Archived Article By Tom Fitzmorris Originally published December 13, 2005 Click here for the current edition Emeril's Back Last Thursday, Emeril's reopened. The event got the kind of press coverage you might expect for the superstar chef. He was interviewed widely on radio and TV, and camera crews were in and out throughout the evening. (I didn't see anything in the Times-Picayune, which has been picking mercilessly at Emeril for no apparent reason.) They invited us to be there for dinner on the reopening night, and since we were there the first time he opened fifteen years ago, I thought it would be right to do it again. When Mary Leigh heard this plan, her eyes widened. "Can I go, too?" she asked. While we were in evacuation, she saw more cable TV than ever before in her life (the cable doesn't make it as far out as the Cool Water Ranch). She saw Emeril's Food Network shows. And liked them. The three of us sat in a spot from which we could see the entire restaurant, from the dangerously full bar to the food counter. It was not what I would call a celebrity night--the other diners were, for the most part, Emeril's regular customers--but we knew enough people that we gave and received a couple dozen Katrina Hugs. The first of those for me was from the chef himself. I'd not seen him for quite a long time, but it was just like my favorite recollection of him, from the days when he used to orchestrate amazing dinners for Dick Brennan, Marcelle Bienvenu, and me back in the 1980s. Same engaging, immediately likable personality, nothing like that guy you see on the tube. The fact that he had some amuses-bouche for us (a smoky play on oysters Rockefeller, and melting pork rillettes) didn't hurt, either. David McCelvey, who is the head of all of Emeril's chefs, was beaming. He wanted us to take a walk into the kitchen to meet the new chef de cuisine, Chris Lynch. Also back there was Shane Pritchett, the chef from Delmonico, who's working here while waiting for his branch of the Emeril network to reopen. Indeed, the kitchen was full of personnel--the first such situation I've seen since the storm. "We have a lot of people who came in from some of the other restaurants to help us," said McCelvey. "We have almost a full staff. That also looked to be true in the dining room. The bartenders were probably in the weeds all night, because of the sheer number of supplicants there. But the dining room seemed to be running well. Our table was certainly well served, if that means anything. The restaurant itself looked unchanged. We found out that it had been looted, but that nothing much had been taken. It was just a matter of vandalism. The wine cellar, across the street in a generator-served building with insulation so thick that the temperature never went above 67 degrees, was able to supply the astounding wine list with which Emeril's has distinguished itself. We started with smoked wild mushrooms with pasta and tasso and some of the unique barbecue shrimp (they peel them, but there's what amounts to shrimp-demi-glace in the  sauce to lend more flavor). Mary Ann's entree was a crusty, sweet-heat salmon that we both thought delicious. I had the double-cut pork chop, slathered with a green chile mole and striped with a chilpotle pepper sauce. They overcooked it a shade, but the flavor was beyond reproach. Mary Leigh had her favorite dish: a filet mignon with mashed potatoes. A lot of food for a thirteen-year-old, burt she demolished it. Al of this went down good with a 1998 Auguste Clape Cornas, a big, fruity, spicy Rhone. It was one of four vintages of this wine on the list. On the way out, we ran into wine merchant Phil Ordogne, one of Emeril's major fans, and not just because he sells him a great deal of wine. He was at the bar, one of many who wanted to be present for this renaissance, whether dinner could be had or not. Something about the whole scene spoke volumes about our city's ability to keep on going. © 2005 Tom Fitzmorris. All rights reserved. news@nomenu.com