Wednesday, June 9, 2010
1097 Restaurants Open Around Town
Three Appetizers And A Wine, $28
The summer promotion at Ralph's on the Park is one of the best around, and it just began. You get three appetizers and a glass of wine for $28. The selection is remarkable. Here's the list (the items marked with an * incur a $4 upcharge):
Turtle soup
Vinegar fries with béarnaise
Local Creole tomato tart with baby arugula
*Worcestershire & citrus glazed lamb spare ribs
Cauliflower soup with mini blue crab cake
Pan fried serrano-wrapped chicken livers with cream cheese grits
*Tuna two ways (tartare and cold-smoked with avocado)
City Park salad
Oysters Rockefeller reprise
*Tempura Maine lobster tail with a butter-poached claw
*House cured blueberry Atlantic salmon
Asparagus salad, roasted pecans, feta
Wild mushroom ravioli
Cajun scotch egg
Pork belly, fried green tomato, poblano-red onion slaw, Creole mustard butter
*Crabmeat ravigote napoleon
The wine choice is a little more restricted, but more than decent: Sauvignon Blanc Ladoucette “Les Deux Tours” 2007, and Pinot Noir Macmurray Ranch 2007. This deal is available all night, every night, through August 31.
Ralph's On The Park. Mid-City: 900 City Park Ave. 504-488-1000. Contemporary Creole.
Monday, May 31. Memorial Day, and everything's on low power. I will need every minute of the day (and, as it will turn out, the week) to catch up on what went undone during last week's Graduation Gala.
This is one of the holidays on which I have always done a radio show, even though I know it will be a sleepy time. One day I may have to agree with Mary Ann that I am compulsive on this score. But if I'm not there, the management will fill in with ESPN programming, which will cause a small number of people to believe that I am no longer on the air and never tune in again. It's all I can do to get people over to 1350 to begin with, and I can't lose a soul. (A listener's or my own.)
Not helping the tenor of the day was Mary Ann's insistence that we couldn't so much as think of going out to eat with all the leftovers from yesterday's big party stuffing both refrigerators. I didn't even bother to ask. I just shut up and formed two mini-burgers into one normal-burger, grilled it, and ate it. Then back to work, as torrents of rain fell.
Tuesday, June 1. Underwater Photography. Marigny Brasserie With An Old Friend. The live video of the gushing oil well in the Gulf has captivated me. British Petroleum has moved on to its next strategy for stopping the flow, since the "top kill" gambit failed over the weekend. Now the underwater camera is going around the well, checking it out. And now a robotic arm is grabbing this and that. And now what looks like a deli-slicer blade is sawing through pipes. It's a diamond-tipped circular saw, I learned. It has no safety guard, because how can a robot cut off its finger? (I did notice that one of the robot's fingers was bent out of line, though.)
What they're trying to do is cut off the pipe from which most of the oil is spurting at the wellhead. This is risky, because it may greatly increase the amount of oil coming up. But then they will put a cap over the wellhead, hoping that the oil can be sucked up from there into a ship, instead of floating to the surface and fouling the coastline and waters.
Very bad news on that front. Barataria Bay--one of the most productive estuaries for Louisiana seafood and perhaps the best of all our oyster-bedding areas--is now taking in a flow of oil. The pictures of the oil-coated birds and dead reptiles inspire that mixture of pathos and anger that wrenches the gut, making you want to turn away just as you look for more of the disgusting scene.
Meanwhile, however, there is no shortage of local seafood in the restaurants. Even oysters are still around, in enough quantity that this weekend's New Orleans Oyster Festival on the riverfront will go ahead with enthusiasm. I am sticking with my prediction that by Thanksgiving we will still be cleaning up, but will wonder why we thought the end was so near.
A lot of people are that depressed. One of them is my sister Lynn. At the Graduation Gala, she asked me to convince her that things weren't as bad as she thinks they are. She said that she's as worried as I was after 9/11 (my all-time personal benchmark for depression, exceeding even the one caused by Katrina). I hope I convinced her to cheer up.
Dinner with Steve Singer, who is in town with his wife Serena for a week or so. Steve goes by his middle name Max now. He says I am grandfathered in to call him Steve, as he was known when he lived here full-time. He and I worked on a number of publishing projects in the 1970s and 1980s--he as the designer and illustrator, I as editor and writer. We were good enough friends that we dined together once or twice a week. His wife then introduced me to B., who I dated for a while. She was the first I ever considered marrying. I was just twenty-five at the time and got bachelor's cold feet. Mary Ann says I should have married her. What does that mean?
We dined at the Marigny Brasserie. I have not been there lately, and that's a restaurant that requires frequent checking. Its unpredictable changes of chefs and menus every year or so (sometimes more often) makes for wild swings of quality. The current menu is much downscale from what it has been in recent years. It's now closer to being a neighborhood café than the gourmet bistro it had always been before.
We started with a round of cocktails, then a double round of baked oysters in two flavors: Bywater (artichokes, andouille, and a cream sauce) and Italian (garlic, olive oil, bread crumbs, Parmesan). We polished them off quickly enough, and then were into the entrees. Steve was determined to have grillades and grits, even though the version here was offbeat: the grillades were pork instead of the usual veal. Serena ordered a soft-shell crab platter, which impressed her by being crisp and golden brown and including two crabs. I kept to myself something I noticed immediately. The shape of the crab carapaces said that these crabs had traveled a very long way to get to New Orleans.
Before me was a handsome fillet of drumfish, sprinkled with Creole seasoning and grilled. I asked to have hollandaise substituted for the crawfish cream sauce and red beans and rice for the mashed potatoes. No problem: the menu options included both these. I hate fish and mash, love fish and beans. And simply-prepared fish with hollandaise. The fish was beyond reproach. The red beans made me think that red beans may get better on the second day, but not on the third day.
The evening was delightful. Steve was his old New Orleans self again, always going for a laugh and usually coming up with something clever enough to get it. Serena has the zany turn of mind needed to appreciate his humor (and mine, for that matter). We laughed all night.
Steve showed me a copy of a new slick comic book he's planning on publishing called "The Dead Blue Dog." Anyone who has had a bellyful of the original Blue Dog (my hand is raised) will howl at this. His mood was in marked contrast to the one I saw when Steve and I had lunch in Manhattan last October. He seemed down, too focused on his age (just a little older than mine). Although we all have bad days, I am tempted to say that he'd be happier back here in New Orleans. But I don't know enough about his situation.
Marigny Brasserie. Marigny: 640 Frenchmen. 504-945-4472. Contemporary Creole.
Italian.
French Quarter: 539 St. Philip. 504-529-8811. Map.
Dinner Monday-Saturday.
Casual.
AE DC MC V
WHY IT'S NOTEWORTHY
In a part of the French Quarter where most people on the streets are from out of town, Irene's stays full all the time with an enthusiastic mix of local diners and the most avid visitors. They are there for the best of reasons. The food here is lusty, aromatic, ample, simple, just offbeat enough to set it apart from other Italian restaurants, consistent. . . and something of a bargain. This formula has so much appeal that a major theme in any discussion of Irene's is "How long did you have to wait for a table?"
WHY IT'S GOOD
The menu shows a bit more influence from Northern Italy than most New Orleans Italian restaurants do. Pasta and red sauce is good here, but a footnote to the menu rather than a main theme. Roasting, sizzling in olive oil, rife sprinkling of fresh herbs and garlic, and fresh seafood are the main themes. The menu is abbreviated but covers a great deal of ground, with a dish or two from every common food category. And a bit more than that in the seafood department.
BACKSTORY
Irene DiPietro's family has run Italian restaurants around town for decades. She's related to the owner of Fausto's, for example. She and former partner Tommy Andrade--who departed to start up Tommy's in the CBD in the early 2000s--opened Irene's in the early 1990s. It was a hit from the first day, even in the face of a somewhat spartan space and an insufficiency of tables. But food conquered all.
DINING ROOM
It's in an old paper warehouse with many odd spaces. The kitchen, entrance, and bar are not where you'd think to find them. The dark main dining room isn't big enough to accommodate everybody who'd like to eat there, and some tables outside it are not very comfortable. The service is thoroughly friendly but usually a little scarcer than optimal.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
Parma prosciutto with marinated artichokes
Oysters Irene (pancetta and Romano; photo above)
Mussels marinara
Escargots in mushroom caps with garlic butter
Paneed oysters and grilled shrimp
Crabmeat gratin
Ricotta and spinach ravioli
House salad (greens and tomatoes)
Caesar salad
Sauteed fish with shrimp, roasted peppers and corn macquechoux
Pompano amandine
Cioppino (Italian fish stew with pasta)
Shrimp or mussels with linguine
Soft-shell crab with pasta and crawfish sauce
Veal cannelloni
Chicken rosemarino (roasted half, with garlic and rosemary)
Duck St. Philip (raspberry and pancetta demi-glace)
Veal marsala
Lamb Provencal
Bistecca alla fiorentina (ribeye)
Tiramisu
FOR BEST RESULTS
Show up right when the place opens if you don't like waiting.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
There is no good place to wait for a table here. The reservation system is sketchy and can't be counted upon. It was nice when they were open for lunch for a while after the hurricane, but that meal is gone now.
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
- Consistency +3
- Service +1
- Value +2
- Attitude +1
- Wine and Bar +1
- Hipness +2
- Local Color +2
SPECIAL ATTRIBUTES
- Romantic
- Small private room
- Unusually large servings
- Reservations accepted
Microwave Roux
For awhile, I went over to making most dark roux in the microwave oven. I've backed away from the idea, but I still do it at times. At first, I thought it speeded the process up, but now I don't think it does.
Although it has never happened to me, I understand that even heat-proof glass (and you should use no other kind) can suddenly shatter while making something that gets as hot as a roux does. When you take the container out of the oven to stir, put it on top of a dishcloth, not on a cold counter.
The surprise to me is that a roux gets hotter than almost anything else you can put in a microwave. It is possible to burn a roux in the microwave--but not as likely as in the pot on the stove. This must be dealt with by using shorter and shorter bursts between stirrings.
- 1 cup flour
- 2/3 cup oil (or butter, lard, or your favorite fat)
1. Combine the flour and oil in a heat-proof (i.e., Pyrex) measuring cup. Stir it to blend it as completely as you can.
2. Microwave the mixture on high for 2:30 (two minutes and thirty seconds). Remove it from the microwave and stir it very well with a teaspoon or a fork, breaking up any clumps of flour. You may be able to get a smooth mixture (or maybe not), but that is the ideal.
3. Microwave again for 1:30. Remove and stir very well, until smooth. Be careful! This stuff will now be very hot, and the cup and the business end of the stirring implement will be hot enough to burn you severely. (The handle of the cup is usually safe to grasp--but don't take that on faith!)
4. Microwave for 45 seconds. The roux now will be hot enough to continue cooking and darkening while you're stirring it, so keep stirring it, scraping the bottom of the cup and breaking all clumps immediately, until you have a smooth paste. Then stir for another 30 seconds at least.
5. The roux should be dark enough for most purposes by now, but if you want it darker still, microwave it in bursts of 15 seconds or less, with long stirring in between. When it reaches the color you want, keep stirring until it has cooled enough to stop cooking. Or stir in the chopped onions, celery, etc. from the recipe you're working on.
Makes about 2/3 cup of roux.
