From The New Orleans Menu Daily By Tom Fitzmorris Originally published November 30, 2006 Cochon 3$ Warehouse District: 930 Tchoupitoulas Reservations: 588-2123 Continuous lunch and dinner Mon.-Fri. Dinner only Sat. AE, DC, DS, MC, V. www.cochonrestaurant.com The Cajun country has a culinary resource of which avid New Orleans eaters are (or ought to be) very jealous. Throughout Acadiana, in big towns and small, are butcher shops that specialize in a wide array of Cajun meat specialties called boucherie. These include smoked meats (tasso being the most outstanding example). A wide range of sausages, fresh and smoked. Boudin and other stuffed-casing dishes, some of which get very exotic (a stuffed pig's stomach called a "ponce" comes to mind). All of this stuff is prepared on the premises by real butchers--a breed of grocer that's becoming very rare in the markets of New Orleans. And it's as delicious as it is distinctive. What would a trip to Cajun country be without at least a link of boudin grabbed somewhere along the road? Donald Link, the chef and co-proprietor of the excellent Herbsaint restaurant on St. Charles Avenue, is fascinated by all this. He grew up on the western extreme of Cajun country, around Lake Charles. He's long had it in the back of his mind to explore Cajun boucherie. But Herbsaint, with its somewhat sophisticated and French menu, wasn't the place to do it. So he and another chef, Stephen Stryjewski, partnered to open a restaurant specializing in that fascinating micro-cuisine. Along with other dishes from the palette of Southern country cooking--something else we don't get much of here in New Orleans, oddly enough. It's called Cochon, the first third of "cochon de lait," the Cajun-style roast piglet popular enough in these parts that it turns up at church fairs, poor boy shops, and a few upscale restaurants. Pig is used comprehensively on the menu at Cochon, right down to its logo. It suggests that it's a barbecue shop, but while they smoke a few things, you won't see barbecue sauce or potato salad or other such BBQ trappings. Or that look. Cochon is in a former factory at the nexus of Tchoupitoulas, Annunciation, and Andrew Higgins, the heart of the Warehouse District. They re-used the factory's sign (for the life of me, I can't remember what it used to say, but the shape is familiar), left the floor bare concrete, and kept the battered brick wall along the sidewalk. Oddly, the rest of the design has a Scandinavian look, with varnished, horizontal wooden boards with gaps between them along the back walls. Tall ceilings, interesting lighting, an open kitchen with a food bar, and even a nice treatment of the sidewalk at the entrance complete a handsome, if casual environment. The menu is unlike anything you've encountered in any other New Orleans restaurant. A few items are familiar, but the ensemble is innovative. What I've had of it was generally very good. I started the first dinner with five roasted oysters on the shells, which had a minimal, buttery sauce. (In other words, only a little like Drago's.) Then the hogshead cheese with Creole mustard (good, but not spicy enough for me) and pork rilletes. A rilletes is a rough pate, with the meat remaining in discrete shreds, held together by natural moisture. I keep trying the stuff, but no matter who does it and with what meat, it always seems like a near-tasteless wad of pre-chewed food to me. Much better was the "link" sausage (get it?), a coarse, thick-skinned, satisfying length with a great rustic flavor, served with grits and peppers. I also liked the fried boudin balls, crusty, spicy, dark brown. They didn't bear what I think of as the classic boudin flavor, but they were good anyway. And fried chicken livers with pepper jelly. That's something the Praline Connection made famous locally, and it's such a good combination that it's hard to resist ordering it. Cochon is helping with the sudden revival of calas, the ancient Creole rice cakes that had just about disappeared from the scene a few decades ago. They make calas as a patty instead of a ball, and savory with green onions and pepper, sent out with a sort of slaw of apples and cabbage. The namesake entree at Cochin is slow-roasted pulled pork, the shreds dusted with flour and seasonings and formed into the shape of an overgrown crabcake, then pan-grilled. That's surrounded by cabbage and cracklings. Rustic indeed. But not something I think I'd recommend to you. Better was a special I had one night. A thick pork chop, well seasoned and grilled till just a blush of pink remained inside, came out atop a pile of crowder peas. Those are my favorite beans, but we see them rarely--it's a country thing. Excellent. Meat dominates the menu, but fish can be found. They have an oven-roasted fish done "fisherman's style," says the menu. This is along the lines of the "fish on the half shell" that a few restaurants offer, with the fillet still nestled inside the skin and scales. I think this is a great way to cook a fish, and it certainly works right into the theme here. Early reports I heard from listeners and readers about Cochon frequently mentioned that the portions seemed small. I can't say I saw a problem with that, although when you're serving the likes of crowder peas and greens, one does expect a big pile of them. They gave me enough to satisfy, but not to cause pain. I guess that's the dichotomy of serving rustic food made with classy ingredients by a name chef in a nice place. Entrees are in the high teens. They make good desserts. The pineapple upside down cake, the buttermilk and lemon pie, and homemade ice creams are all good. The service staff is extraordinarily accommodating and knowledgeable. The wine and drink list is interesting, although the promise of good Sazarac or mint juleps is only an illusion. Cochon was something of a phenom when it first opened a few months ago, and the place received a good deal of national and local press. Things have cooled off a bit since, paradoxically, now that the restaurant has found its groove. You can usually get in without a reservation, even. Click here to return to today's edition. Click here for an index of all restaurant reviews. © 2006 Tom Fitzmorris. All rights reserved. news@nomenu.com.