin to over 1500 people."

Just another reason to be thankful for living in New Orleans.

Winesday

2011-11-23T06:53:00.000-08:00

Rene: First whiff of the wine smells like cinnamon and a humidor. On the palate, this wine is heavy but flighty, jumping from spicy flavors to the almost overwhelming taste of cherries. This is a very smooth wine that would be perfect in front on a fireplace after a long meal. Unfortunately, it rarely gets cold in enough in New Orleans for a fireplace. This wine wants grilled lamb, but something with more bite than simple lamb chops. How about the grilled lamb ribs from Patois. That'll do.

Peter: This wine is rich but not overly tannic, with a slight burn down the back of the throat (Ed. Note: Say to yourself, "That's what she said"). The first flavor profile that comes to mind is cocoa. Thinking red meat (shocker, I know). Had a few veal and beef cheek dishes lately, thinking of the one from Sylvain that is the dinner menu.

Joe the Wine Guy: With great structure, depth, and concentration, the 2006 Three Palms Vineyard Merlot from Sterling Vineyards is intense with ripe black cherry aromas and expansive flavors. On the palate you get mineral, mocha, spices, rose and toasty oak. You can find it at the Renaissance Arts Hotel and Mandina's; this wine retails for around $30.

Homage to Catalonia

2011-11-22T08:03:00.000-08:00

The Mercat de Sant Josep de la Boqueria is a lively assemblage of food and people. There are other markets scattered around the city, but the most famous is The Boqueria. It sits a half black off the world famous (read here: best to be avoided) La Rambla. The stalls in the Boqueria are piled high with any food product you could imagine. Over there is a stall specializing in jamon iberico and hanging from its rafters are joints of rosy pig leg crowned by a black foot. Look here at a large collection of wild mushrooms stacked a foot high. There around the corner is seemingly every creature from the sea displayed on rocks of ice. There are eggs, sheep intestines, fruits, dried beans, candy, nuts, sausages as thick as your forearm and ones skinnier than your finger. Food is the star and it is everywhere.

In the Boqueria, there are two main snack bars: El Quim de la Boqueria and Pinotxo. Our first stop was the latter. Maybe fifteen seats lne the bar which and are snatched up as soon as they become available. A few tables are outside of the bar, but just like Camellia Grill, you go to Pinotxo to watch the show. Behind the bar four waiters work, serving beer, pouring cava, and shouting orders to the three cooks. All of this is accomplished in a space the size of a walk-on closet. It is chaotic and delicious.

First up, a glass of cava made especially for Pinotxo. This echoed a refrain we heard the day before at Sant Pau and would hear many, many times over. Then came a plate of creamy garbanzo beans lightly sauteed in garlic and olive oil and sweetened by golden raisins. So simple and so perfect. With the cava and a few chunks of bread, it makes for a very nice light lunch.

Of course, light lunch is fine and well for ladies who just finished a round of aerobics, but that was not us. We moved on to a plate of croquetas. Lightly fried rolls of pork and potato or potato and cod or whatever anyone else could imagine. The potato croquetas were nap inducing and salty, a perfect foil for the cava. We paid the modest bill and pressed onward.

The next stop was at El Quim. Where as Pinotxo had been a rectangular bar, El Quim is a rocking square of food service. We waited around twenty minutes for a stool, all the while watching the diners gobble up slabs of foie gras, squid, and shrimp hot of the plancha. We settled in and ordered some San Miguel cervesas and looked over the extensive menu. While I would hesitate to call any of the food in Spain as light, the menu at El Quim was filled with the hearty, heavy fair that can sustain a laborer for a day's worth of wages. We passed over the braised oxtail and settled instead on a plate of tripe, fried eggs topped with chipirons-tiny squid and a red wine sauce, and a vegetable. Don't worry the asparagus were wrapped in pork.

The eggs were perfect, their golden yolk mixing with the rich wine sauce and salty punch of the squid. The tripe was a bit heavy handed, as tripe tends to be. The sauce was a gelatinous rust colored liquid in which the tripe rested. At this point, we were quite ready for something green. Thank goodness we had ordered a plate of tender asparagus graced by a sherry vinegar vinaigrette. The bacon wrapping wasn't a bad idea either.

The Incredible Edible Egg

2011-11-21T07:40:00.000-08:00

One of my best friends from college always told me that there is but one principle to live one's life by:

"If one is good, then two MUST be better."

In regard to food, many chefs have tried to uncover all-encompassing augmentation which will improve almost any dish. Unfortunately for them, I have never come across a sushi roll which benefits from being deep fried in tempura batter, a dip in a chocolate waterfall cannot mask the texture of less-than-fresh fruit or dry pound cake, and a heavy shower of creole seasoning or Tabasco only overpowers a flavorless pieces of meat.

But if you add a fried egg to just about anything, you have increased the odds of me ordering that dish by about 50%. And I must not be the only one easily persuaded by the temptation of a rich, flowing yolk because lately chefs have been supplementing all kinds of dishes with a fried egg. Perhaps it's the inner stoner in all of us that craves some combination of breakfast with just about any other food, but no matter whether I am completely sauced or stone cold sober, the phrase "add a fried egg" is as strong a call for me as the song of the sirens.

Below are four of my favorite dishes in the city which feature an addition of a gratuitous egg*:

Bayou Banh Mi Special (Geaux Plates) - Owners Henry Pulitzer and Andrew Gomila take their version of the Vietnamese po-boy to another level by adding a fried egg to the combination of lemongrass grilled chicken and boudin.
Tutto Carne Pizza (Domenica) - The staff favorite features four house cured meats - fennel sausage, bacon, salami, and cotechino - plus a fresh egg cracked in the center of the pie.
Breakfast Burger - I remember when the waiter used to have to check with the kitchen before he let you order your burger topped with a fried egg, but now everyone's doing it. Capdeville, The Company Burger, Cowbell, and Tru Burger all feature a fried egg as an optional add-on to your burger.
Pork Lovers Rice Plate (Tan Dinh) - How do you improve on a plate full of chargrilled pork, pork pate meatballs, pork chop, and shredded pork? Top the whole shebang with a couple of fried eggs, of course.

Did I miss out on any eggscellent dishes? Let's hear about them in the comments.

*There, of course, other dishes in which the egg yolk plays an integral (if not) essential role. The spaghetti with guanciale and deep fried poached egg at Herbsaint and Green, Eggs, & Ham at Vizard's are two which immediately come to mind. But here I am focusing on those dishes which are great on their own but taste even better with a gilding of the golden lilly.

Lunch at The Irish House

2011-11-17T07:11:00.000-08:00

When the announcement was made that Matt Murphy was leaving the Ritz Carlton, my immediate thought was: "So... are they going to rename the M Bistro?" (Considering that the hotel named it after him and all.) My next mental note was, "This guy definitely has too much ambition to fade into mediocrity. It will be interesting to see where he turns up next."

Turns out that next is the corner of St. Charles and MLK where the two story former home of Taqueros/Coyoacan/Stop 9 has undergone an extensive renovation to be reborn as The Irish House. Where once there was a cavernous, unadorned dining room there is now a refined yet welcoming space with Irish knickknacks of all sort covering the walls and dark woods with contrasting with large windows from which sunshine pours in. It's a great place to have lunch or a few pints and a bite after work (or stretch the former into the latter).

On my three visits thus far to The Irish House, each time the food and servce improved from the previous occassion. On the first visit, our server was very green but always smiling, which helped forgive the fact that we waited 45 minutes for our food from the time of ordering. Growing pains are to be expected, but it's tough to convince yourself to return for lunch when the majority of your time away from the office will be spent waiting on the food. On that day the Murphinator Po-Boy (below) came calling - cold roast beef topped with french fries and Crystal onion rings and served with a side of gravy. The long, thick cut fries and thin onion rings were the highlights of the sandwich, and the roast beef was above average quality. But the sandwich did not exactly come together. Had the roast beef been served hot, the po-boy would have been much improved. The side of coleslaw tomato salad tasted like a typical version with no discernible tomato component as advertised.

Such an experience does not exactly leave one with a desire to return, but (almost) everyone deserves a second chance. And The Irish House capitalized on those subsequent opportunities. Service exponentially improved, with our courses coming out at a brisk pace. The kitchen's execution was much more sharp - or perhaps I ordered better.

Chef Matt’s work with potatoes reinforces the stereotype that the Irish know best how to use them. Bacon and cheese croquettes (above) are crunchy fried balls of mashed potato topped with chive sour cream and a placed in a sweet onion marmalade that would be delicious spread on pieces of the complimentary house soda bread. Coarse and crumbly boudin is fried in a light batter and placed atop colcannon, a mash up of potato and softened cabbage, and then finished with a smoky tomato sauce. The Friday special of fish and chips brings long filets of cod in a tempura-like batter that is reminiscent of Houston’s chicken tenders (and I consider that a good thing). Fries are long, thick cut, not crispy but still worth ordering. Shepherd’s pie is a flawless rendition – a bottom layer of well seasoned ground beef with a few diced carrots and a green peas, those wonderful mashed potatoes in the middle, and a thin layer of cheese melted over the crock.

Although I have only been for lunch, The Irish House is a multi-faceted venture. The kitchen serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner beginning at 7am and ending at 10pm. While the downstairs dining room is reserved for seated service and bar patrons, apparently the upstairs area is a bit more lively with soccer matches early Saturday morning and live Irish music during the evening on Monday, Friday, and Saturday. And yes, Guinness and Harp are poured during all of the above.

The Irish House - Birdie
1432 St. Charles Ave.
(504) 595-6755
Kitchen open daily 7am till 10pm

Cooking With Wine

2011-11-16T07:11:00.000-08:00

In the last few years, Brussels sprouts have emerged as one of the favorite vegetables in our house. Sometimes we roast them with bacon, garlic, and salt, other times we blanch them before slicing them in half and slowly caramelizing in brown butter and finishing it with shallot and lemon. For the last few weeks, Lindsay has been raving about the shaved Brussels sprouts salad at Sylvain and asking me to make something like that.

When Mad Max dropped off a substantial white wine with notes of lemon, green apple, citrus, and grapefruit my mind immediately went to trying a version of shaved Brussels sprout salad. The 2009 Ribolla Adriatico from Bastianich Wines has a firm minerality and a lot of acid, with just a touch of sweetness at the end. That made me want to incorporate some spice and sesame oil to take the dish in an Asian direction. You can find the wine on the list at Green Goddess, Bacchanal, and Whole Foods, where it retails for under $20.

Shaved Brussels Sprouts Slaw with Poached Chicken

The chicken is optional. But if you want to add it, it works best in salads when poached. Bring 6 cups of water up to a simmer, add some cloves, salt, bay leaf, and a half cup of white wine. Add the chicken and simmer for 25 minutes or so.

A mandoline is one way to slice the sprouts into thin rounds. But be careful and it helps to listen to this song while doing it. A food processor with a slicing blade is a much better option. Once your sprouts are shaved, place them in a deep bowl. Thinly slice the radicchio and add this to the Brussels sprouts. Toast about a palmful of slivered almonds until light brown. Add this to the above, along with salt and pepper.

Finely dice the green chili and some garlic (if you have ginger, by all means use it). Place this in a second bowl. To this add some soy sauce, the juice of one lemon, a tablespoon of rice wine vinegar, and a teaspoon of honey (you need the sweetness to counteract the bitterness of the raw radicchio and Brussels sprouts). Whisk. While whisking stream in a about tablespoon of sesame oil, then finish the dressing with olive oil. Taste. Adjust seasoning.

Pour dressing over the Brussels sprouts and radicchio top with poached chicken and mix to combine. Let sit for a few minutes before diving in. Chopsticks or forks are acceptable.

Thanksgiving is Coming

2011-11-15T08:00:00.000-08:00

This Thanksgiving you will gather around the table with those you love, break bread, carve turkey, and crave a nap afterward. There will hopefully be mounds of white whipped potatoes gilded by dark mahogany gravy. You will slice tender, moist turkey and dab it with tart cranberry sauce, dragging it through a field of bacon braised green beans. Perhaps later in the day you will pile a dollop of whipped cream on top of a gooey pecan pie. Of course there will be a midnight raid on the fridge to compose a pistolette of oyster dressing and leftover turkey.

All of this will be undertaken surrounded by friends and family. There will be goblets of red wine and squat rocks glasses filled with small batch bourbon. If we are really lucky, the Cowboys will blow a winnable game.

But for many people, Thanksgiving is just another day of going hungry. Estimates from Second Harvest Food Bank define 1 in 8 Louisianians as struggling with hunger. Almost 75% of people serviced by the Greater New Orleans and Acadiana Second Harvest Food Bank are food insecure. What that means is they don't always know where their next meal is coming from.

We talk nearly everyday about food. The subtext of all of that is that both Peter and I are incredibly blessed to know that our next meal is only a few hours away. Let's face it, as great as Thanksgiving is, you usually end up with plenty of leftovers. Those leftovers either get turned into indulgent snacks or thrown out later in the weekend. An uncle of mine always says after Thanksgiving, "Every year we try and cook less food, and somehow each year we end up with more leftovers."

If that sounds like something uttered in your household, I want you to encourage you to take one dish off of your Thanksgiving menu. Whatever you would have cooked, donate a like amount of food or cash to your local food bank. This is not a major sacrifice. You know those candied sweet potatoes are more hassle than they are worth or that the only reason you always make green peas is because you have always made green peas. It is a simple gesture. Plus, it likely will save you from doing an extra set of dishes and get you on the couch quicker to witness the Cowboys collapse.

This year I am not going to make Corn Goodness. A few ears of corn, some red peppers, a jalapeno, shallot, and garlic is about $10 bucks worth of groceries. While we won't miss it too much at our table, it may make a huge difference in someone else's day. And isn't that the true meaning of a holiday as special as Thanksgiving?

Pizza Consegna & Domenica Deliver

2011-11-14T06:40:00.000-08:00

It was a long, fun-filled weekend for the hard partying folks at Blackened Out Dry Cleaners and Plumbing Supplies. We took full advantage of the Carnivale du Vin festivities, beginning with Boudin & Beer on Friday night followed by the gala and wine auction which started on Saturday evening and went into the early hours of Sunday morning. More on those events in the coming days.

Needless to say, by the time the Saints game kicked off yesterday, The Folk Singer and I were resigned to spending the entire day on the couch - and it's not only because someone drove his car into the parking garage gate at our apartment building and disabled the only vehicle entry/exit point so that we had no way to get our car out. It's days like those that we are thankful for the lazy man's best friend: pizza delivery. And the CBD area has added two new options in recent weeks.

Pizza Consegna is the in-house pizza delivery service from the newly renovated Hyatt Regency Hotel. During a tour of the hotel the week before its grand opening, The Folk Singer and I were given a sneak peek of the kitchen facilities where these Neapolitan pies are made, and I must say that the stone ovens ~~peaked~~ piqued our interest and gave us the impression that this is no standard pizza that rolls off the conveyor belt. The proof is in the pie though, and I can say that Pizza Consegna is one of the few the delivery pizzas whose crust was still crispy upon arrival, and that fact alone makes this pie appealing. The look and flavor remind me of those late night slices that I used to get from the Dough Bowl next door to the Boot - plenty of cheese and no shortage of grease. The most intriguing aspect of the Pizza Consegna experience is how the delivery box breaks down. The top is perforated so that it tears into 4 plates for serving, and the bottom folds into a leftover box short enough to slide into the fridge. And considering that the pies only come in one 18" size (at an affordable price of $10.95), you can expect leftovers.

Adding another delivery option to residents and workers in the CBD, Domenica has recently started to offer bike delivery of their pizzas during lunch and dinner everyday of the week. Chef Alon Shaya said that Domenica's monstrous oven has a capacity much greater than what was being used, and thus adding a delivery option will only increase opportunities for Domenica's fans without detracting from the quality of the pies or speed of service in the dining room. Now if we could only convince him to throw in a whole roasted cauliflower into that to-go box...

Winner, Winner Boudin Dinner

2011-11-11T05:32:00.000-08:00

Wow. You folks sure know how to turn a Boudin Haiku Contest into a Boudin Haiku Contest. While we enjoyed all of the entries, like cream some rose to the top. Just a reminder tickets are still available for Boudin and Beer presented By Abita Beer. In addition to pork and beer, there will also be wine from Presqu'ile Winery. We just hope there is enough boudin, beer, and wine for you after we get done with our raid. See you there. PS In case we don't see you time to point out Robert Peyton, look for the creepy guy, wearing a turtleneck, and a million watt scowl.

Honorable Mention

Greg
Carnivorous treat
Delectable temptation
How much shall I eat?

Third Runner Up

John
Boudin, Beer, Boudin
I want to stuff my face with
Boudin, Beer, Boudin

Second Runner Up

Blair (who gets all e.e. cummings up in this piece)
out of gas and cash
boudin or fuel at station?
need pork, walking home

Runner Up

Joshua
Here piggy, piggy
You taste like heaven to me
Boudin afterlife

Winner Winner Boudin Dinner

Crack (Perhaps channeling William Blake's The Tyger)
Transcendant food bite
Your rice and liver shine bright
Beer will pair just right

Congrats Crack, please contact us at your earliest convenience. Thanks to all who competed.

Short Order Reviews

2011-11-10T06:40:00.000-08:00

In today's Short Order Reviews we check out a Frenchmen Street spot that might as well be in Anywhere, USA, a French Quarter favorite that fell short of expectation, and a Mid-City mainstay stuck in mediocrity. An uplifting Thursday post to get you ready for the weekend.

Marigny Brasserie - It's bizarre to me that a restaurant on Frenchman Street - the most bohemian, eclectic, funky street in New Orleans - could have such an uninspired menu. The list of gumbo, jambalaya, fried seafood platters, and po-boys reads like a greatest hits of the New Orleans dining lexicon. Maybe one or two of the ten appetizer choices is not dropped into the deep fryer. Note to self - piling olive salad on top of a head of fried calamari does not hide its chewiness. Pasta dishes were bland, thin, and under seasoned. Burger was of typical quality for your neighborhood bar, which is to say disappointing. The lone worthwhile dish on the table was the macaroni and cheese, whose rubbery layer of melted cheddar gave way to a creamy, cheesy penne underneath. Your best choice on the menu it is; reason for returning it certainly is not. The front bar room is comfortable and unique enough, but the red upholstered booths and generic wood tables and chairs in the main dining room could fool any diner into thinking that he is in the restaurant of the Hampton Inn in Plano, TX or Hoover, AL. The cocktail list is interesting enough, and there was a 2 for 1 special on canned beers leftover from the Halloween festivities. Unfortunately, cheap beer could not save the day. Bogey.

Muriel's - With The Folk Singer's mom in town, we decided on brunch at Muriel's so that she could hear hear the jazz trio and so that I could figure out if there was more to Muriel's than just shrimp and goat cheese crepes. The building is one of the French Quarter’s best dining locations, with the inner atrium and long, comfortable bar hidden in the rear. Unfortunately, the food leaves much to be desired. Shrimp and goat cheese crepes were great as always, but it was slow roll downhill from there. Special soup of duck and jalapeno had a tan roux, plenty of shredded duck, but not enough spice. Alligator hash was dry and could have used an extra helping of hollandaise. Eggs Sardou sat in a pool of thin, buttery sauce with spinach as a lesser spin on the classic. Vegetable plate was a haphazard mélange of pickled cauliflower, roasted tomato, and deliciously fried oyster mushrooms. (Don’t ask me why TFS ordered that.) With such a nice atmosphere, I can't help but think that if the food improved then locals would easily supplant tourists as the primary clientele. Oh, and one another issue: Since when is pecan crusted puppy drum considered the staple of a “classic New Orleans brunch”? Bogey.

Fellini's - The restaurant was surprisingly empty for a Saturday night, but that’s probably because of the 2:30pm LSU kickoff against Auburn and the Jesuit vs. Brother Martin game around the corner at Tad Gormley. The cool fall weather beckons a table on the patio out front. Started with the hummus, which is a small portion but a sufficient starter with the soft, thick pita. I prefer the smoked tomato dip though. Lamb roll is prepared and then baked so that thin thin lavash cracks and crumbles with each bite. The lamb was tough and dry, and the tzaziki was buried toward opposite ends, which was unfortunate because the lamb could have used the moisture. Accompanying pasta salad was a healthy alternative to fries but nothing more than filler for the plate. Fellini's is honest about what it is - an affordable restaurant that offers a menu of healthier alternatives to pizza, po-boys, and burgers. Bogey/Par.

Boudin and Beer Giveaway

2011-11-09T06:19:00.000-08:00

As we mentioned last week, Emeril Lagasse brings his traveling trope of toques into town this weekend for his Carnivale du Vin charity event. While the main event - a black tie Gala, Dinner, and Wine Auction - is out of our price range, there is a more accessible and casual event Friday night called Boudin & Beer. We are fairly certain you can figure out what the event entails. The other day, Alon Shaya refused to reveal what sort of goodies he had in store for Boudin & Beer. You should take this to mean, Boudin & Beer will be one of the best grazing events of the eating season. Plus, all the Abita you can drink.

In honor of someone else figuring out the unbeatable combination of pork, beer, and music is one hell of a good way to raise money, we are giving away two (2) tickets to the event. Also, if you go to Boudin & Beer we will gladly point out Robert Peyton to you, so you know who to avoid. We bantered about a few contest ideas. First, we thought, "Why not do boudin trivia?" But the only trivia questions we could come up with all had the same answers: pork liver, rice, beer. Then we thought about doing one of those cute Twitter hashtag things like adding "with boudin" to the end of a movie title. We nixed that idea after we figured out the best answer was going to be "Riding in Cars With Boys With Boudin."

So we decided to challenge your tenth grade English self. In order to win the two tickets to Boudin & Beer, we want your best Boudin Haiku. You remember those, right? 3 lines of poetry; the first and third with 5 syllables and the second with 7. You can leave your haikus in the comments, tweet them to us, or send them by email. The best one wins. Enjoy.

Delicious photos courtesy of renee b. aka Peanut.

Homage to Catalonia

2011-11-08T07:23:00.000-08:00

The journey to the greatest place on earth is easier than you might imagine. You start your journey in Barcelona by finding the red bricked Arc de Triomph. As you walk up the Passeig de Lluis Companys which hugs the Arc, passing old men bickering, bitching, and cajoling one another over intense games of boules, look for the Metro station. Buy a round trip ticket for the Rodalies 1 train. It will take you out of the city on a north east ramble through beach towns shuttered for winter. Sit on the left hand (neutral ground side) for an ever changing slideshow of why the people who lived on the shores of the Mediterranean developed civilization.

You get off the train at the St. Pol de Mar stop. The town of St. Pol de Mar is built steeply into the surrounding hills. Take a walk around, snap a photo or two of the terraced gardens which have a commanding view of Homer's sea, and wander aimlessly. Build your appetite. You still have some eating to do before your journey is complete.

You will be able to pick out the building that houses Carme Ruscalleda's Restaurant Sant Pau from a safe distance. The exterior is bright yellow with royal blue trimming. Outside waiters in dark Nehru jackets and pressed pants survey the street. It is not out of boredom. Anyone walking down Calle Nou at 1:30 on a Wednesday afternoon in the fall, is here to dine at Sant Pau. Consider them advanced scouts.

You enter a modern atrium and as if on command a maitre d' will ask you to follow him. You do. And this is when you get the first glimmer of the prize at your journey's end- your Valhalla. A garden, a level below where you sit, looks out passed an iron gate and onto the wide stretches of the Mediterranean. But careful, the temptation is to look ahead. Avoid it and focus on your task ahead: lunch.

Settle in with a glass of cava. Of course, you could order a la carte, but I will let Lindsay explain it better, "We didn't travel all this way to eat one or two dishes. We are getting the tasting menu, right?"

Here comes a starter broth. It sounds incredibly simple when explained. Just peppers, onion, garlic, olive oil, and water, a traditional dish of Menorca. It is bright orange, the color of the setting sun. You take a sip. It is not so simple. Complex with flavors alternating between the slight sweet spiciness of the peppers to the grassy overtures of the olive oil. Water has never tasted so great.

Next up is a collection of four small appetizers. You learn that Ruscalleda will be in Harvard in November teaching classes on the Maillard reaction which takes place when sugars meet heat. Therefore, all of the treats follow the Maroon color theme of that scientific occurrence. There are crispy noodles with single sweet prawn, miga,s a traditional breakfast dish of fried bread crumbs, with grapes and raisins, spiced almond candies enveloped in a tissue paper wrapper, and this stunner, a golden orb of liquefied garlic sitting atop a puck of biscuity pastry spiked with pine nuts.

Every chef of any renown has a dish they are rightfully famous for, a dish people travel across the globe to eat. At Sant Pau that dish is the Gastronomic Mondrian, Ruscalleda's take on the confluence of the great rivers of art and food. The dish is presented to you like so.

A second or so later, another waiter will remove the box to reveal a dish which sounds basic enough - salt cod brandada with orange, green, and yellow peppers and black olives. Only the peppers and olives have been turned into thick coats of oil paint to contrast the white canvas of cod. The creamy cod is punctuated with hidden slivers almond which provide a textural contrast. This dish is simply outstanding and worth your journey alone, but press on.

There is a dish of squid inspired by the Ruscalleda's trips to Japan. In a bowl sits white as copy paper balls of ground squid surrounded by mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and nose tingling herbs. A dashi broth poured tableside will marry harmoniously the disparate elements. Next comes the vegetable portion of this odyssey. A ravioli filled with juiced carrot, daikon, eggplant, and zucchini (and probably a fair amount of butter or oil) is wrapped with delicate strips of the same, then topped with a crown of Joselito jamon. "Even the vegetables come with ham...I think I love Spain," Lindsay said.

There are wines with each of these courses, sublime whites (and one red) all from within sixty miles or so of the restaurant. They arrive with precision often thirty seconds or so before the back waiter brings forth your next course. Which your next course happens to be a langoustine and dewlap (the floppy part of a pig's neck), Jurvert sauce, and beetroot vinaigrette. Jurvert sauce is a sort of precursor to pesto or salsa verde. Basil, nut, and garlic sauces are hallmarks of many Med based cuisines, each cuisine claiming they invented it first. "We invented it first," adds the captain. A touch of caviar adds a sharp, salty punch.

Next up is a rectangle of seabass roasted in fig leaves and unfurled tableside before being sauced with chayote puree, figs, smoked salt, and poached mirliton. The fish is firm. Its interior just beginning to cook. Its flesh is fragrant and the chayote and figs add crisp sweetness.

You will have the option between two meat courses. We made it easy and got one of each. The pig trotter was a gelatinous and heavy handed terrine, perhaps better as a light lunch with a crisp salad than the eighth course in a marathon. Luckily Lindsay ordered that one. I got the duck from Challans, the peppery, rich beef wrapped around a fried squash blossom stuffed with cubes of apple. The maple syrup reduction will make this dish one of your most impressive accomplishments on this odyssey. It tastes of fall, holidays, crisp nights and is delicious.

There will be a cheese course with five offerings and five contrasting flavors to distract you from your goal. The most intriguing is a Bleu de Vercors-Sassenage paired with a coffee marzipan, the best a Bauma with pumpkin, lettuce, and mustard. The cheese course comes with a handy guide for your reference.

After that, will come a palate cleansing sorbet of raspberry and rosewater. Keep pressing, you are almost there. Now your first dessert, a sweet sorbet of pineapple on top of a creamy tocinillo and surrounded by raspberry puree. The flowers are edible and will give you the strength to continue.

The world is a small place. How do I know this? Smart people say so; but also, because of this dish. On the coast of Catalunya comes a dessert inspired by the greatest liquor made in Kentucky and maybe the world. The dish is just called Bourbon. Each of the elements the thin cookie, the creamy ice cream, and the dense cake are based on the flavors of a good Bourbon. There is pepper, vanilla, chocolate and coffee. Into the trapdoor, the waiter pours a shot of Bourbon and elevates the dish to the magical. You will savor this dessert wishing each bite could be repeated over and over again.

At this point in your journey, the captain will ask you if you would like to have your final snacks outside in the garden, "Perhaps with a coffee, espresso, or a digestif?" You will of course say yes. If you are truly committed, go with the Fernet Branca. She will lead you through the dining room seemingly floating through time, space, and lunch out the door, down the stairs, and into the garden. There, under the canopy of three white maple trees, is a platter of treats from the confectionery (the mushroom and chocolate macarons a delight) awaits.

Grab a comfortable, cushioned seat, enjoy your drink, and watch the kitchen at work through the large plate glass windows. At your back is the sound of the Mediterranean colliding with the occasional whistle and rumble of a passing train. Congratulations, your journey is complete.

Felipe's Taqueria

2011-11-07T06:40:00.000-08:00

Chips, salsa, tacos, burritos and margaritas. This simple recipe of success is a proven winner for creating a profitable restaurant in almost any city in America. Even though Italian food may be the #1 cuisine of choice worldwide, I would venture to say that Mexican cuisine, at least in the United States, appeals most to both consumer and restaurateur. The low food cost of beans, rice, and tortilla chips allows restaurants to pass along those low prices to diners (who are also rewarded with large portions), and the festive connotation encourages consumption of mas cervezas y margaritas, which pushes up the check average. Everybody wins.

Except for one thing - the food almost always disappoints. For some reason, restaurants believe (and consumers accept) that just because the food is cheap it's OK that it doesn't taste very good.

Thankfully, Felipe's does not subscribe to that school of thought.

Upon entering Felipe's the uninitiated would think that this is your typical run-of-the-mill burrito shop, until you notice a woman hand-sorting black beans behind the counter or a pair of prep cooks dicing onions and chopping cilantro. Don't let the cafeteria style service fool you, Felipe's serves better food than 95% of the full service Mexican restaurants in the city and at half the price. I might venture to say that there are very few places in the city where 2 people can eat this well for under $20. With the French Quarter location just a 15 minute walk or 5 minute drive from our apartment, The Folk Singer and I have come to appreciate the budget-conscious menu as often as 3 or 4 times per month.

The menu lists 8 different protein selections, all of which are stuffed in various tortilla delivery systems. Some of the protein choices deserve more attention than others. I find the fish and shrimp (both fried) to be suitable only for vegetarians and the carnitas inconsistently dry. Instead I go for the spicy ground chorizo, succulent al pastor marinated in pineapple, and chicken tinga stewed in spicy chipotle sauce.

My vessel of choice is the quesadilla (pictured above), griddled until the tortilla blisters and the Monterrey jack cheese melts, then filled with toppings of your choice, before folded on opposite sides into a thin, crispy rectangular package. This $5 (taxes included) lunch may not be a foot long, but it has miles of flavor. Tacos are double wrapped in corn tortillas warmed on the griddle. Sliced Monterrey jack is either melted on top of warm tortilla chips in the salamander for nachos or steamed inside of a pliable tortilla for burritos. Not exactly how they do it in Puebla or Mexico City, but who are we to judge.

Toppings range from a simple scattering of cilantro and onions to a colorful salsa bar at your disposal. Guacamole is made in house and is more of a smooth dip as opposed to a chunky avocado salad. Black beans and pinto beans are available in either whole or refried form. As a four year resident of Texas, I consider myself an authority on queso, and I can say that Felipe's comes closest to my favorite versions served in Austin.

In my personal experience, the French Quarter location serves better food than the one in Broadmoor, but I could be biased because of proximity to both home and office. Undoubtedly though, the French Quarter has a much better and more spacious bar area, which is sectioned off enough from the serving line that it has its own crowd of regulars who come for the cheap beers and well-mixed margaritas. You can't beat $2.50 draft Dos Equis on Thursday.

The post-Katrina explosion of Hispanic eateries had us all rejoicing both for an influx of more authentic Mexican, Latin, and Central American food and for the corresponding death knell of the faux cuisine which stood in its place before the storm. Last time I checked though, I was the only gringo standing in line at Ideal Market while Pancho's parking lot is full every night. While Felipe's does not pretend to be the definitive word in authentic Mexican cuisine, its food just goes to show that cheap can still be delicious.

Felipe's Taqueria - Birdie

French Quarter
301 N. Peters Street
(504) 267-4406
Open at 11am daily. Sun-Tues till 12am; Wed-Thur till 1am; Fri-Sat till 3am.

Uptown
6215 S. Miro Street
(504) 309-2776
Open at 11am daily. Sun-Wed till 10pm; Thu-Sat till 11pm.

Velvet Cacti Review

2011-11-03T07:30:00.000-07:00

Photo by renee b. photography.

In this month's offBEAT Magazine, Peter and I recount two very different experiences at Velvet Cactus. Peter found the fare and experience less than ideal, while I had a rather enjoyable lunch. You can read about our experiences here. The different dining diaries we compiled on our trips to Velvet Cactus reveal a very interesting point. With almost every review we have ever written someone has agreed completely or disagreed completely.

Restaurant criticism, like any criticism, is a very subjective task. When Brett Anderson reviews a restaurant, the comments bear this point out. You are guaranteed to find someone who hates the restaurant, a strongly held belief that Anderson short changed the restaurant because it isn't owned by one of his chef cronies, someone is certain Brett must have paid under the table, a commentator knows Brett is a secretive vegan, and finally, a guy named DynAM90icXXX who wants to sell you a gold backed penis enhancer.

In many ways, restaurants in New Orleans create allegiances not unlike politics. You may not be able to understand why your friend likes Restaurant X, and she thinks you are crazy for liking Restaurant Y. We all make judgments on each and every meal we eat, be it at home or in a restaurant. This is just something human's do. Most likely it is an evolutionary holdover from days when people routinely died from food borne pathogens or poisons. Picture Neolithic man warning his fellow hunter and gatherer to "Stay away from the fruit of the tree at the base of the mountain, it was so bad it killed Ack Tshuntai."

So today's discussion question is "What is the most polarizing restaurant in New Orleans?" Is there a restaurant that you can not abide? Or one that you can't understand why other people don't love? If so, tell us about it in the comments.

Homage to Catalonia

2011-11-02T07:33:00.000-07:00

Writing about food is just bragging. Ohh, sure it can be fun to read, but in the end the writer is always saying, "Check out what I did that you didn't." Now, there is a saying in that state to our west which holds that if you've done it, it ain't bragging. So pardon me for the next few weeks, as I assail you with bragging boasts and prideful posts of what may go down in history as the greatest week in eating ever undertaken.

Lindsay and I arrive in Barcelona on a Tuesday under a sky bluer than a Bob Saget joke. After putting our bags down in an apartment in the Sant Pere district of the city, we set off on foot to get the lay of the land and eat lunch. After finding an old church and checking out the beach, we located Can Ramonet and set out to do some serious snacking. It was also at this time we learned, that no one eats lunch in Barcelona before two p.m.

In the time it took to take a few sips of Estrella, out came our first round of nibbles. Boquerones, anchovies, tomato bread, and pimenton de padron (counter-clockwise from bottom left). As for the tomato bread, save one dish later in the trip, we never really got it. I chalk this up to not having that dish as a cultural milestone. Pan amb tomaquet is one of those dishes Catalonians grow up eating, as a snack prepared by mom after school, or a way to stave off hunger until after Sunday Mass. Without that cultural touchstone, for us, it was a soggy and bland.

The boquerones were tart and taut, their firm meat graced by little more than vinegar, garlic, parsley, and a touch of paprika. The anchovies were another matter. I simply could not get them down. Maybe it was the overnight flight, or the stress of travel, or serious concerns over the rampant devaluation of the Euro and its inability to respond to China, but I just couldn't eat those anchovies on that day. "More for me," said Lindsay.

Not to worry as I moved onto the devouring of those green jewels. They were mostly just on the spicy side of a typical green pepper. But in that bunch were one or two that really packed a wallop. Another round of beers settled on the table before my eye caught a big bowl of wild mushrooms on the restaurant't display. Those were sauteed in a bath of olive oil and garlic before being showered with parsley. They were woodsy and deep with hints of herbs. After a glass of sherry, it was time for a well-deserved nap.

Making Boudin

2011-11-01T07:30:00.000-07:00

Otto von Bismarck is oft misquoted with perhaps one of the most untrue statements of all time. (If you are scoring at home, that means he did not say something false.) The great German statesmen reportedly said, "Laws are like sausages- it is best not to watch either being made." While the theory behind this statement is that both are messy processes, a recent attempt at making boudin revealed that such a process is in fact a beautiful way to spend the afternoon.

The quest to make boudin at home began as a way to get geeked up for Boudin & Beer. This event, in conjunction with Emeril Lagasse's Carnivale du Vin will turn The Foundry into a Bastille of Boudin on November 11th. 27 Chefs will ply their interpretations of this most holy marriage of pork and rice all savored next to beer from Abita. We will be there with open stomachs and inappropriate innuendos

Back to the boudin. It began as most forays into cooking new things with well-placed emails to Cochon Butcher and Rare Cuts. The latter would supply me with 30 pounds of frozen pork liver. The former with enough sausage casings to circle a portly child 450 times (approximate). The pork liver defrosted, I carved away two massive livers from the bulk of organ meat sitting in the fridge. A pig's liver, if you have never seen it, is tremendously large. Three main flanks are joined by some connective tissue, it has a deep maroon color, and is shiny as a new coin. Also, it makes you wonder what the hell your liver could possibly look like.

I used as my guide through boudin the recipes encapsulated in Donald Link's Real Cajun and Emeril's Real and Rustic. Like Girl Talk, I mashed them up into a recipe of my liking which looked like this: for every two pounds of pork liver, I added 5 pounds of pork shoulder and 6 cups of rice, along with seasonings. Where Emeril called for green peppers, I subbed in Link's instruction to use jalapenos. The cubed liver, pork shoulder, onions, cayenne, jalapenos, green onions, salt, and pepper went into a large pot. I covered the mix with water and allowed it to simmer for about two hours, all the while skimming the foam that rose to the top.

While that simmered, we rinsed the sausage casing free of the salt they came packed in and dried them. My attempts at threading them onto the sausage stuffing attachment resulting in screaming and tearing of the thin membrane. Eventually, Lindsay had to step in and save the day. (I am setting up Bloggle for a sexually inappropriate joke here).

We ground the meat, liver, and seasoning mixture once through a wide dye on the meat grinder. Then we combined this mixture with the rice and a few too many scoops of the liquid the mixture had cooked in. While I liked the flavor of the boudin - it was rich, livery, hearty, and had a mean streak of spice - it came out a little too soft in the casing. This may also be because I didn't remove the dye when we stuffed it into the casing. Or I added to much boudin stock to the mixture. Or we drank too much beer. But irregardless, as they say in Boudin;s homeland, that is a lesson learned the hard, but delicious way. I'd rather make boudin any day of the week, than even pretend to care about politics.

Burger Bonanza: Tru Burger

2011-10-31T06:40:00.000-07:00

Tru Burger

Burger - Burger patties are thin (I would guess 3oz.) and cooked on a griddle to a perfectly juicy medium. The buns are a bit dense, which helps create a solid foundation for what is a fairly greasy burger. A single burger is not enough, and the double may be just a little too much. Cheese options are sliced cheddar, american or swiss. Standard toppings include leafy romaine, thinly sliced raw onion, tomato, and pickle. Condiments are self applied at the table.

Fries/Rings/Sides - Fries are thin, hot, crispy, salty. When Tru first opened I thought they short changed you with a small amount of fries, but the mountain of fries in my basket last week proved that is no longer the case. Onion rings are absent from the menu. Chili is available as an addition to fries or in a bowl on its own.

Sauce - Tru Sauce is a thick, deep, dark sauce which tastes like A1 on steroids - salty, peppery, and redolent of Asian fish sauce and/or worcestershire. It's an umami thing that pairs very well with grilled onions. Personally though, I prefer mayo-based.

Service/Ambience - The old gelato parlor on Oak Street has the feel of the dining room in a fast food joint and the color scheme to match. Counter service is always smiling and friendly. Food comes out hot, fast, and fresh.

Lagniappe - Big bonus points for serving milkshakes, which are a bargain at $3.50 for a ginormous size. My only gripe is that they use vanilla ice cream for all flavors, but maybe others think that a chocolate shake made from chocolate ice cream would be too rich. I really, really like the Zweigle's hot dog served in the soft, toasted bun.

Price - Single is $4.50 and the Double is $6.50. Add $0.50 for cheese. Fries are $1.99 a la carte.

Overall Assessment - Burger - good. Fries - good. Shake - good. But for me personally, Tru Burger is the most utilitarian of the new burger specialists. It's a burger that I seek out more for sustenance as opposed to satisfying a craving. Where Tru shines brightest is with the specialty burgers, like the Uptowner topped with goat cheese, roasted tomato, arugula, and garlic aioli. But when it comes to your basic burger and fries, Tru and my personal preferences just don't mesh well.

Tru Burger - Par/Birdie

8115 Oak Street
Tues-Thur 11am-9pm; Fri-Sat till 10pm; Sun till 8pm. Closed Mon.
(504) 218-5416

Lunch at MiLa

2011-10-27T06:40:00.000-07:00

Ah, lunch. Once our favorite time of the school day, lunch now often consists of an ever-shortening window of time during which we wolf down a $5 footlong in between meetings, phone calls, and TPS reports. The need for speed is one of the many blessings of the work place, and sometimes we are lucky enough to snag a bag of peanuts from the vending machine to hold off starvation before heading home.

But there is lunch, and then there is lunch. The kind of meal where you transport yourself, if only for 60 minutes, to a place where the rest of the world takes a break from the daily hustle and bustle to allow you to enjoy real food, maybe a glass of wine, and some non-work related conversation before getting back to the grind.

At MiLa, such an experience will only run you $20.

Meals at MiLa still begin with the a basket filled with rolls and thin wedges of firm corn bread presented with miniature cast iron skillets of lima bean puree and cold salted butter. Venison pâté, rustic in appearance but elegant in flavor, is served with creole mustard, thinly sliced cornichon and buttery slices of toasted baguette. $10 well spent to supplement the prix fixe.

Soup or salad begins the prix fix. The novelty of butternut squash soup may have long since passed, but the familiarity of the dish does not detract from the worthiness of MiLa's version, which is enriched with spiced crème fraiche and served with crispy shitake chips and lumps of crabmeat bobbing up and down upon the surface. The salad is a simple composition of organic greens, salty Louisiana feta, sunflower seeds for crunch, and a bright lemon vinaigrette.

On to the main events. I ordered the phyllo crusted redfish on my first visit to MiLa, and three years later here it is still, with the thatched roof of phyllo dough providing a nice crunch to the moist fillet underneath. Israeli couscous, wilted and slightly bitter greens, and a sauce of thickened lobster stock rounds out the dish. For the carnivores, braised veal cheeks (which we have seen on a lot of menus lately) atop a puree of fingerling potatoes.

Dessert is a choice between simple pleasures. The omnipresent vanilla bean rice pudding topped with glazed seasonal berries, blue ones in this case, is a dish whose humble connotation as peasant food is wiped away with just one spoonful. It's just plain good. Or maybe a bowl of housemade ice cream - banana on the most recent visit - topped with crunchy almond streusel.

For those who enjoy a glass of wine with their lunch (only on Fridays, of course), the list at MiLa offers a number of bottles in the $30 range. Service, once the Achilles heel of the restaurant, has markedly improved in terms of both polish and speed. On this most recent visit, the lunch hour need only be extended by a few minutes in order to enjoy a 3 course meal from one of the city's most underrated and often forgotten about restaurants.

Lunch at MiLa - Eagle
$20 for 3 Courses
Mon-Fri 11:30am-2:30pm
817 Common Street at the Pere Marquette Hotel
(504) 412-2580

Cooking With Wine

2011-10-26T08:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a meal just comes together without a plan. When this happens the result is not at all unlike giving a speech. There is the meal you wanted to make, the meal you made, and the meal you should have made. What I intended to make was a pork roast that sat atop firm stewed lentils. What ended up on the plate was a stew of lentils which had thickened the braising liquid by bursting forth from their shells. What I should have done is cook the two separately.

The wine was partially to blame or credit depending on your point of view. Mad Max's offering that week was winemaker Brian Graham's 2009 Parlay "Bookmaker" blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Petite Syrah, Syrah, and Petite Verdot, which kept changing in the glass. There was jammy red fruit, and black pepper, calling to mind that incredible Italian dessert of ripe strawberries with balsamic and black pepper. Sharp and firm tannins led to a quick, pleasing finish. This great everyday red wine retails for about $20 and you can find it at Mondo, Whole Foods, Le Foret, Ste. Marie, Cork & Bottle, and Stanley.

Roast Pork Loin with Lentil Stew

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

A two pound pork loin (not tenderloin) benefits from a brine. If pressed for time, just season with salt for an hour or so before cooking. Rinse off brine and dry thoroughly. Season with salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Sear in olive oil in a dutch oven until brown and crusty on all sides. Remove. Into the pot, add an onion and three carrots roughly chopped. Saute on medium heat for about 10 minutes until softened.

Add in a cup of lentils and a few cloves of garlic. I had red ones which turned a muted orange once cooked. Then 4 cups of water. Add back in the pork roast, bring to a boil and, place in oven, uncovered until pork is cooked through and the lentils have absorbed most of the liquid. Remove pork, allow it to rest for 10 minutes, slice and cube. Taste stew, adjust seasoning - a little cumin at this point is a great idea, a dash of vinegar also. Ladle lentil stew into a shallow bowl, top with diced pork, and leaves of parsley.

The 2011 Fall Dining Guide

2011-10-25T06:40:00.000-07:00

And now, for a little Tuesday morning quarterbacking...

The biggest news in the NOLA dining scene over the weekend was the publication of this year's Fall Dining Guide by the Times Picayune. The guide always features 100 Great Places to Eat, and in a town with more than 1200 restaurants (according to Uncle Tom), there are bound to be many of our favorites who missed the cut.

But if whittling down the list to 100 seems difficult, imagine the task of choosing the Top 10. Each year the Times Pic chooses then restaurants that "uphold New Orleans’ reputation for world-class fine dining."

Here is this year's list, in alphabetical order:

Bayona
Clancy's
Cochon
Domenica
Emeril's
Gautreau's
Herbsaint
La Petite Grocery
Patois
Restaurant August

Would that be my personal Top 10? No. Can a fair argument be made for each of the restaurants on this year's list? Absolutely. Will some people think that Brett Anderson is a moron for not having included _______? Without a doubt.

The guide also includes a list of this year's Top 5 New New Orleans restaurants, as well as interviews with 4 Chefs to Watch, courtesy of Todd Price. My personal favorite segment of this year's guide? Brett Anderson showing honesty to name Popeye's as one of five spots to find red beans and rice. I couldn't agree more. And while we are not holding back the truth, I have a confession to make. I have been known to order a family size red beans and rice for my own personal consumption, only to increase the gluttony by tearing off the skin from a 3 piece order of legs and thighs and adding the crispy fried goodness to my styrofoam container of red beans.

Blackened Out is in the midst of preparing for our own end of the year awards, and we want to know what restaurants would be in your personal Top 10. Think that Stella! was unfairly snubbed or that Boucherie has more class than other restaurants at twice the price? The comments are open for business.

Burger Bonanza: Cowbell

2011-10-24T07:40:00.000-07:00

Cowbell

Burger - This is your typical backyard grill burger all grown up. The thick patty made from all natural beef is one of the most flavorful burgers in the city, and the grill knows what a proper medium-rare burger should look like. The bun is sublime - a soft, toasted potato roll with lots of give. Dressings are served on the side - roma tomatoes (others not in season), thinly sliced red onion, and leafs of iceberg. No pickle though.

Fries/Rings/Sides - Fries are thicker cut and more rustic; not exactly crunchy but crispy enough and delicious. I don't recall if onion rings are on the menu. The macaroni/cavatappi and cheese is a rich and creamy appetizer or burger supplement, though on my most recent visit the $6 portion appeared to have reduced in size by 50%.

Sauce - Agogo sauce is a house made mayo kicked up with sriracha, roasted garlic, honey, and "other stuff." The sweet, garlicky, kind of spicy sauce is unbelievably delicious. I like it slathered on the burger, as a dip for the fries, and as a moisturizer for my skin. Housemade ketchup has a prominent cinnamon flavor, which isn't really my thing.

Service/Ambience - The renovation of this former gas station at the end of Oak Street is a fun, eclecticly adorned, communal space to dine in. Since the weather has turned cool, the seating capacity doubles with tables out front in the parking lot and underneath the overhang. Inside there are a few deuces, several 6 tops which are often shared by multiple parties, and the bar (my favorite place to dine). The staff wears floral patterned aprons which appear to have been pulled straight from Grandma's linen drawer. Motown's greatest hits plays from the speakers, in what can be a very loud dining room.

Lagniappe - Cowbell is not a one hit burger wonder. Clam chowder, doctored up grilled cheese sandwiches, skirt steak, and a general latin flair covers the rest of the menu. The bar pours a short but interesting array of beers, housemade punches, and wines. Corkage is listed at $10,000,000,000 - give or take a few zeroes.

Price - A burger will run you $10.95 plus an extra $1 for cheese, but that price includes a boatload (or more accurately, a red and white checker basket) full of french fries.

Overall Assessment - Unlike most of the other burger specialists recently opened around town, Cowbell is a full service restaurant which just happens to serve one hell of a burger. At $11 for a burger and fries, the cost of food alone is equivalent to that at gourmet burger spots which offer fast-casual service. Sometimes we pay a few dollars more to be waited on, and that is a premium which I will gladly pay for at Cowbell - especially if I can manage to smuggle out a bottle of agogo sauce in The Folk Singer's purse.

Cowbell - Birdie

8801 Oak Street
Tues-Sat 11:30am-3pm; 5pm-10pm (till 11pm on Fri-Sat). Closed Sun-Mon.
(504) 298-8689

You Can't Stop NOLA Brewing, You Can Only Hope to Contain Them

2011-10-21T05:39:00.000-07:00

Photo stolen off of Twitter @NOLABrewing

Trust us, that was the least offensive pun we came up with for a title to this post. As we are sure you know, NOLA Brewing - that rising behemoth of brew, that stalwart of suds - is set to release their New Orleans focused beers in new portable personal mini kegs. These personal mini kegs can travel almost anywhere. From the parade grounds to the parking lot of the Mercedes-Benz Superdome, from the whitish sands of Pass Christian to your Aunt Beatrice's wake, there is literally nowhere you can't take these personal mini-kegs. And unlike big, bulky group kegs, these personal mini kegs are recyclable and come in convenient six and twenty-four packs.

To celebrate the release of the NOLA Blonde personal mini kegs, next Thursday they are taking over Tipitina's starting at 8 p.m. Featuring the music of Colin Lake, Flow Tribe, and Big Sam's Funky Nation, this will be in the words of soon to be married Donnie Boy Riguez, "a stone cold groove". Tickets are $15 which come not only with a personal mini keg but also a personal mini keg insulation device, which is a technological breakthrough on a global scale. These so-called "koozies" keeps a cold beverage colder longer. It does so by protecting the cold aluminum of the can from the warmth of your grubby little paw. So do the math people, $15 clams, 3 bands, 1 beer, and a lifetime of guaranteed cold beer, that is such a good deal Groupon would have passed on it.

On a personal note, the folks at NOLA Brewing have become a symbol of everything is right with New Orleans. We wish them nothing but the best. Now go drink their beer.

Thanksgiving is Coming

2011-10-20T07:11:00.000-07:00

The first real cold snap has arrived. The sun, to borrow from Dan Borne, is finding its home in the Western sky earlier in the evening than just a few weeks ago. All of this can only mean one thing...Thanksgiving, that greatest of American holidays, the ne plus ultra of eating and drinking, the Super Bowl of Bounty, is just five weeks away.

It is time to get serious about Thanksgiving.

First, some self-scouting of last year. The mashed potatoes took a turn for the worse when we all got distracted with catching up. The turkey was done, but someone (read here: me) had forgot to start the potatoes. Cooking on an away field with a pot with more bends and warps in it than a trip with Doc Brown, the potatoes just sat in tepid water never really fully cooking. I tried to force the issue by pushing them through a ricer and then finishing the smaller granules in chicken stock and butter. I do not recommend you try this. The potateos came out gummy and tacky, a travesty of science and technology that should never happen. Lindsay still hasn't forgiven me.

This year I am simplifying things by cooking on home turf, for one. One turkey is going on the Big Green Egg while a boudin stuffed turkey breast is getting roasted in the oven. Mashed potatoes will be the only other thing I cook, besides a gravy. If I can pry the recipe for that corn dish out of the hands of the cooks at Baru, I may try that as well. Of course, I may want to bake some bread in the morning. But first and foremost is atoning for the sins of last year's Thanksgiving. Everyone else is invited, just bring booze and Better Cheddar. The rest will take care of itself. And remember, Thanksgiving is coming.

Winesday

2011-10-19T07:23:00.000-07:00

Rene: Rich spice on the nose; get some coffee and dark berry flavors. The tannins are tight and restricted, wound up like a kid on Halloween. This wine screams out for something like rich duck with crispy skin or maybe lamb braised. Let's split the difference and go with the roast quail with steamed buns from Nine Roses. They also have it at Tan Dinh if you cross the bridge today and find Nine Roses closed.

Peter: This baby needs to open up for a bit to let the peppery flavors mellow out. Not much dryness going down the throat from the tannins. I'm thinking something gamey like venison. How about the wood fired goat at Domenica or the lamb neck from Herbsaint.

Joe the Wine Guy: The Numanthia 2007 is made from 100% Tinta de Toro and is both intense and complex with several layers of aromatics in the lively nose: red and black fruits first, then sweet spices like cinnamon and nutmeg, and then vanilla and toasted black pepper. On the palate, this wine is expresses dark fruits with concentrated and velvety tannins. This full bodied wine shows exceptional acidity revealing some chocolate, toasted, and spicy notes. The juice was aged in new French oak Bordelaise barrels for 18 months. The 2007 Numanthia retails for $59.99 and you can find it at Emeril's and Cork & Bottle.

Dueling Bloggers: Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

2011-10-18T07:11:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday while poking around the Farmer's Market, a devoted reader who is not related to either of us, asked, "You guys should debate restaurants that never change their menus." The reader went on to note that they had gone to Lilette the night before "for about the thousandth time" and that the menu never changes. "We really like Lilette, but come on!" he implored. So without further ado, let's debate menus and restaurants.

Rene: The idea of the ever evolving menu at a restaurant is a relatively new one. Well, that is not entirely true. Places like Chez Panisse and the thousand of French restaurants it was inspired by have served different menus everyday. Certainly a restaurant with an ever changing menu has become very popular in the last ten years. This is mostly due to the proliferation and abundance of farmers markets along with a growing sense of seasonal based cooking. All of which is a long winded way of saying, while I enjoy restaurants that are always challenging themselves to work with what God gives them, I am not sold that a restaurant has to use that formula to be considered great. The idea of a restaurant constantly changing its menu is more a reaction to what the consumer wants. Through magazines, shows, etc... the way a restaurant appeals to consumers is by being "market inspired". While it is a noble and delicious goal, it tends to make many restaurants seem monotonous. I want more personality out of a restaurant.

Peter: You know what lacks personality? Tomatoes in December and oysters in July. Should a chef force himself to use scientifically altered produce and frozen seafood just because his customers want to eat the same crawfish etouffee in November that they did in May? Or does it make more sense for a chef to talk to his suppliers, figure out what the harvest brought this week, and decide what to tailor his menu toward the freshest ingredients available? Changing your menu to reflect the seasons is not monotonous; serving Oysters Rockefeller and Baked Alaska everyday for 170 years is.

Rene: Distilling it down even further, there are chefs the world over who have created dishes people travel to taste. I am thinking of bites like Robuchon's pommes puree, Thomas Keller's Oysters and Pearls, or Drago's chargrilled oysters. Dishes define restaurants. No trip to Herbsaint is complete for me without an order of spaghetti with guanciale and fried poached egg. There is no reason for a menu to change completely when there are dishes that can stand the test of time. I don't begrudge either tactic a restaurant may take, but I get cravings for specific dishes or specific approaches to food more than I get cravings for a specific restaurant. Imagine the horror if you walked into La Boca and learned they had become vegetarian?

Peter: My worst nightmare is walking into La Boca and having Jared tell me that the sweetbreads and hanger steak have been replaced by watermelon carpaccio and eggplant stuffed with bulgur wheat. That being said, I understand that sometimes I can order flash fried brussels sprouts with my skirt steak and other times I have to settle for asparagus. Just as the crops change with the seasons, so do my tastebuds, which is why I'm more likely to opt for a restaurant that serves vichychoisse in the summer instead of one that insists on serving gumbo even when its 110 degrees outside. And maybe if we as consumers are more willing to accept the fact that we can't always order what we want, then our ecosystem will become more sustainable and less reliant on foods with artificial preservatives.

Rene: Take for instance, Boucherie which is always cycling in new dishes, cuisines, and techniques into their repertoire. Go there this month and Indian may be the theme. However, one is always guaranteed to find a few select dishes - the boudin balls, the grit cake with blackened shrimp - never leave. They don't leave the menu because they are an anchor to the chef's vision. A constantly changing menu is a sign of a chef who is both continuing to learn and also unsure of his or her food personality. I don't mean to say a chef should ever stop learning and expanding, but rather I like them to know a hit when they taste it.

Peter: You have enunciated what is known as the Great Compromise, a/k/a the Three-Fifths Compromise. If a restaurant allocates 60% of its menu to the greatest hits and the other 40% to dishes comprised of seasonal ingredients or the chef's own innovations, then harmony is achieved both by giving the people what they have come to expect from the kitchen and by allowing the chef enough room both to stay creative and to take advantage of nature's cycle. Boucherie and Herbsaint are great examples, but Susan Spicer has it down to a science at Bayona. On the left side of the menu are the signature dishes - goat cheese crouton, garlic soup, sweetbreads with sherry mustard - and on the right side of the menu are the nightly specials that change with the chef's whim and whatever raw ingredients are available. A little something for everyone.

Burger Bonanaza: The Company Burger

2011-10-17T06:40:00.000-07:00

Editor's Note: Welcome to Burger Bonanza, Blackened Out's newest series which catches fire for a few weeks before our boredom and laziness lead to unfulfilled expectations. (At least we are consistent in delivering disappointment.) The humble hamburger - that most American of all foods - has taken New Orleans by storm over the past 12 months. Burger specialists have been popping up all over town, and with many claiming that they serve the best burger in the city, figuring out which burger best fits your taste/budget might require consuming more ground beef than your cardiologist is comfortable with. Thankfully, last month we found a great deal on black market Lipitor, so we are free to survey the current burger fad and report back on our experiences.

The Company Burger

Burger - The namesake burger is modeled off the Holeman & Finch burger, where owner Adam Biderman trained. Two thin patties (maybe 4oz. each), bread and butter pickles, lots of melted American cheese, and thinly sliced red onions. The burger patties are cooked medium and turn out flavorful and juicy. The sweetness of the bread and butter pickles is different, but it works well. Props for using freshly baked brioche buns, but as a personal preference I think that the bun is a bit too firm and that the bread to meat ratio is tilted too far in favor of the former.

Fries/Rings/Sides - Fries are thick and long, crisp but not crunchy, and pair well with the burger. The serving size though left me wanting more. Red onions are used for the rings; the crunchy batter adhered well to the thick rings, but they are a bit greasy. Tater tots, sweet potato fries, and pimento cheese round out the rest of the menu.

Sauce - The “Mayo Bar” allows you to customize with roasted garlic, bacon, chipotle versions and more. The basil mayo is great for french fry dipping.

Service/Ambience - Order at the counter and wait for your name to be called. Service at the counter is not exactly rapid fire, but the wait for your food is not long at all. Dining room features tall ceilings, lots of polished steel, and TVs for game watching. Table seating for about 40 and bar seating for 10. Adam Biderman is a very involved owner and his presence is reassuring that a firm hand is on the wheel of this ship.

Lagniappe - Menu also includes a turkey burger (excellent), pork belly corndog (as good as it sounds), and hot dog from Cochon Butcher (never had it). Drinks are taken seriously, whether your thirst is quenched with a cocktail, beer, or freshly squeezed lemonade, which is tart and sweet and refreshing.

Price - The namesake burger is $8.50, and the single runs in the $6 range. Fries are a la carte at $2.

Overall Assessment - Some people hate on using American cheese, but I actually like it. The most common complaint that I have heard/read about The Company Burger is that the prices are too high. I can't really disagree - The Folk Singer and I once spent $30 on 2 burgers, an order of rings, order of fries, coke and a lemonade. (No booze for those of you paying attention at home.) Still, this is a very good burger, in my opinion. One worth spending money on.

The Company Burger - Birdie

4600 Freret Street
Sun-Mon & Wed-Sat 11am-3pm, 5pm-10pm. Closed Tuesdays.
(504) 267-0320

Weekend Roundup

2011-10-14T06:40:00.000-07:00

When the Tigers and Saints are away, the locals have time to play... as is the case this weekend with a number of festivals around town. We're covering the gamut from oysters and BBQ to schnitzel and gumbo, so bring an appetite.

Crescent City Blues & BBQ Festival - There will be BBQ, the blues, and plenty of cold beer being served at Lafayette Square this weekend, and the Abita Sports Bar will be setup to ensure that you don't miss any of the games on Saturday or Sunday.

Magic in the Moonlight - Justin Devillier and Aaron Burgau will be taking their chef talents on the road to the Botanical Gardens in City Park, where they be will teaming up to cook up a feast for those dining under the stars at City Park. A few tickets are still available at $75, and they can be purchased online.

Violet Oyster Festival - Starting this evening and through the weekend, Our Lady of Lourdes Church will play host to a celebration in honor of the crown jewel of our local seafood industry. Whether you like your oysters raw on the half shell, grilled, or in po-boy form, they've got you covered.

Oktoberfests - There are two going on this weekend - Heiner Brau at the Covington Trailhead and the Deutsches Haus, whose members will be doing the chicken dance in exile at River Town in Kenner. Who doesn't love a good knockwurst?

Bridge City Gumbo Festival - For the next three days, volunteers from Holy Guardian Angels Mission will be across the Huey P Long serving up over 2000 gallons of seafood and chicken/sausage gumbo. So head on over to the Westbank for a funnel cake and a fais-do-do. There will even be a beautiful child contest (I shit you not) for you parents whose rugrats failed to make the cut for the final season of Showbiz Moms & Dads.

Ancora

2011-10-13T07:40:00.001-07:00

Photo by renee b. photography.

For our "Dining Out" column in the October issue of OffBeat Magazine, we take a closer at Ancora, Adolfo Garcia's newest restaurant which pays homage to Neopolitan pies. The team behind Ancora includes Jeff Talbot, the overlord of the oven whom you may remember from a previous interview, and Kris Doll, the sultan of salumi who flies under the radar but deserves much praise.

It's tough to decide which we like more about Ancora - the smoky, wood-fired pies which Jeff pulls from the oven or Kris's cured meats which are rustically presented on the cutting board. The simple solution is to combine the two, which Ancora's "Pizza of the Day" often does. One unforgettable version was composed of a creamy marscarpone base, light tomato sauce, leafy arugula, and speck that would make nolawineguy abandon veganism.

But all of this artisan craftsmanship comes at a price that can creep up on those who tend to go overboard with their orders and enjoy a nice bottle of wine with their meals (which we often do), so make sure to bring either your wallet or your self control.

Ancora - Birdie
4508 Freret Street
(504) 324-1636
Mon-Sat 5:30pm - 10pm

Cooking with Wine

2011-10-12T07:33:00.000-07:00

Today's episode is brought to you by the Texas Board of Tourism. In case you haven't heard, Texas and its various boards, commissions, cowboys, and people who love big hair paid a whole 10 gallon hat of money to have Top Chef film in its various locales. Now, me personally, I don't see anything wrong with that. What I can't understand is why they didn't pay any money to keep Most Eligible Dallas from airing. Such a boneheaded decision really has me question their supposed supremacy in things like "living" or "modern cities" or "producing good football teams".

Chili is revered by Texans like Ted Hall who once threatened to kill me if I ever included beans in a bowl of Texas Red. Pinto beans always make me think of some stagecoach cook shutting up a guy named Slim with a scoop from a dutch oven. Couple this with bottle of zinfandel from Mad Max that had me thinking of something spicy and tomato strewn and the stage was set to make a chili that would send a Texan running to the Alamo. I used torn, dried chiles to bring not just heat, but a fragrant fruitiness to the party. Some kale chips (wash, dry, olive oil, salt 300 degree oven for 20 minutes) were the crowning jewel on a mockery fiercer than any Tony Romo joke.

All of this got along very well with the 2009 Saldo Zinfandel released by Orin-Swift wines made under the stewardship of owner/winemaker Dave Phinney. Zinfandel is a wine that wants something robust and brash, and making fun of Texas sure is. The wine retails for around $28 and you can find it at Sylvain, Whole Foods, Iris, Commander's Palace, K-Paul's, Wine Seller, and Maximos.

Messed With Texas Red

Soak 1 pound of pinto beans overnight or while at work. In a Dutch oven, saute over medium heat one whole onion diced with two or three jalapenos diced fine. While that melts, de-stem and de-seed one dried ancho chili and cut into roughly one inch squares. Add these to the pot, and cook for a minute or so. The heat will soften them. Now add in a tablespoon of chopped garlic along with a teaspoon of cumin, a hearty pinch of oregano, and a teaspoon of chili powder. Stir so the spices can absorb some of the oil.

After a minute or so, add a tablespoon of tomato paste. Stir. Let cook for about 2 minutes (doing so deepens the flavor). Deglaze with half a bottle of beer and a 1/4 cup of apple cider vinegar. Once the beer has mostly evaporated, add in a 28 ounce can of whole tomatoes and their juice. Using the back of a spoon mash the tomatoes. Drain beans from soaking water and add to the pot along with a quart of water. Bring to a boil, lower to a simmer and cook uncovered until beans are tender and the sauce is thick..

Crown with queso blanco, parsley, the kale chips, and a dig at Mack Brown's coaching prowess.

Short Order Reviews

2011-10-11T07:33:00.000-07:00

Midway Pizza: The yin to Ancorra's yang (or vice versa, Atlanta rappers not being a strong suit of this writer). Midway is a loud, brashy spot serving out an homage to Chicago's deep dish take on pizza. Where the focus at Ancorra is less is more, at Midway more is not enough. And the philosophy at both works. We started with a House Salad, which was thankfully dressed perfectly with a barely there Champagne vinaigrette. The polenta croutons need to be reworked, ours arrived leaden and tasting of grease. A decent opening salvo, now onto the 'Za. The #18 stole the show with pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, onion and green pepper. I expected the meatballs on the King Leon to be overcooked and dry, but what came forth were juicy, plump, and delicious. The crust at Midway is a khaki colored, two inch deep crispy bowl for the toppings it delivers. This may not be pizza you are used to, but it is worth finding out for sure. A very solid beer list anchors what may be one of the city's best spots to grab a beer and some pies. Birdie.

Fat Hen Grocery: The corner of Cherokee and St. Charles has gone through roughly seventy-four ownership changes in the last few years. But there is hope that the most recent opening of the Fat Hen brand by Chef Shane Pritchett is here to stay. First, the interior tugs on a carnivore's heartstrings with a wall portraying every cut from a chicken, pig, and beef. Plus, over the bar there rests a Warhol painted pig. Moving our eyes from the walls to the plate, we gazed upon a Seersucker platter strewn with smoked sausage, creamy pimento cheese, thick slices of raw onion, celery, carrots and pickles. Bringing all this together are gaufrettes of potato as thin as newspaper. The barbecue sauce, available for purchase this being a grocery, is spicy and sharp. The tree hugger omelet would have been improved with a crustier English muffin and larger chunks of crabmeat. The pulled pork was smoky and well-seasoned but a toss in the barbecue sauce rather than it just drizzling on bun would have put this sandwich up there with the Muffaletta and the Po Boy. Par/Birdie.

Baru: A nice fall night sitting outside with a bottle of Torrontes and 2005 Rioja set up an incredible dinner. Plus, how can you match the ambiance of sitting next to a couple who decided 8 pm on a Saturday night was a good time to take a one year old and a two year old out to dinner? But the food more than made up for that glitch. First came, those incredibly light and crisp empanadas, plumped with ground beef and graced by chimichurri. Then the savory mazorca, a corn casserole of sorts that may have just gained a spot at the Thanksgiving table. Next, the ceviche, the black drum firm and the avocado adding richness against the acidic leche de tigre. The fried oysters did not disappoint either with a crisp crust and creamy interior crowned by a tuft of caramelized onions. The arepas were a misfire with dry pork and chalky corn cakes. But the mixed grill with chorizo, shrimp, and skirt steak sitting atop a loose but vibrant chimichurri made the arepa misstep nothing but a distant memory. Baru is the best BYOB in the city, and a dinner for two at $86 with tax and tip makes it a culinary jewel. Birdie/Eagle.

Shrimp & Grits

2011-10-10T06:40:00.000-07:00

Shrimp & Grits at La Petite Grocery.

"What is a good place for shrimp and grits in FQ?"

Such read the text message from a friend whose wife was in town for a convention a few weeks back. I initially considered replying with: "You know that shrimp and grits is a South Carolina thing, right? How do you feel about grillades?" But the culinary geography lesson probably would have just spurned him into hounding me for an answer.

Still, I drew a blank. Where does one find shrimp and grits in the French Quarter and in New Orleans on the whole? Even though some of us may toss aside this imported dish as something far too inferior to be included in the list of iconic New Orleans breakfast dishes (if it ain't got hollandaise, why bother?), for quite a few years shrimp and grits has been an unstoppable rebel force like an LSU defense led by the Honey Badger. The popularity is unsurprising. We love our grits, and Lord knows we have fantastic local shrimp. Putting the two together seems as obvious a marriage as any.

Personally, I am not big on seafood at breakfast time, which is why I did not have much first hand experience to draw upon in answering my friend's question. According to my notes, the last time I ordered shrimp and grits was at La Petite Grocery, whose version I recall was studded with bits of porky goodness. I don't recall any pork products in the shrimp and grits that I tasted in Charleston a few years back, but has there ever been a time when the addition of bacon has not improved a dish? Still, I harken back to my first ever experience with shrimp and grits, which was the work of former Galatoire's chef Brian Landry (who spent a few years in Charleston), who cooked the "authentic" version for one Sunday breakfast at his mother's house.

My friend's wife ended up at Mr. B's as the closest option to her hotel, and she reported back that the shrimp and grits were delicious. But ever since this question came up, I have had a hankering for the dish. So where should I go? Dante's Kitchen and EAT are often mentioned in the discussion as two of the top choices. Luke, Surrey's, and Upperline all have shrimp and grits on their menu. How about the shrimp over grit cake at Muriel's? Or will I head back to LPG? Let us know which local restaurant serves your favorite version of shrimp and grits in the comments.

T.G.I.F.

2011-10-07T07:28:00.000-07:00

As the great philosopher Katherine von Perry once said, "Tis a blacked out blur, but thou art pretty sure it ruled." Fridays are the day you long for all week. No one ever makes plans for, say Tuesday, but run into someone on the street and you are bound to ask, "What are yall doing Friday; we should get together."

Well, Friday is here. And soon five p.m. will roll around and you will get a familiar itch to grab a drink or go to dinner. You know just something quiet. Before you know it, it is 3 in the morning and you are desperately pounding on the door of the soon to be Taco Bell on Claiborne demanding a Big Beef Chimichanga and 3 Mexican Pizzas. Hey, it happens. Thank God.

If you haven't been yet, today would be a nice time to check out The Irish House by Chef Matt Murphy. Situated on St. Charles, on a nice night, they open the windows wide to bring in the sounds of the rolling streetcar and passing folk. The walls are covered in Guinness and other Irish bric-a-brac and there is a warm, welcoming vibe. A solid selection of beers, whiskeys, and other libations anchors a physical dominating bar space. There are tables and a tv or two scattered throughout, solid food as well. All of the above makes for a pleasant way to ease into ~~a long night at the Red Eye~~ er, an Adult evening.

But perhaps the biggest reason you should go to The Irish House is because of the wings. Allow me a story. For one glorious summer, I lived down in the British Virgin Islands, filled dive tanks, and piloted boats around the various islands of what may be the prettiest place in the Western Hemisphere. This is when I was still "Pre Law". Anyway, the island was nuts for wings. The three Pusser's on the island each had a slightly different version. The one in Sopers Hole had the best with a tamarind rich, spicy sauce.

But all wings paled in comparison to those at the Bat Cave in Road Town Harbor. From 4 to 6 wings were .25 cents a piece and buckets of Caribs $5. As soon as the day would end, we piled into a maroon F-150 and drove the fifteen minutes through snaking roads which hugged the sea and clung to the mountains to get to Road Town. Once there we flat out destroyed some wings and drank beers under the setting sun.

The wings at Irish House, while not traditional, fit very closely to those hallowed wings from the now departed Bat Cave. They come in a thicker, smokier sauce which more aligns with barbecue sauce than the sauce that put Buffalo on the map. The garlic aioli, is just a tad too garlicky, which means it is right on point. While I may not be 20 anymore, a few dozen wings and a good dose of beer after a hard day's work can take me right back.

Have a great Friday, wherever you end up.

Short Order Reviews

2011-10-06T07:40:00.000-07:00

It's time for everyone's favorite Blackened Out segment - Short Order Reviews. Now with 50% off the length and even less depth.

That's what she said.

Palace Cafe - Group dinners are inherently tough to execute because it's nearly impossible to insure that all of the food will be served hot. Hence, it's not quite fair to judge a restaurant based on a special event meal, but that's all we do around here is judge. (Just ask Legend and The Pope.) All 120 of us started with the crabmeat cheesecake, which had a light and smooth texture, but not much crabmeat or crab flavor, sitting atop a ground pecan crust. The generous slice was topped with mushrooms sauteed in an overly salty meuniere that was the color of dark chocolate. More crabmeat, less salt, and this could be a really fine dish. Entree choices were drum and a petite filet, both of which were overcooked and served with jazzed up mashed potatoes that should have been left alone. Of course, we all finished with white chocolate bread pudding - rich, buttery, and no discernable white chocolate taste. Bogey/Par.

The Lucky Ladle - This sleepy little spot on Magazine Street specializes in breakfast, and The Folk Singer and I gave it a go for Sunday brunch. Menu is simple but to the point of being uninspired, and the prices are cheap. Breakfast panini ($6.50) had an excellent buttery crispy exterior and gooey filling of egg, bacon, and melting Kraft singles. Call me crazy but the cheese made the sandwich. Accompanying side of home fries were frozen minuscule dices of potato cooked on the griddle but soft and mushy instead of crispy. Grits were terribly bland, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a salt shaker. Bacon and brown sugar waffle was a thick, pillowy round with not much flavor from either of the namesake ingredients. Service was friendly, and the sidewalk table with blue plastic chairs are a nice place to take your morning meal if you simply don’t feel like doing the dishes. Bogey/Par.

Nonna Mia - A group of us were famished after unsuccessfully grazing at the Martini Madness event at City Park a few weeks ago, and Nonna Mia was the only restaurant which was happy to seat a table of 16 at 10:30pm. There were no (perceptible) grumblings from the staff either, which earns extra points for service in my book. The courtyard was a nice setting on a cool September night. Peroni on tap - gotta like that. Salads and bruschetta used lettuce and tomatoes that were flavorless and poorly executed. The pizzas, on the other hand, surprised me. The crust was yeasty and pliable, the sauce and toppings of respectable quality, and the pies in toto tasted pretty good actually. Understand that Nonna Mia plays AA ball while Domenica and Ancora are in the major leagues. But I would put this pizza on par with your favorite local spot. Birdie for Ambience & Service; Par for Food.

Winesday

2011-10-05T07:29:00.000-07:00

Rene: Crisp and mineral this wine has a faint taste of salt, the ocean. I get a little bit of citrus, like a squirt of grapefruit. It is a perhaps a little heavy for an aperitif, but it definitely needs seafood. Maybe some fried seafood, but not in a heavy batter. I'd want a batter more resembling tempura, so maybe the fried Gulf shrimp with sambal and grapefruit that is always on the menu at Coquette. Or ditch the batter and go with the marinated Spanish anchovies with stewed onions from Lilette. If you choose the latter, just make sure your date will kiss you regardless.

Peter: This is a nicely balanced wine. Kind of heavy in the mouth, a little buttery but not overly oaky or rich. This wine tastes like a pear with a little effervescence. Would go well with the Veal Alyssa from Mr. John's playing nicely with the saltiness of the capers and the tang of the lemon beurre blanc.

Joe the Wine Guy: 93% Pinot Grigio and 7% Chardonnay make up this 2009 Stellina di Notte Pinot Grigio. This is a gorgeous fresh, dry white wine with fragrant floral, fruit, and spice aromas. The silky flavors are filled with pear, kiwi, melon, honey, and spice notes that culminate in a lemony finish. This Pinot Grigio makes the perfect aperitivo and pairs well with light, fresh salads and seafoods. The wine retails for $12.99 and you can find it on the wine list at Byblos and Cafe Amelie.

Editor's Note: When we saw the price of this wine, it became clear of all the wines tasted in this series, this may be the best value we have run across. Thanksgiving is coming; stock up for Aunt Gertrude.

Prune-hibitionists

2011-10-04T07:11:00.000-07:00

The New York Times Magazine Food and Drink issue came out this past Sunday, and perhaps not unexpectedly, the pages are chock full of preachy diatribes against this mythical creature Big Food. Proper diets, foods to avoid, and making your own mayonnaise to preserve the sanctity and control over your food are just some of the topics broached. If you happen to be watching Ken Burns excellent Prohibition documentary, you could draw a parallel between the two movements. Both movements had a no nonsense women leading the charge in Carrie Nation and Alice Waters. Both pushed the morality of their position as being superior, "Do it for the children" being a common refrain. Both lobbied for legislation that sought to tell other people how to act.

There is a much dichotomy (or polychotomy) taking place in the food atmosphere. Like everything in America (and the world, save China), the camps can be divided into two major political parties. On one hand, you have the Conservative Food Camp. Their food is marked by a return to traditional cuisines, ancient produce speakign for iteslf, and resurrecting nearly lost methods of preserving. The Progressives are tinkerers, their kitchens resembling laboratories with compounds, powders, stabilizers, and liquid nitrogen lining the walls. Their food challenges, plays tricks on the mind, and involves processes more advanced than putting a man on the moon.

Open a food magazine. Read the Wall Street Journal's list of the next best restaurant. Both camps get equal praise, at times even hagiographic treatment. Both camps have a common enemy in Big Food and most of their followers try and focus on seasonality. Their main complaint against this faceless enemy is that Big Food alters the flavor/texture/specialness of this vegetable, that meat, or those fruits. The resulting logic goes on to say, a chef wants his squash or scallop or pork belly pristine and heirloom. As if the gourd took a time machine from 1867 into modern times, forgetting that both plants themselves as well as humans evolve. Big Food on the other hand delivers to them a tasteless grape or a ribe eye marbled by grain and not clover.

Fine. But aren't chefs doing the same thing to food that Big Food is? Consider the de facto sign of a "With It, Conservative" chef: the housemade charcuterie plate. Taking excess pork, salting it, grinding it, and hanging it in a temperature controlled cave for 90 days changes the texture of that pig's noble sacrifice. Pickling a cucumber changes the flavor of a cucumber. A caponata of summer's last eggplant to guild the lily is a far cry from that pristine specimen they plucked from the Farmer's Market.

On the progressive side, they tend to change the ideas of a particular dish. So they might make a syrup out of cherries and freeze it with liquid nitrogen. They will shave that over a sous vide duck breast covered with a blowtorch crisped duck skin. They may serve this with a bowl of foie gras "consomme" where the liquid has been spherified to resemble Dippin Dots. This is a drastic change from roast duck with cherry sauce. (Although it sounds delicious, file that in the To Do list.)

For the majority of human history, cooks, butchers, camp wardens, and the women who stayed home from the hunt have sought to keep food fresh by a variety of manipulative processes. Salting, smoking, pickling, drying, and freezing food are not new concepts. Once man had excess food, he or she quickly learned to preserve it for a time when there may not be enough food. What is new from the Big Food angle, is they "preserve" food prior to it reaching maturity. A tomato is bred to ripen on the shelves and not on the vine. Bananas have toughened to withstand the long journey from interior forest to downtown Cleveland. Cattle are raised on grain and slaughtered earlier to get them to market quicker to satisfy the demand for beef. These decisions change the thing subjected to this treatment, but prior to it getting into the hands of the cook.

Look, I am not saying Big Food is a godsend or any chef trying to serve seasonal food, a demon. Rather everyone in the food chain, be it Big Food, a salami artisan in Portland, or a high wire Modernist chef in Stockholm, are all altering food in some way. The debate is just one of degree, not of substance. We ought be careful with this crusade against any food or soon gangsters will have a new vice to deal in.

Tastes of Fall

2011-10-03T07:40:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday afternoon The Folk Singer and I were leaving a boudin experiment at Rene's house (more on that in the future) and driving home to presumably waste the rest of the afternoon on the couch - her napping and me watching football, when we decided that it was just too damn nice outside to do anything else but have a few adult beverages while enjoying the beautiful weather. We ended up sharing a few pints across the street in the courtyard at Happy's and then retreating back to the outdoor deck at our apartment building for a bottle of burgundy. Exactly where we went was not important, as long as air conditioning was not required.

It's said that two best months in New Orleans are October and March. As much as I enjoy March Madness, Hogs for the Cause, and St. Patrick's Day, if pressed I would have to choose the month of Columbus Day, LSU-Florida, and All Hallows Eve as my favorite. It's not so much about the month itself as it is the days leading up to it. There is something truly magical about that first cold snap after enduring 4-5 months of 90 degree temperatures and 100% humidity.

Besides marking the end of summer casual dress at the office, the autumnal equinox also signals a personal shift in seasonal eating and drinking.

Gin and tonics are fine in the spring and summer, but cool fall temperatures call for the warmth of bourbon, even when it's mixed with sprite in a 44oz. Tiger Stadium cup. Along those same lines, we have been slowly depleting our stock of rosé and sauvignon blanc to make room for a new crop of Spanish rioja, California cabernet, and Oregon pinot. Those fall wine club shipments come right on time.

On the table, it's out with the gazpacho and crabmeat salad and in with the pulled pork and roasted cauliflower. The mercury is low enough to actually enjoy cooking our favorite one pot dishes, and The Folk Singer obliged yesterday with a huge pot of bolognese simmering away on the stove for about 6 hours. It's also time to fire up the Big Green Egg, which Rene used this weekend to slow smoke a brisket whose juicy flesh was almost as flavorful as it's rosemary rubbed bark. Pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies, and pumpkin bread pudding abound.

What are your favorite fall flavors?

New Orleans on Tap

2011-09-30T06:40:00.000-07:00

If there is ever an acceptable time for LSU to have an 11:00am home game, it might as well be tomorrow.

About the same time that the Tigers will be finishing up with Kentucky, this year's New Orleans on Tap will be kicking off at the big lake in City Park. This 5 hour fiasco features food, live music, and over 200 beers for you to sample. Most of our local breweries will be pouring, including Tin Roof Brewing, whose co-owner was/is the smartest man in my law school class. Be on the lookout for a Blackened Out & Tin Roof collaboration at some point in the near future...

All of this fun in the name of supporting of the Louisiana SPCA. So if you're like me in that you would do anything in order to avoid having to watch another one of those gut wrenching Sarah McLachlan animal cruelty commercials, then get out to City Park and drink some beer on Saturday.

A Vintnerview with Michelle Gueydan

2011-09-29T07:29:00.000-07:00

Michelle Gueydan left New Orleans after high school for college in New York. After college she worked for then gubernatorial candidate Mark Warner and then a job as a private event manager eased her into the wine world. She returned to New Orleans where she is in an integral member in three wine related businesses. At Swirl, she is a "wino" helping customers choose a wine to take home. As the principal in VinoSolutions she outsources sommelier expertise to restaurants and home collectors to organize and build their wine holdings. Recently, Gueydan partnered with Brian Dias to start NOLAWineSpeak, a wine education company. Twentyish questions on the clock....

I was in college in upstate New York. Had done most my partying in high school so when I got to college found partying sort of boring and focused more on studying. Close to college was the Finger Lakes region which makes a lot of wines, so one day I just volunteered to help pull leaves at a vineyard. It was there I first learned wine could be art and not just pink stuff that got you drunk.

I had been working for a few years as the event planner for a guy who owned a real estate asset management company. My boss also did a lot of philanthropic work with Quincy Jones so we were always planning dinners of some sort. Or we were flying to a dinner and talking about wine while reading food and wine magazines. So originally pairing was something of a foray into an unknown world, but I still knew very little about wine. After a series of events on the Mediterranean, I hadn't slept in a week. I was sitting on a yacht and the steward came over and asked if I'd like a glass of wine. I said sure, whatever you have. She brought a white wine that was so perfumey and unctuous that I asked what is this. She said Chardonnay and I didn't believe her. From then on, wine became a side passion and then an obsession.

Well, that bottle of Meursault on the yacht. But I don't remember the producer or vintage or anything like that. The other bottle I chase and will never catch again was a 1905 Chateau La Tour. I was in Colorado helping my boss organize his cellar before leaving to start a job in a tasting room in Alexe Corton when I got a call that the French government would not allow an American girl such a prestigious job. So I was pretty despondent and my boss cheered me up by asking, "What should we open?" I told him the 1905 La Tour was leaking a bit. So he pulled down that bottle, a 1929 Mouton, a 1950 Haut Brion, and a 1961 Petrus. Of all those bottles, the 1905 was far and away the best with the fruit still prominent after over 100 years.

I never thought I wanted to come back to New Orleans. All of my family here has died, so there was nothing to come back to, until Katrina. And then I felt a really strong urge to come home. At the time, I was the sommelier at the Inn at Little Washington. Came down here and got a job with John Besh as sommelier at August. In general the position of sommelier in New Orleans is not as supported as a free standing position in a restaurant as in other cities. In other cities, if you are the sommelier on the floor, it is your job to help guests select wine and manage the wine list of the restaurant. As a sommelier in New Orleans you are expected to be a manager as well. So I've had this idea of a sommelier education program to make more sommeliers truly sommeliers in New Orleans. But it was just an idea until I met Brian. The goal is to see be progressing with our wine thought in New Orleans. And that is what we want to do with NOLAWineSpeak.

I can't stand formulated wine descriptions. The one I hate the most is gooseberry. I didn't have the slightest clue what a gooseberry tasted like when I started learning about Sauvignon Blanc as tasting of gooseberry. I still dont know what a gooseberry tastes like. But people use that term as if everyone is eating gooseberries all the time. Other thing I hate is wine descriptors that are awful images but used in a positive context like "wet dog" or "barnyard". Who wants to drink a wet dog?

Best way to ease the tension with customers who are apprehensive about wine is just to start a conversation with the guest. Find out what they are interested in, what they are in the mood for, what do they normally prefer to drink. Sometimes people ask me what I like to drink and I tell them it depends on the day.

Rose. Across the board there is no wine better suited for New Orleans cuisine. A dry rose, with good fruit, good weight, and good acidity is nearly perfect match for the spiciness of our food. Always enjoyed rose, but I really started liking them with food when I moved back to New Orleans.

I hate the single palate based point systems which dominate the wine world. There is value in ratings that are group efforts but just go to off a single palate? I don't like that. I went to Bourdeaux to barrel taste the '05s. We were tasting 200 wines a day and there were a lot of us. But every winery was waiting for the scores of Robert Parker before prices could be set. You could sense the stress in the room and in all of the producers while awaiting Parker's judgment.

If I made a wine, it would be an eclectic, off the beaten path varietal that would challenge me to make it into a single varietal bottling. Turning something that is usually just blended with other grapes into its own wine that is what I love and it would be a limited bottling all hand sold.

Windows on the World. Extremely Pale Rose. A great book for the intro level person is The Wine Bible. Karen MacNeil does a very good job of adding fun tidbits and making wine an interesting read. All that said, I prefer to read magazines and newsletters like Decanter and Food and Wine for wine info. Mostly because wine is always changing and books are sometimes outdated by the time the fifth chapter is written.

I like that people are more adventuresome with their palates. Nowadays, people are open to try other varieties other than Chardonnay and Cabernet. On a winemaking level the focus on sustainability and artisinal approaches are things I really like.

To enhance enjoyment at home, try new things but try them with food to make the daily task of having dinner a grander experience. Really try and think about how the flavor profiles of wine and food could work together.

Yes, but I have been pretty fortunate in that I've normally been offered a taste and not have to think, "Man, I wish I could drink that." But I found that while at August, visitors, New Yorkers specifically, thought their expertise outshined that of any local sommelier. So they would often not offer me a sip.

Vietnamese - Riesling. Tex-Mex- Tequila, my second favorite thing to drink. American Chinese - An Austrian Gruner Veltliner. Crawfish Boil - Rose.

I've pretty much drank through most of my collection I had built up. Former employer called and said he had been diagnosed with cancer and wanted to know what the most expensive bottles in his cellar were because he was going to drink them, chemo be damned. So I thought, why am I holding all these wines that one day I may never be able to drink? I had First Growth Bourdeaux and Italian wines that I drank. I still have some 1982 Margaux, Lafitte, Mouton, older Pahlmeyer. But what do I drink? My heart is in Burgundy, my pocketbook in Spain. I drink Tempranillo and Albarino. Also, drink a lot of boxed wine. James Moises is releasing a boxed Oregon Pinot (at right) that is pretty amazing in my book. Higher quality boxed wine with no chance of spoiling is on the rise.

Boucherie. Nathaniel (Zimet) and James (Denio) have managed to build a wine list that presents wines off the beaten path at an affordable price point that don't intimidate. And then of course, Commander Dan at Commander's Palace. From a revered wine list stand point, Commander's Palace best in town. From a consumer's point of view, Boucherie.

Boucherie, Cowbell, Herbsaint, and Coquette. Ohh and can I add Patois, I can't just pick four restaurants?

Hall and Oates - Chardonnay. Not because it is cheesy, but because it is a wine that was really popular back in the day. Mozart- German Gerwurtztriminer. Dr. Dre- Australian Shiraz.

Most memorable food and wine experience was at 2941 Restaurant in Virginia. The wine was a Madeira. The dish a soup sort of similar to our version of turtle soup but not quite the same. Madeira was new to me and the combination of it with the food created a third flavor, different than either the soup or the wine which enhanced both the soup and the wine. Just a great pairing.

Desert Island wines? That is tough. 1905 Latour. 1990 E. Guigal La Landonne. Aged Vouvray-Huet would be first choice, but it doesn't matter. I just love aged Vouvray and we need more of it. Sake Daiginjo. Meursault, nothing specific because I like to many producers.

Cooking With Wine

2011-09-28T08:30:00.000-07:00

The term Indian Summer is thrown around a lot right now. Near as I can tell it is the last few days of September when the days feel like summer and the nights fall. Well here in New Orleans, it is still just hot, but there are rumors of fall in the air. Sunday afternoon was one of those perfect Indian Summer days and it was time to grill. But this time in lieu of beef, pork, or chicken, we opted to grill shrimp.

Mad Max had provided the perfect wine for grilled shrimp. As the man himself says,"The 2008 Pinot Blanc from cult winemaker, Robert Foley, is vinified with total focus on the fruit characteristics of the Pinot Blanc grape - effusive peach and gardenia blossom notes in the bouquet, a broad and fresh mouth feel with a lingering fruity finish. The wine was vinified entirely in stainless steel to preserve the freshness of fruit, no oak barrels, no malolactic fermentation." You can find it at Carte des Vins, Rib Room, Stella!, Herbsaint, NOLA, and Coquette. This wine retails for around $25 and is best drank out of a mason jar to complete the summertime ensemble.

Good enough for good times I say. The recipe we used came out of Mario Batali's excellent Italian Grill cookbook. It is really more of a technique than a recipe as he uses it throughout the book to add a crunchy, charred crust to proteins. As you will see below, a bread crumb sort of pesto kicks ass on the grill. Batali also calls for a piastra- a flat metal sheet over a roaring fire- in this recipe. Not having one and channeling inner MacGyver, I just flipped over a cast iron skillet and used its flat underside.

Shrimp Spiedini alla Romagnola

First combine 1 bunch of Italian parsley, 1 bunch basil, 2 cups fresh bread crumbs, a hefty pinch of salt, black pepper, and 1/4 cup of olive oil. I added a little bit of lemon zest because yellow and green look good together. You blend all of that into a paste in a food processor, blender, or mortar and pestle, if you aren't into that whole brevity thing. Toss two pounds of peeled and deveined shrimp into this paste and coat well.

Now thread the shrimp onto some rosemary sprigs that you have removed the leaves from and soaked in water. Or you could use bamboo skewers. Or if you are afraid of pokey things, just place them directly on grill. After skewering all the shrimp, leave in the fridge for about 30 minutes while you get your fire cranking.

Take a cast iron pan (or piastra if you fancy), flip it over and place it over the hottest part of the grill. Let it get hot, brush on some olive oil, and then place the skewers on the makeshift piastra. Cook 2 minutes per side. Serve with a salad- here I did a grilled Caesar. The shrimp come out the perfect love child between grilled shrimp and fried shrimp, with little clumps of charred bread and a zip of "pesto". It is the perfect dish for an Indian Summer's Eve....Wait, that didn't come out right.

Trip Report: There is No Arizona

2011-09-27T06:40:00.000-07:00

Last week I traveled to Scottsdale for a conference, and The Folk Singer came along to make certain that the pool was well tended to while I sat through meetings and presentations. It was the first trip out Southwest for both of us, and I would say that we were both surprised how comfortable 105 degree temperatures can be when there is zero humidity. After the conference ended each day we joined our new acquaintances at a few of Scottsdale's finest eateries, and overall I'd say that we were pleased with each of our meals and with the city overall. My only suggestion would be to open up the architectural color scheme outside of tan/brown/etc.

Also, what's up with all of the gluten free options?

The Mission came highly recommended on both the interweb and by the hotel staff. This place was hopping on a Wednesday night in September, a notoriously slow time for the region. Cadres of both young and old crowded around candle lit tables filled with margaritas of varying colors, and the crowd forced us to dine on the back patio, which was a welcome 75 degrees after the sun went down. We began with a bowl of guacamole prepared tableside and to our desired heat specifications. Main courses included tacos filled with crispy fried fingers of mahi mahi topped with crema tinged with chopped olives and a remarkably tender and flavorful chimichurri marinated hanger steak. The disappointment of the night was surprisingly the dish that had been the most touted. Pineapple glazed pork shoulder was awfully dry, like chewing a spare rib that had been left on the grill for 6 days such that it was reduced to dehydrated shreds. To make matters worse, the $32 "serving for two" (the only option) could not have been more than 7oz. of pork. But that let down notwithstanding, our entire table agreed that we would return if given the choice.

We explored other eateries Scottsdale, most of them in the Old Town area. We had lunch at The Herb Box, a split level establishment with a gourmet market on the bottom and full service restaurant on the top, that specialized in salads, wraps, dips, etc. Short rib tacos for me; brussel sprout and pancetta flatbread for TFS; both of us were pleased. The valets at the resort tipped us off to Frank & Lupe's, a locals' favorite haunt for no frills Mexican fare. This might have been our favorite meal of the trip. We sat on the outdoor patio sipping frothy and perfectly balanced margaritas and dined on poblano cream chicken enchiladas, tamales covered in New Mexican chiles, and sopapillas.

After the conference ended on Friday, we made the drive up to Sedona to check out the red rocks and taste a few wines. Turns out that we arrived 1 day too early for the Sedona Winefest, but we were still able to taste at a small shop in town and visit Page Spring Cellars on our way back to Scottsdale. Speaking in generalities, I would say that the Rhone varietals of Arizona fall short of their California neighbors, but that could be a personal matter of taste. We did, however, find an interesting bottle of sparkling with a pronounced vanilla aroma and flavor that should make for an interesting ice cream float in the near future.

Our dining schedule built up in anticipation until we made it to Pizzeria Bianco, which was our final meal before flying home. Proprietor Chris Bianco has earned a James Beard award and unending praise for his wood-fired Sicilian pies. After reading about the notoriously long lines during peak hours, we decided to arrive before the 11:00am opening time for lunch, and we waited under the canopy out front with about a half dozen other folks until the hostess raised the window shades.

The former machinist shop has lofty ceilings, brick walls, and is dominated by the large cistern oven which takes up nearly 1/4 of the restaurant. There are only 42 seats. The menu is equally minimalist - 3 salads and 6 pies with add ons available. The waiter suggested that we split a salad and pizza, but I told him that we came to play, so we ordered 2 pies: (1) the intentionally simplistic Margherita pizza, to which we added glistening slices of prosciutto draped over the top, and (2) the Rosa, a white pie featuring crushed pistachios that John T. Edge has called "the best pizza he ever ate."

This was very, very good pizza. The dough was so fresh that your taste buds left no doubt that you were eating first and foremost bread. The base of the pizza stayed horizontal under the toppings, but it was more pliable than crispy; the crust, on the other hand, had a hollow crunch like a log collapsing in a fireplace. The Margherita was probably the best specimen that I have ever experienced, and that assessment is notwithstanding the prosciutto, which TFS pilfered off of most of my slices. The parmigiano reggiano and crushed pistachios gave the Rosa a rich and nutty (maybe too much) taste, but the thinly sliced red onions helped bring a little sharpness and sweetness to the party.

But was this the best pizza I ever ate? I don't know. The pizza style was very similar to Ancora, except that Pizzeria Bianco does not have that charcoal taste that I think sometimes overpower the pies at Ancora. Domenica's pizza is not as "rustic" as Pizzeria Bianco (for lack of a better term), but that does not make Alon's pies any less good. I love Pizza Delicious too, but Mike & Greg's pies are in a different genre.

I guess that my overall assessment is that the young guns of New Orleans pizza are ready to play with the big boys.

Spanish Fly

2011-09-26T07:25:00.000-07:00

Lindsay and I will soon cram ourselves into an aluminum tube, hurtle through the atmosphere, and land in the financially unstable land of Spain. We are basing our operations out of Barcelona, where we have been led to believe the streets are lined with boquerones. I've combed through books, volumes of internet message boards, and the annotated collection Miguel de Cervantes. With 10 semesters of Spanish under my belt, I know how to find the bathroom and beer. So should be good on that front.

We generally travel to eat. Ohhh sure, I'll meander through a church or take a glance at a painting or two. Museums interest us, but I always find that I spend less time in each successive room. But easily we spend the most amount of time wandering through markets, saddling up to a bar to slurp oysters, or tearing off chunks of bread and hunks of cheese. Call us small minded by eating my way through a different culture is the best way to learn about people. Well, besides asking them.

This is where I turn to you, dear readers and denizens of this corner of the information superhighway. Please let me know where we should eat, drink, and eat and drink. Thanks and Peter comes back tomorrow. If your suggestion is a good one, I'll bring you back a limited edition T Shirt that says, "I read Blackened Out and all I got was this crappy T Shirt."

Bangkok Thai

2011-09-23T07:08:00.000-07:00

Friday afternoons are a tricky business in New Orleans. You either work through lunch so you can leave a touch early or maybe you just blow off the whole afternoon. Not me though, but maybe you do. Last Friday, Lindsay had skipped lunch for some reason or another and I had to run an errand after work. All of this added up to at 5:45 both of us deciding to just go grab a quick bite to eat before going home.

While driving around town, we went through the usual litany of "Where do you want to go?" before settling on Bangkok Thai. It had been a while since we ate there and I convinced Lindsay to go by reminding her they don't hold back with the heat. We should have kept driving.

The problem with bad meals is sometimes you see it from a mile away, but you still can't stop the collision course with bad meals. We walked into Bangkok right before 6 and were the only diners in the joint. Sign #1. There was no beer, the establishment having lost its liquor license. Sign #2. The menu was four pages too long. Sign #3. Yet we still placed our order and hoped we had been wrong.

First came finger size twigs of shrimp "marinated in house special spices", wrapped in thin sheets of crunch, and deep fried. These would have been a hit on an airplane. The other appetizer would test our patience at being polite. Crispy, fried tofu, which despite the name, was not. We only ordered it to see what Bloggle disowned the pig for. Obviously, it was not this dish. Flaccid, cubes of splintering tofu with less flavor than a couch cushion came with two dipping sauces: a sweet one and a peanut sauce. The peanut sauce was not half bad, comparatively. The sweet one would have made a hummingbird hyper.

Lindsay ordered a vegetable red curry which came out with the color and aroma of a wet golden retriever. I've had fresher vegetables at a McDonalds. My entree arrived a few moments later adorned with grey shingles of chicken topped with a gritty peanut sauce. Thank God I asked for it spicy. The broccoli ringing the plate was limp and soggy, yet still cold in the middle of the stalk. That broccoli was disproving Einstein's Theory of Relativity before my very eyes.

This is obviously a restaurant that is both trying to do too much but doing not nearly enough. I am sure they can cook, but they don't seem to want to do that. With its location and accessibility to the youth of Loyola and Tulane, now tuned into food more than a decade ago, Bangkok Thai should be cooking the food they cook for themselves. The authentic foods that one reads about in breathless expressions - spicy, fragrant, steaming, etc... Or at the very least competent versions of the Thai cuisine classics. They should not be frying pre-made snacks from a factory and pouring ready to eat sauces over flavorless proteins.

We quickly paid the check, which even though the meal was regrettable, was tame. On the way home, we developed a new rule: never again.

Bangkok Thai - Double Bogey
Don't worry, you don't need the address.

The Muffin Man

2011-09-22T06:40:00.000-07:00

Every Saturday morning, I have a standing meeting with Robert Banck, whom I nicknamed "The Muffin Man" before I ever learned what was written on his driver's license. The Muffin Man is like Red in Shawshank or the reincarnate of the Special Man from the old Frankie and Johnny's commercials. In short, he's the guy who's got the goods, from orange cranberry muffins (my favorite) to lemon squares, pecan squares, and granola.

Photo by renee b. photography.

The Muffin Man is actually only one part of an entire Muffin Family behind Windfield Farm Bakery. After a year of enjoying their muffins, scones, cookies, breads, and lemon squares, I finally gathered up the courage to speak to the Muffin Man and learn about the history and operations of Windfield Farm, which is the subject of my article in this month's food issue of OffBeat Magazine.

I was not surprised to learn that behind the Muffin Man was a Muffin Woman (isn't there always?), Robert's wife Suzie, who was the impetus of everything delicious coming from their farm in Franklinton. The story only gets better from there, in my opinion.

Here is a little anecdote about the Muffin Man that was too long to be included in the article but that I thought was worth sharing.

Last year on the Saturday before Halloween, The Muffin Man became a celebrity when his stand was used as a set for a Vera Bradley photoshoot, complete with obnoxious European photographer, stand-in 40ish blonde-haired muffin woman, flawless-looking 18 year old model, a dozen set attendees, and a ton of expensive set equipment.

It was almost noon by the time that I made it to the market that day, because The Folk Singer and I had run the Jazz Half Marathon that morning. We walked straight from the finish line on Tchoupitoulas to the market, hoping to find a sweet reward. Now, the photoshoot was taking place on one side of the booth, while it was business as usual for the Muffin Man on the other side. I was rather aloof and delirious at the time and tried to hand my money to the stand-in muffin woman to pay for my two brownies. (They were was out of muffins.)

Unbeknownst to me, I was now in the camera shot, and apparently someone did not think that I was Vera Bradley material. Some PA stepped in and said, "Excuse me, we're in the middle of a photo shoot over here, so if you could just scoot over to the side, I would appreciate it."

I turned to the Muffin Man and said, "I don't think she ran 13.1 miles just to get this brownie."

He laughed and said, "Don't feel too bad. They had to bring in her (pointing to stand-in muffin woman) because I wasn't pretty enough either."

He handed me the two brownies, which The Folk Singer and I devoured in about 3.5 seconds. And had my legs not been ready to crumble beneath me, I probably would have run another 13.1 miles for the chance at a third brownie.

Winesday

2011-09-21T07:11:00.000-07:00

Peter: OK, I'll admit that I knew exactly what this wine was just by looking at the red neck of the bottle. This is the best bottle of wine that I have tasted in two trips to the Napa Valley. Plain and simple - this is the easiest drinking cabernet on the market. Dark in color but smooth going down. This wine is made for food or for sitting in front of the TV on a Tuesday night watching Sons of Anarchy. Thinking the beef carpaccio and arugula salad from the Italian Barrel.

Rene: Deep, fruit filled noise but floral as well - violets. The taste is that of stewed dark fruits - blackberries, say. A soft wine in the mouth, though with velvety tannins. The words elegant and Stifler's mom comes to mind, which leads my mind to one of the dishes at Stella! Perhaps the duck five ways or the Kabayaki glazed beef tenderloin.

Joe the Wine Guy: 2006 Hewitt Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon Rutherford has intense layers of dark fruit, bittersweet chocolate, black licorice, clove spice, mineral and cedar. This is one of Napa's most voluptuous cabernets. The palate is packed with black cherry, plum and blackberry character. Then malted cocoa powder tannins enhances the wine's plush, opulent texture. The elegant, fruit-imbued finish lingers with espresso, toffee, and nutmeg. Pair this with rich, robust meals, like seared beef tenderloin with shitake mushroom sauce. You can find it at Speckled T's and Royal Palm, and it retails for around $80.

Talking with Talbot

2011-09-20T07:11:00.000-07:00

Jeffrey Talbot grew up in Venton, Louisiana, just outside of Lake Charles. From there, he worked in high end kitchens in Florida, Pennsylvania, Louisiana, Europe and California. But he left all that behind a few years ago to focus on a side job that became a passion: pizza. Quiet and monkish, Talbot is well-versed in the profanity laced patois of the kitchen. Let's put twentyish questions on the clock and get to know the pizza monk who tends the oven at Ancora. All photos courtesy of the new staff photog here, Renee "Peanut" Bienvenu.

Cooking is the only thing I can do. After high school I moved to Florida for a few months where my cousin was running a restaurant. Worked there for a few months and then went to Philadelphia to work with Tony Clark.

I worked for John Besh at Artesia, then he sent me to Europe for a year and three months. Came back and opened August. Always had in my mind that I wanted to work in three star Michelin type places. So left for California, where I worked at Cyrus. While I was at Cyrus, we started a bread program. That is when I began my starter, which is now six year's old. Was there for three months and became sous chef.

I kind of fell out of love with cooking. My mom had had a few strokes and so I moved back home and built a pizza oven in the backyard.

The pizza obsession is one of those things that my family didn't really understand. I first ate really great pizza when I was out in California and it was done perfectly. That pizza was an emotional experience. I wanted to take the craft I had learned in great restaurants and put that style of food into pizza. In a way you become more creative by limiting what it is you are doing.

I love making bread. We do three things here: cured meats, bread, and pizza. To me pizza is bread. But the actual bread we do here is pretty fun to make. Bread making is a very meditative process that requires focus to get the shape and texture we want. We don't use any commercial yeast. On some days there is high humidity, so you have to account for that. Other days, lower humidity. Sourdough is a whole different ballgame than using commercial yeast.

I don't know if I have a least favorite kitchen task. As a cook you take the good with the bad. What I hated doing five years ago, I love now. I even like cleaning, who the fuck likes to clean?

We cooks talk about memorable meals all the time. I have two. Cooks are always poor. I've been married for nine years now and my wife and I always make it a point to go and have one really nice meal a year. One year we went to The French Laundry and had the private dining room all to ourselves. I remember the maitre'd came in and said, "the other people who were to join you, have canceled. You have the room all night." That meal was great because we were treated so specially. Other meal was at Manresa. We ordered the entire tasting menu and the entire a la carte menu. We were there for five and a half hours and did twenty-one courses. It was fucking insane. Ohh, and we did all the wine pairings as well. At one point, my wife said, "Fuck, we are still on white wine. We have a long way to go." I think Manresa is serving the best food of any restaurant in America.

I like cooking for my family the most. As a cook we are constantly trying to justify our craft to our families. We arent ought saving the world, we aren't curing cancer, we just cook food for people to eat. So there is still that drive to make your family very proud of what you do. And cooking for them let's us do that. I'd love to cook for Douglas Keane. I have a tremendous amount of respect for him because I worked for him for so long.

I remember the first time I saw an ingredient you find on candy bars in a high end restaurant kitchen. Soy leciethen was the ingredient. I hate that high end restaurants are using that shit and charging people a fortune for that. You aren't a chef if you can't make great plates from food that grows in the dirt, swims in the ocean, or grazes in the fields plus a little salt and pepper. Technique is what great cooking is built on. I want a potato to taste like a fucking potato. Cryovacs and immersion circulators in my mind are no different than microwaves.

Fucking texting. I hate people texting in my kitchen. When you show up to work, work. Text when you get home.

What we do here is so simple. We don't get any produce delivered. We go to the market and what we find there is what we cook with. So you won't see anymore Creoles soon and we aren't going to serve Cauliflower in summer. That forces us to be creative.

Within three months, we had moved to New Orleans, had a baby, and opened a restaurant. We put up the lights, finished the floor, built this space. So there is an emotional attachment to this restaurant fueled by those hardships. After we opened, we discovered people have a preconceived notion of what pizza is supposed to be. We fight that everyday.

I put my hands on every single pizza that a customer eats. If they don't like it, it means they don't like what I did. And that is humbling.

Wood, sea salt, and Double O flour are my essential kitchen tools. Most of what we do, that is all we need to do it. All of our breads are just flour, sea salt, and water. Those are the most important ingredients.

After a long day, I like to eat cheese and bread and drink beer. I really love St. James which is one of my favorite places to go. Even coming from Bay Area, where there is a cheese shop on nearly every corner, St. James stands out. It is the best cheese shop I've ever been in. I love everything about it, especially the smell.

The biggest influence in my career was traveling in Europe. Not neccessarily working in the kitchens, because all high end kitchens are pretty much the same. But being able to drive an hour and eat at a place like Auberge du Lac which has had 3 Michelin stars for like 50 years.

From My Grandmother's Kitchen. Marco Pierre White's White Heat is very motivational, but I have never cooked anything out of it. I just love the way he talks about food in that book. Flavors of Tuscanny. I read that book cover to cover. No chefs buy cookbooks for the recipes. You buy it to put you in a frame of mind. So when you are wanting to "Be Italian" or "Be Rustic" you read a book that takes you there and shows you the thought process of how to prepare food in that manner.

Probably the cooking of Northern Italy is my favorite Italian cuisine. The further north you go in Italy, the more it falls in line with the cuisines that surround it. As you go south, even into Tuscanny, you start finding poor man's food where they aren't relying on eggs and butter as much.

No shit, I ended up in New Orleans because of a Mano. We went there like five times before even partnered with Adolfo. I just love what they do there. Then of course, we are eagerly awaiting the reopening of Casamentos. And I love Hansen's, before we opened I went there everyday. My favorite flavor is The Thai Trifecta - ginger, limeade and cream of coconut.

I'd start with the cured meat plate definitely, the affetati misti. My favorite pizza here is the marinara. Two years go I loved the margerita, but now I see less as more. When you start putting too much stuff on pizza, it suffers. Our marinara is just dough, wild oregano, shaved garlic and the best possible tomatoes we can find. That is it. For dessert, I'd have the daily sweetbread. Again, simplicity it is just sourdough with dried fruits, nuts, marscapone cheese, and honey.

Never liquor with pizza. Beer or wine. Beer with some things, wine with others. But as I get older, I find myself drinking more beer.

I used to work on a fishing boat so I would be bringing fishing shit with me to a deserted island. If I wasn't doing pizza, I'd be cooking fish. I'd bring some seeds so I could grow stuff I needed to cook. Something to take salt out of the water which would also leave me with a huge supply of sea salt. Pepper. And I'd bring my knives. Be pretty set with all of that. Ohh, can I add something unfucking practical like ice cream just because?

Jambalaya

2011-09-19T06:40:00.000-07:00

Bad Bart's Black Jambalaya

Jambalaya is one of those iconic local dishes that is at the top of every tourist's list of foods to try when visiting New Orleans. After watching Bourdain's journey to Acadiana a few weeks ago, even I have been overcome with a craving for those one pot dishes that our neighbors to the west do oh so well. But while I have little difficulty recommending where to find a good roast beef po-boy, cub of gumbo, or a dozen oysters on the half shell, I'll be damned if I don't draw a blank nearly every time someone asks me where they can get a worthwhile plate of jambalaya in New Orleans.

When confronted with such an inquiry from an out of town guest, many people would probably say, "You know, jambalaya is one of the dishes that we always make at home, so I never to think to look for it, much less order it, at a restaurant. Plus jambalaya is a cajun dish, and New Orleans is all about creole." While I accept that most locals prefer their jambalaya homemade and that the dish is not indigenous to Southeast Louisiana, I refuse to believe that there is not a respectable restaurant version to be found in the city.

One of the best that I have tasted in recent times is Bad Bart's Black Jambalaya from Crescent Pie & Sausage Co. This jambalaya gets its brown color not from tomato but from the aromatic spices and black eyes peas, whose inclusion I had never before seen. This is not a sticky jambalaya (which I also enjoy); the short grain rice retains their individuality. There is a decent - but not disproportionately large - amount of chicken, pork and sausage, all thin slices as opposed to massive hunks. The black eyed peas sometimes cannot be seen, but their texture is noticeable in the rice in that the starch from the beans seems to envelope each grain of rice, adding meatiness without heft. The flavor is neither overpoweringly spicy nor do you immediately reach for a bottle of Crystal after the first bite.

I happen to have sampled some more of Bad Bart's Black yesterday before the game at the Crescent Pie and NOLA Brewing tailgate at the corner of Girod and Loyola. This bowl (pictured above) was not as dark in color and the flavors not as bold as usual, but it was still delicious.

So while we are on the subject, where else can one find a great bowl of jambalaya? K-Paul's is an obvious choice, but I can't say that I have had tried Chef Paul's version in more than 10 years. Is the Jambalaya Supreme at Coop's Place worth waiting in line for? (Ian McNulty seemed to think so, back in 2003.) Does the jambalaya meat pie at Cochon count?

Let us know about your favorite jambalaya in today's comments.

Breakfast Goes Green

2011-09-16T06:40:00.000-07:00

Eco Cafe prides itself as the greenest restaurant in the city, staying loyal to their ecological principles from the reclaimed products used in the renovation of the building to the cage-free eggs that are whipped into omelettes. "Hormone-free," "grass fed," and "organic" are all enticing characterizations in print, but the proof is on the plate.

The menu is reminiscent of the original Surrey's with it's extensive list of freshly squeezed juices and American breakfast classics mixed in with Latin flair. The juicer makes good use of ginger, herbs and other aromatics to create refreshing concoctions that are surely to perk up your morning without a caffeine jolt.

The food reads better than it actually tastes, but I would still recommend the restaurant for those looking for a wholesome way to start their Sunday morning. Geaux Grits (above) topped with fried eggs, crumbled bacon, and cheddar cheese, is one of those satisfying dishes which after finishing you think to yourself, "I could have made this at home, but I don't mind paying $8." Plantains make multiple appearances on the menu as grilled inch-thick rounds topped with sour cream. While I appreciate the kitchen's concern for my cholesterol, I much prefer a crunchy fried exterior to contrast with the soft flesh.

The house signature Chicken & Waffle Sandwich ($12) is a tower of fried chicken breast tenders between thick Belgian waffles. While the waffles were dry and lacked a desired crispness, the fried chicken was crisp on the outside, moist on the inside, and well seasoned. Solution: douse liberally with maple syrup. Huevos Rancheros ($9) is a nice choice but could use a little more punching up in terms of seasoning. The chili con carne omelet may be the best dish on the menu.

What the food may lack in terms of execution, the setting makes up for in terms of ambience. Large windows open up the wood floored dining room with plenty of natural light. Tall ceilings and well-spaced tables give both early and late morning risers plenty of room to stretch out and relax, which is the opposite case for most affordable restaurants who specialize in breakfast. And with the weather seeming to cool off with every turn of the daily calendar, the three tables outside have become highly coveted.

Eco Cafe (Breakfast/Brunch) - Par
3903 Canal St.
(504) 482-1225
Mon, Wed-Fri: 7:30am-2:30pm
Sat-Sun: 8:00am - 2:45pm
Closed Tuesday Starting 10/4/11