Thursday, July 8, 2010
1104 Restaurants Open Around Town
GW Fins Summer Menu, $35,
Kicks Back Funds To Oil Spill Remediation
GW Fins, the superb seafood house across the street form Arnaud's, runs a good summer menu ever year. This one is as attractive a deal as ever--$35 for three courses. But there's a new reason to take advantage of the "Fins Feast Menu." Gary Wollerman and Chef Tenney Flynn, the owners, are sending five dollars of the price to local, regional and national conservation organizations as they try to deal with the effects of the oil spill. Among the recipients are Barataria-Terrebonne National Estuary Program, Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana, National Audubon Society, National Wildlife Federation and The Nature Conservancy. Now that the oil is beginning to penetrate even into Lake Pontchartrain (which had seemed safe), the urgency of this effort is clear.
Your help in this effort is delicious, too. The menu changes every day at GW Fins as the seafood market does, but every day they have a dozen or so different fin fish from all over the world (but mostly from Louisiana), and Chef Tenney bangs out a few new dishes to take advantage of what's fresh. Here is a sampling of the food you'll find on the Fins Feast $35 menu:
Blue Hill Bay Mussels
With chanterelles, chinese sausage and rice noodles
~or~
Butter Lettuce Salad
With deviled eggs and green goddess dressing
~or~
Seafood Cocktail Veracruz
With shrimp, crabmeat and squid
Sautéed Arctic Char
With Asian vegetables, sticky rice and a sweet soy butter
~or~
Wood Grilled Canadian Salmon
With a pepper salsa and chipotle butter sauce
~or~
Wood Grilled Rainbow Trout
With spinach, shiitake mushrooms, oysters and Smithfield ham
~or~
Parmesan Crusted Carolina Catfish Meuniere
With asparagus, lump crab and fried capers
~or~
Thai Bouillabaisse
Shrimp, mussels and whitefish and rice noodles in a green curry broth
Pecan Pie
~or~
Panna Cotta
~or~
Frozen Fruit Soufflée
Again, the menu changes daily, but it will be along these lines Sunday through Thursday nights only for dinner through the end of August. The regular menu is also available every night.
GW Fins. French Quarter: 808 Bienville, 504-581-3467.
All The Summer Menus So Far
Over the weekend, I built a page on this site listing not only all the summer specials I know about, with the menus, too. That list is now online here.
Wednesday, June 30. Domenica. Mary Ann's plan--which would change, as they usually do--is to leave town for Washington, D.C. tomorrow morning at four a.m. Jude and Mary Leigh both will be with her. It's a pleasure trip. I can't go; I have an Eat Club next week and a book signing this weekend.
Meanwhile, the vacation time I set aside has been nullified by MA, who says that all plans (whatever they were; I never knew) for the last two weeks of July have been canceled. Now she's talking about a trip to Los Angeles the second week of August--but the radio sales guys have already sold remotes for most of that month. It looks as of the only way I'll get a vacation is to just go somewhere by myself. But I've had quite enough of that in the past year, after two solo cruises. Is this the family values Mary Ann always shakes her fist about?
For a farewell dinner, Mary Ann and Jude met me for dinner at Domenica. (Mary Leigh was busy with her own social vortices.) We began with a pizza, of course. And a cocktail called a Spaghetti Western. This was made with bourbon, Campari, and some sort of extract of rosemary. I could imagine the Southwestern desert, the rosemary giving off an aroma reminiscent of greasewood. Greasewood, despite the unappealing name, has a beguiling, resin-like aroma, especially after a rainstorm.
When I wasn't looking, the server came by and whisked this drink away. I know it looked like an empty glass, but I wasn't finished with it. I was down to the point of rattling the ice around and getting the last few sips. This happens often enough that servers ought to be more aware of it. The management came up with a near-perfect remedy: they brought me another one. I didn't really want a second cocktail. It's never as good as the first one, and I only want the best. But I could hardly complain.
The pizza--four cheeses on this side, sausage and mushrooms on that--was close to perfect. The bottom of the crust was a little too humid. Mary Ann was the one who noticed that. (I had had one too many Spaghetti Westerns.) I blamed the dampness on the mushrooms, which throw off a lot of water as they cook. So does fresh mozzarella, come to think of it--and that was my idea.
Jude is still a chicken fiend, and here came a half chicken, roasted in the pan, surrounded by fresh peas and wild mushrooms. In other words, it was a renovated chicken Clemenceau, easy on the garlic. It was very good. Mary Ann indulged in a half-order of meatballs (which was three, but on the small side) in a red sauce, atop creamy polenta. She was happy with that (below).
In front of me was pesto gnocchi (below), pillowlike and tasty, surrounded by most of the ingredients of pesto (pine nuts, garlic) and a few chunks of tomato. The value in the dish came from the generous admixture of jumbo lump crabmeat. Good dish, mildly flavored--but that's what you want with crabmeat like this. The work filled one of those rectangular dishes they love to use here. They're deep enough to hold a fair portion of food, but they look ridiculously small just sitting there. Not for the first time here did I miss underliner plates.
In the middle of the dinner, I got up and went next door to the Sazerac Restaurant , to see what was going on there and inspect the menu. Closed! Dinner Thursday through Sunday only! Hmm.
The only dessert here I'd not yet had was the blueberry cheesecake. It looked and tasted beautiful, mainly because none of its elements had descended into goo. The berries were especially pretty and tasty.
Three cars brought the Fitzmorris family of four the fifty miles home. En route, Mary Ann decided that they would put off their departure for the Northeast until Friday, and make the entire 1,069-mile run in a single day. Well, with three drivers, I guess that's doable. But on Fourth of July weekend? Better them than me. But it gives us another day together.
Domenica. CBD: 123 Baronne (Roosevelt Hotel). 504-648-6020. Italian. Pizza.
Thursday, July 1, 2010. Yu Jin. Acme. And Good-Bye. I stayed at the Cool Water Ranch for the radio show today, which allowed me to have a meal with each of my children separately. Not my idea. But Jude and I have this tradition of a sushi lunch whenever he's in town, and the Marys don't touch the stuff.
We indulged at Yu Jin, the minimal but good Japanese restaurant in Covington. It's owned by Rigoberto Hernandez (he is as Hispanic as that sounds). Jude and I first met him when he was a chef at the Little Tokyo in Mandeville, where we first acquired this habit. Rigoberto was proud to see that Jude has graduated from his formerly unswerving choice of chicken teriyaki to eating actual raw-fish sushi. But how could he live in Los Angeles without that on his menu?
The big non-work item on Jude's agenda right now is moving. After two years in an edgy apartment in downtown L.A., he has decided he needs a house closer to Beverly Hills. This, he says, is because most of his film work is in that neighborhood, and he's sick of driving across town through the rightly notorious L.A. traffic. He thinks he can find a house for between three and four grand a month, and share the rent with a couple of other guys--one of which is ready to make that deal right away. I told him it's all fine with me if he pays for it. He's making enough money working on films that he doesn't view it as a big challenge. I'm proud of that boy. When I was his age, I paid my own rent, too. But it was $75 a month.
We discussed all this over some edamame beans (above), a Burning Man roll (our default whenever we come here, full of spicy stuff), a chef's special roll (salmon, tuna, yellowtail, no crab), and some nigiri uni (below). Jude has not made it to uni--sea urchin gonads--yet. I love it.
After dispatching the radio show from my room, it was Mary Leigh's turn for dinner with Dad. The Acme, of course. The usual everything. Then back home, and everybody but me packed the car for the journey, staying up later than I did, even though they would be leaving in just four hours.
Yu jin. Covington: 323 N New Hampshire. 985-809-3840. Japanese.
Italian. Sandwiches.
French Quarter: 933 Decatur. 504-525-1602. Map.
Lunch and dinner continuously seven days
Casual.
AE DC DS MC V
Website
WHY IT'S NOTEWORTHY
An uninitiated New Orleanian (many of us are, when it comes to the French Quarter) who gave Frank's a passing glance is likely to size it up as strictly for visitors. Like everything in the neighborhood of the French Market, the tourists are a big part of the business. But Frank's credentials as a real New Orleans Italian restaurant go two generations back, and eating there is surprisingly good. The place specializes in muffulettas by day, but the local Italian standards are cooked carefully and well.
WHY IT'S GOOD
In the days when the Central Grocery and Progress Grocery ruled the muffuletta universe, Frank's kept right up with them--on the same block, yet. Its muffs are still among the best around, and dominate the orders at lunchtime. As the clock ticks onward, more people are pulled in by the aromas of garlic, olive oil, herbs, and tomato sauce. The olfactory promises are fulfilled by big platters (there is no other size here) of pasta, seafood, veal, chicken, and steaks, all wrapped with one of those old-time, Sicilian-inspired, long-cooked, sweet, smooth red sauces. Or Alfredo or aglio olio. It's all good.
BACKSTORY
Frank Gagliano opened his muffuletta shop on Decatur Street in 1965, still part of the Italian culture that dominated the life of the French Quarter in the first half of the 1900s. When his sons came of age the operation expanded into a neighborhood-style, full-menu restaurant. One of the brothers left a few years to open his own restaurant--Ristorante Filippo in Metairie.
DINING ROOM
The bottom floor could be anywhere in Italy, with its crammed-in counter, tables, cases of beer, wine racks, and service bar. It's really set up to sell a lot of muffulettas at lunch. It's not at all unpleasant for dinner, but a nicer room (it doesn't look like the same restaurant, and even has a balcony overlooking the river) is up a long flight of steep stairs. Those stairs keep the more colorful older waiters downstairs, though--and joking around with the waiters is part of the fun.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
Mussels marinara
Fried shrimp, crawfish or calamari
Crabmeat-stuffed mushrooms
Stuffed artichoke
Italian olive salad
Caprese salad ("Capraci" on the menu; tomatoes, mozzarella, olive oil, basil)
Seafood gumbo
Corn and crab bisque
Muffuletta
Poor boy sandwiches, especially roast beef, Italian sausage, meatball, or fried seafood
Red beans and rice
Fried seafood platters
Shrimp Gagliano (with artichokes, mushrooms, lemon butter, and pasta)
Veal or chicken Parmigiano
Veal or chicken Marsala
Veal or chicken piccata
Spaghetti with Italian sausage or meatballs
Cheese ravioli
Fettuccine Alfredo
Ribeye or filet mignon
Cannoli
Tiramisu
FOR BEST RESULTS
Ask to have the muffuletta unheated. At dinner, ask the waiter what he might be able to get the kitchen to do specially for you. It doesn't seem that everything they serve is actually on the menu.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
They need to clear away about twenty-five percent of the stuff in the main dining room.
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 +2
- Service +1
- Value +1
- Attitude +2
- Wine and Bar
- Hipness -2
- Local Color +2
SPECIAL ATTRIBUTES
- Romantic
- Large private room
- Open Sunday lunch and dinner
- Open Monday lunch and dinner
- Open most holidays
- Open all afternoon
- Historic
- Unusually large servings
- Quick, good meal
- Good for children
Cheesecake Bread Pudding
This came about when I was preparing to have a book signing at Octavia Books, and was asked to bring along something delicious to serve the customers. I hadn't decided what that would be when the idea came to me in the shower that morning. It's simple enough: the usual custard in which the stale French bread is soaked has some aspects (cream cheese, mostly) of a cheesecake filling. The second time around, I used Creole cream cheese, too, and that made it even better. Everything else is like a standard New Orleans bread pudding.
- 4 8-oz. packages cream cheese or Creole cream cheese, or any combination of the two
- 2 cups sugar
- 1 cup sour cream
- 18 eggs
- 1 1/2 quarts half-and-half (or whole milk, if you prefer)
- 4 Tbs. vanilla
- 1/4 cup orange juice
- Zest (grated peel) of one orange
- 2 Tbs. cinnamon
- 1 loaf stale poor boy bread
- 1 cup white raisins
Preheat oven to 300 degrees.
1. Put the cream cheese and the sugar into the bowl of a mixer and blend on medium-slow speed until completely blended and fluffy--about 10 minutes.
2. Add the sour cream to the mixer bowl. With a rubber spatula, scrape down the sides of the bowl after this and each other ingredient addition throughout the recipe.
3. Add the eggs, one at a time, allowing them to blend in completely before adding the next one. (Break each egg into a cup first to make sure it's okay before you add it.)
4. Add the half-and-half, the vanilla, the orange juices, and the zest. Mix for another five minutes or so.
5. Slice the bread about an inch thick. Butter a 13-by-9-inch baking dish, and make a shingled layer of the bread slices along the bottom and up the sides. Dust liberally with cinnamon. Sprinkle on about a third of the raisins. Pour about a third of the custard over the bread, enough to soak it and leave some liquid in the gaps.
6. Repeat the above step twice, to make three or layers. Make sure the bread is well soaked. Leave out some of the bread if necessary to make sure all the bread you use is very wet with custard.
7. Set the baking dish in a pan of warm water, and bake in the preheated 300-degree oven for about an hour and a half. Remove and cool until lukewarm.
The pudding can be served warm, at room temperature, or even ice-cold (the latter is good for breakfast). Serves about 12.
