Tuesday, June 8, 2010
1097 Restaurants Open Around Town
Fishermen Get Help In A Train Station
They're thinking about our oil spill plight up in Washington D.C. I can't speak for the politicians up there, but I do know that the restaurateurs have us in mind. A group of them have come together to give a two-day fundraiser in Patron Tequila's private railroad car, parked in the grandiose surroundings of Washington Union Station. That's where you'd get off if you were traveling to the nation's capital by way of the Amtrak Crescent, the crack daily train from New Orleans.
The D.C. chefs are joining with some New Orleans culinarians to present two events--one today, one tomorrow. The proceeds go to the St. Bernard Project, which is trying to raise $75,000 to rebuild the homes of several fishermen affected by the spill, and provide mental health services for fishermen in the parish.
Today's party on Track 31 is a cocktail reception with food by New Orleans chefs Brian Landry (of Galatoire’s), Greg Reggio (Zea) and D.C. chefs Ann Cashion (Johnny’s Half Shell) Jeff Tunks (DC Coast, Acadiana), David Guas (DamGoodSweet) and others. Tickets are $50 for this.
Tomorrow night, twenty-five people paying $350 each will be treated to a five-course dinner by the Washington chefs, all aboard the Patron Epicurian Express car. The private car will then go to Chicago, Philadelphia, New Orleans and Los Angeles to do the same sort of thing. Gosh! I'd love to be aboard that train. To reserve a place on The Patrón Tequila Epicurean Express, email rsvp@stbernardproject.org.
Creole Tomato Menu, All June At Muriel's
The Creole Tomato Festival is this weekend at the French Market. Since it's only a block away, Muriel's on Jackson Square thought it would make sense to assemble a special menu highlighting the uniquely local, much-loved fruit-vegetable. Now that I think of it, I can't remember that any other restaurant ever did this--except perhaps Muriel's itself, last year. Chef Gus Martin started this menu last Wednesday this week. It will run--with a few changes to keep it fresh--throughout June. The price for the four courses is $42 (plus tax and tip, of course). They also have the entire a la carte menu available.
Creole Tomato and Apple Smoked Bacon Soup
With leek confit, crème fraîche and Black Russian bread croutons
Garlic Crusted Frog Legs
Flash fried golden, served with baby arugula, shaved red onion
and feta cheese; finished with a smoked tomato butter sauce
Wood Grilled Yellowfin Tuna
Served with fennel quinoa, Creole tomato and caper ragout;
finished with crisp prosciutto and oyster mushroom
Creole Tomato and Mint Sorbet
Served with a lemon tuille cookie
Muriel's. French Quarter: 801 Chartres. 504-568-1885.
Sunday, May 30. The Graduation Party. The very last gasp (and I am gasping) of Mary Leigh's high school adventure transpires today, as we hold a party in her honor at the Cool Water Ranch, for family and close friends. Which adds up to about thirty people, all arriving around noon. Since neither of our children celebrate their birthdays at home anymore, this is our first big party since Thanksgiving.
For all my alleged knowledge and sophistication in the food arena, I know now that I have been cut out of the loop completely when we plan an event like this. Mary Ann asked me this question yesterday: "What are you doing for the party? I thought you could grill some sausages, make a blue cheese dip, and bake strawberry shortcakes." I had a few ideas. What about the ham that everybody expects when they come over here? Guacamole? Cheesecake? A whole tenderloin of beef? You know, my specialties? No, no, no and no, she said. Why don't you do this, this, this and this instead? I didn't say. I just became a line cook and took orders. The spread was one hundred percent Mary Ann's menu.
I did have a little input yesterday when we went to Rouse's and bought the makings of an antipasto platter. It was interesting that every single item I wanted required the opening of a new haunch of deli meat. I had to explain to the very nice guy across the counter what the stuff was, and why it needed to be sliced paper-thin. We left with capicola, sopressata, and the cheaper of the two prosciuttos (MA insisted on that last one, a decision we would regret later).
My first task was to fire up the Big Green Egg to smoke an allegedly half-cooked pork shoulder MA said she found when defrosting the old freezer a couple of weeks ago. When she handed it to me, I found it not only fully cooked but fully sliced--and badly, at that, into slices too thick to eat and too thin to slice thinner.
I went outside to shut down the Egg (you can do that, by closing all the vents), and turned my attention making mini-hamburgers. MA went across the lake yesterday specifically buy the perfect, cute little buns for these. I rolled about sixty balls of ground round with various seasonings into thick but narrow patties, and stacked them up on sheets of waxed paper. "Those little burgers are the perfect size!" praised my wife. I made a goofy grin and drooled a little to show my pride in having done something without screwing up.
Then I baked the shortbreads, which I can do in my sleep. They're just like our buttermilk biscuits, except with half-and-half instead of buttermilk and two tablespoons of sugar per cup of flour.
Mary Ann, meanwhile, made up a beautiful platter of antipasto with the capicola and other deli meats, plus poached and marinated asparagus, cheeses, olives, grilled squash, zucchini, eggplant and red peppers (nobody ever touches the latter four, but she makes them for every party because she likes the way they look). She baked a few dozen mini-quiches and a vat of spinach-artichoke dip, to make everybody feel as if they were at Houston's.
Now she was working on steaming and stuffing a half-dozen artichokes. This project would frustrate her not just today but for another week. She couldn't get them to come out right. I love artichokes and that Italian-style bread crumb stuffing. I hate stuffed artichokes. But this is of no importance.
Around eleven, the guest of honor awakened. She was just in time to listen to MA ride me about the blue cheese dip she wanted to serve with the homemade potato chips that she fried last night and nearly blackened in the oven a few minutes ago. "I want a dip, not a dressing!" she kept warning me. "Thick! Make sure it's thick!"
"Yeah, Dad, did you get that?" said Mary Leigh after hearing this for the third time. Not for nothing did her classmates name her Most Sarcastic Class Mouth. "Dad, are you sure it's a dip, not a dressing?" she said, a few more times, while MA frowned and shook her head at the forces arrayed in opposition to her Great Plan.
My revenge: the Marys loved the blue cheese dip. Secret: sour cream.
At around eleven-thirty, I went back out to re-light the Egg. But nothing happened after the electric starter ran for five minutes. I pulled it out and saw that the coil had broken completely. I have no other way to light a charcoal fire quickly. I had to retreat to the indoor grill.
That proved a lucky break. At around noon--just as the guests began to arrive--an enormous early-summer cloudburst drenched everything for an hour. I wouldn't have been able to cook anything outdoors, anyway.
The andouille went under the broiler in a pan. It threw off an unbelievable amount of fat. But it was spicy, chunky, and delicious with a dip of Creole mustard. This was Rouse's house-packed andouille, and I agree with MA that it's a superb product.
The boudin, also in the broiler, was the unaccountably excellent Manda vacuum-packed stuff. It's hard to believe how good and consistent this is. Even my Cajun friend Chuck Billeaud-- whose family's grocery store in Lafayette still makes boudin--thought it was good. Chuck showed up to try it without his family of girls, who were all in Destin, also celebrating a high-school graduation.
On the flattop grill before me were about two dozen mini-burgers and a half-dozen each of spicy Italian sausages and fresh bratwurst. Bratwurst? Why did she buy bratwurst? "Is that bratwurst?" she said. "I bought them because they were two for one at the store."
So there I was, metal spatula in hand, published cookbook author, flipping burgers and sausages, trying to keep the rendered fat channeled to the back. Next to me was my ten-year-old audience, Gabe. He's the little brother of two of Jude's longtime Scout buddies. Gabe--as befits kids his age--never runs out of questions and demands. He listens to my radio show and knows what questions to ask, too. "Did you make all that yourself?" he said, pointing at my crammed short-order grill. He seemed disappointed when I said that the burgers were from scratch, but the sausages were right out of a package. I shut him up briefly with one of our cute mini-burgers.
Another of the tasks assigned to me by default is cleaning up after myself and all the other cooks. Managing the constant flow of used utensils, piled-up counters, and filled sinks is a full-time job. I kept up with it all morning long, but with all this stuff on the grill I was starting to fall behind. And people wanted wine. MA knows nor cares nothing about wine. "How does that thing that opens the wine bottle work?" Gabe asked. "Can I do it?"
Someone asked for a Coke. A two-liter had fallen from somewhere a few days ago, and it was still where it had fallen. Its dust-covered label bore a drawing of Santa Claus. I twisted the cap--no hiss. Flat. "No wonder!" said Gabe. "I know how to read the code, and this Coke is from 2005!"
The rain continued to pound. New arrivals were driving across the lawn. I crossed my fingers they wouldn't get stuck. Clumps of people formed throughout the living room. The kitchen, of course, was full. The kitchen is the new living room--and I'm sure I'm not the first to note this.
Mary Ann used too much of the whipping cream, and I didn't have quite enough for all the strawberry shortcakes. After using it all up (including two shortcakes with just whipped cream, no berries for Gabe), I literally threw in the towel, grabbed a glass of wine and a mini-burger, and sat down in the living room. I quit.
I looked around. The only missing element was a few young men in their late teens and early twenties. They would have found the scene very pleasant. The number of stunning young women in the room was. . .well, I don't remember ever having been in such an environment when I was that age. If I had, on the other hand, I probably would have blown it and had all the lovelies mad at me in a few minutes.
The first person to leave the party was Jude. He had a plane to catch back to Hollywood, and a movie under his direct management that he said was spinning out of control in his absence. Mary Ann was his chauffeur.
The party went on and the sun came out. I watched and crossed my fingers as the early departees crossed the soft, sodden lawn to get around cars blocking them. Lingering long enough that they were still there when Mary Ann returned from the airport were, as always, Tim and Desiree Connell. Their daughter Hillary is also a high-school just-graduate, and Mary Leigh's closest cousin. We have a lot else in common with them. Desiree is the only person who ever joins me for single-malt Scotch on the rocks. Which I relished just then. Cheers!
Tim works for the Army Corps of Engineers, and had a few informed opinions on how BP has performed badly. "Engineers are just like that," he said. "They want to do everything the most complicated way. They had a big stupid contraption that could have just crimped that pipe like a hose to keep so much oil from coming out. But that wouldn't have looked impressive, so they went for one complex fix after another that didn't get the job done."
The oil spill was Topic A all afternoon, of course, since this morning BP announced that its latest effort--the "top kill," which will now be an object of fun for a long time--had failed.
After they left, Mary Ann understood I had to get to work and that my back was hurting, and I was relieved of the clean-up job. She doesn't like me doing that anyway. She says my definition of edible leftovers sends too much good food into the garbage. I say it would help her weight-loss program to have much less food she feels required to eat. But her leftover-salvation imperative clearly is the stronger force. She kept eating those stuffed artichokes--even while complaining what a failure they were--for another week.
Mexican.
Uptown: 5932 Magazine St. 504-897-3974. Map.
Harahan: 1827 Hickory Ave., 504-738-6722. Map.
Metairie: 3535 Severn, 504-885-5088. Map.
Lunch and dinner seven days.
Very Casual
AE MC V
Website
WHY IT'S NOTEWORTHY
Like all ethnic restaurants, Taqueria Corona has drifted in the direction of American tastes over the two decades it's been around. But its food remains much more like that of the interior of Mexico than in most other Mexican restaurants. It was the first true taqueria here, with a menu and cooking style that was very exciting back then. Now other taquerias riddle the market, but the TC--particularly the Magazine Street original--still stands out.
WHY IT'S GOOD
Unless you're from Oaxaca or San Luis Potosi, these are not the tacos you grew up with. Instead of crunchy corn tortillas filled with salad and meats from a steam table, the tacos here start with flour tortillas and a hot grill covered with chunks of meat, searing away while green onions get semi-charred,and beans are brought to bubbling. Unusual meats like beef tongue and fish add further variety and interest to the menu.
BACKSTORY
Long before the post-Katrina swell of taquerias around town, El Salvador native Roberto Mendez opened up a minimal joint on Magazine Street. Even with parking scarce around there, the food was so good and so cheap that it was an immediate hit. The other locations (one in Metairie, one in Harahan) have never been quite as good as the Magazine Street original.
DINING ROOM
The old place has been fixed up a few times over the years, but it's still a spartan environment, dim and long, with the grill dominating the attention of diners. And making the place smell good. The suburban locations are made intentionally rustic, but can't escape entirely from their strip-mall locations.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
Cebollitas (grilled green onions).
Guacamole
Pico de gallo and chips
Queso fundido (melted cheese with beef or chorizo)
Black bean chili dip
Black bean soup
Gazpacho
Cheese quesadilla (options: chicken or shrimp)
Tacocado salad
Grilled tacos with pico de gallo and beans, plus choice of ribeye steak, chicken, pork, beef tongue, chorizo, shrimp, or fish
California burritos (with beans, rice, guacamole, cheese and cilantro, with a choice of meats or seafood)
Combination platters (taco, burrito, flauta, rice and beans)
Carne asada (grilled beef ribeye)
Pollo asado (grilled chicken breast)
Enchilada riviera (soft corn tortilla with a choice of meats or seafood)
Mexican pizza
Flauta dulce (banana and cheesecake in a fried tortilla)
Flan
Arroz con leche (rice pudding)
FOR BEST RESULTS
Don't wear clothes you'd like to keep free of cooking aromas. Go early in you don't want to wait. The place seems to get busier as it gets later. Don't even think of getting in even a minute after closing time at either lunch or dinner.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
The servers could throw the food down with a little less gusto.
FACTORS OTHER THAN FOOD
Up to three points, positive or negative, for these characteristics. Absence of points denotes average performance in the matter.
- Dining Environment -1
- Consistency +1
- Service -1
- Value +2
- Attitude
- Wine and Bar
- Hipness +1
- Local Color +1
SPECIAL ATTRIBUTES
- Open Sunday lunch and dinner
- Open Monday lunch and dinner
- Quick, good meal
- Easy, nearby parking (Metairie and Harahan only)
- No reservations
Pepper-Crusted Pork Loin
With Sweet Heat Sauce
Sweet heat is a wonderful flavor effect. The sweetness in the sauce balances of an otherwise over-the-top degree of pepper heat in the dish, thereby resulting in a greatly heightened flavor. The Chinese have known about this for years; we're just learning it.
You can use either pork tenderloin or pork rib loin for this dish. The latter is better if you're using the outdoor grill.
I will always associate this dish with Hurricane Katrina. I made it up the weekend before the storm hit. Then, while my family and I were evacuated to the home of our niece Jennifer Donner in Atlanta, I cooked it again.
- 1 pork loin, 10-12 inches long, trimmed of fat and silverskin
- 1/4 cup soy sauce
- 1/4 cup coarsely ground black pepper
- Salt
Sauce:
- 1/4 cup fig preserves
- 1/4 cup orange marmalade (or substitute other kinds of jellies or preserves for this and the above)
- 1/2 cup apple juice
- 2 Tbs. steak sauce
- 1 Tbs. Tabasco soy sauce
- 1/4 tsp. salt
1. If cooking outside, build a fire with some wood chips or other smoking fuel in the pit. If cooking indoors, preheat the broiler and pan with the pan six inches from the heat.
2. If using the rib loin, cut it from end to end into two pieces of the same size. Pour the soy sauce over the loins and coat them all over. Sprinkle on a bit of salt and pepper. The pepper should create a distinct crust.
3. Place the loins right over the fire in the grill and cook, turning every few minutes, until cooked to an internal temperature of 160 degrees. This may leave a blush of pink in the center, but that is well past the safety point for pork.
If using the oven, place the loins under the broiler and broil, turning once, for 10 minutes, until the exterior is well browned. Lower the heat to 275 and continue to cook until the interior temperature reaches 160 degrees on a meat thermometer.
4. Slice the pork loins about a half-inch thick. If using tenderloin, slice it on the bias.
5. Combine all the sauce ingredients in a saucepan and heat through. Reduce the sauce a little if you think it's too thin.
Serves eight to ten.
