Tuesday, August 17, 2010
1110 Restaurants Open Around Town
Coolinary And Other Special Summer Menus Now In Play
Commander's Palace "We Live To Eat" Dinner
This dinner is not until next Thursday, August 26. But if you don't make a reservation today you might not be able to get one. Commander's Palace is joining in the Louisiana Restaurant Association's "We Live To Eat" promotion with a small dinner with big wines. Instead of the usual all-night, five-or-six course affair, this one is three courses (plus a round of hors d'oeuvres in the patio before things get rolling).
The wines will come from the small, celebrated Lynmar Estate, making first-class Pinot Noir and Chardonnay in the Russian River Valley in Sonoma. Lynn Fritz,the man who owns the winery, will team up with Commander's Palace's Wine Guy (that's his real title) Dan Davis and Chef Tory McPhail to host the affair.
Mussels on the Half-Shell
With saffron rouille
Goat Cheese Canapes
Parmesan tuilles with aged cherry balsamic vinaigrette
Summer Peach Champagne Cocktail
Roasted Louisiana White Shrimp and Steamed Lobster Risotto
With preserved lemon and shaved Romano cheese
Wine: 2007 Lynmar Estate Russian River Valley Chardonnay
Oven Roasted Farm Raised Quail
Stuffed with venison and black currant dirty rice and rye whiskey choucroute
Wine: 2007 Lynmar Estate Russian River Valley Pinot Noir
Louisiana Fig, Boysenberry, Bacon, and Brillat-Savarin Triple-Cream Cheese Gallette
With bruleed figs and a reduction of Maury Vin Doux Naturel du Grenache
Wine: 2007 Lynmar Estate Sonoma Coast Reserve Syrah
Thursday, August 26, things start at six-thirty with cocktails and appetizers in the patio, then proceed indoors for the shank of the dinner at seven. The price is $65 per person plus tax and gratuity. Make reservations with Melissa Wallace at 504-207-9312 or mwallace@commanderspalace.com.
Commander's Palace. Garden District: 1403 Washington Ave., 504-899-8221.
All 29 Summer Menus So Far
NOMenu has a page listing not only all the summer specials we know about, but all the menus, too. I'm adding new ones daily. That list is now online here.
Three Muses Opens; Mande's Reopens
Three Hundred More Restaurants
Now Than Before Katrina
Last weekend, as I updated our list of every open restaurant in New Orleans, a happy statistic emerged from two other bits of good news. We now have 1110 restaurants open in the New Orleans area.
That's 301 more than before Hurricane Katrina, and the largest number of restaurants here in history.
There was a lot of flux in the number that weekend. I'd just cleaned out a lot of closed places from the list as a result of a mailed survey sent out a few weeks ago. But that was more than balanced by an unexpected efflorescence of new openings.
Two of the new openings were particularly interesting. The Three Muses, a new bistro with Chef Daniel Esses as one of the trio of partners, had a soft opening last week at 536 Frenchmen in the Marigny. That's a good location, between Decatur and Chartres, and a half-block away from the big French market parking lot on Elysian Fields.
Chef Daniel is the major draw, however. His resume includes cooking in distinguished restaurants all over the world, as well as stints here at Peristyle, August, Bank Cafe, and Marigny Brasserie. The latter two were at their peaks when Esses was there. It should be delicious when I get there in December or so. The novelty-seekers are already filling the place.
Meanwhile, on the North Shore, Frank and Joan Bua have reopened Mande's. For decades it was the leading breakfast hangout in Mandeville. But the Bua's lives--to say nothing of the restaurant's structure--were messed up by the hurricane, and it's only now that they've put them back together. Bua has kept busy playing music with the Radiators, his better-known gig. Judging by the number of calls I've had about Mande's since the K, it was much missed.
The list of 1110s restaurant began three weeks after Hurricane Katrina with a list twenty-two open restaurants. It lists every restaurant where cooking and serving are done on the premises, with the exception of most fast food, delivery, and take-out establishments.
The Three Muses. Marigny: 536 Frenchmen St. 504-298-8746. Contemporary Creole.
Mande's. Mandeville: 340 N Causeway Blvd . 985-626-9047. Neighborhood Cafe. Breakfast.
Friday, August 6. No Daddy-Daughter Dinner; Sob! Dinner At Meson 923; Grin! Mary Leigh called en route home from a week on the Florida beaches. She wanted to have dinner with me. I don't know which of us felt more remorse about my not being able to do it. Since we're leaving for Los Angeles Monday, I must go into town to record a bunch of radio commercials.
And I have a dinner appointment with my friend and dermatologist Dr. Bob DeBellevue, who wants to go to Meson 923. We've canceled that dinner twice already, and I can't do it again at the last minute. I always feel terrible about disappointing my daughter, but I suppose it must happen now and then.
I first met Dr. Bob in 1982, when he and I were regulars at the marvelous Thursday wine tastings at Martin Wine Cellar. Bob was an early expert on Australian wines--not widely consumed in New Orleans then. We became good enough friends that he was one of the groomsmen at my wedding. He's also one of the few people whose taste in restaurants I trust completely. When Bob calls to have dinner at a new restaurant, he's already been there several times and found it worthwhile. That's enough for me.
Bob, his lady friend Julie, and his cousin Nye Simmons were already there when I crossed the threshold of 923 South Peters Street. Nye is also an M.D., specializing in emergency medicine in Knoxville. And he's a wine collector. He was packing bottles of 1989 Chateau Pichon Lalande and a 1962 Chateau d'Yquem. That's some collection he must have. Bob also brought a little something: 2007 Vosne-Romanee, produced by the owners of the nearby Domaine de la Romanee Conti. That outfit makes what may be the best red wines in the world. Or at least the rarest and most expensive. The Vosne-Romanee is just over $100, making it a comparative bargain.
I brought nothing. My wine money has gone in other directions since that day Dr. Bob stood next to me in the church, as we waited for Mary Ann to walk up the aisle. I have some wine, but it's not in this league. The best I can offer is to pick up the corkage fees.
Meson 923's opening a few months ago was one of the most auspicious in recent years. It's a serious, stylish gourmet house. Former Emeril's and August chef Christopher Lynch is in the kitchen. The owners put significant dollars into the handsome renovation of a fine old Warehouse District building.
There doesn't appear to be much more than a bar on the ground floor. Dinner begins with an elevator ride to a cool, imaginatively lit room on the second story. The first thing I noticed: placemats. Nice placemats. No tablecloths. That trend must really be picking up steam if a place like this is following it.
The menu also moves with the currents. It starts with a section of "crudo"--uncooked food. Quite a lot of those, some of it with a sushi-bar aspect. We began with several of them. My first was corn, avocado, tomato, hamachi (Japanese for yellowtail fish), and a mild jalapeno vinaigrette, all tossed together land laid out in a line. I listed the ingredients in order of their bulk in aggregation. The whole thing had a fresh appeal, with a nice contrast of textures.
Somebody else (it didn't matter who, because we were passing plates around all night) had diver scallops, again served raw, in a puree of cauliflower. I don't know why top-quality scallops aren't served raw more often. We eat oysters that way, don't we?
One more move in the raw-seafood theme. Cubes of tuna tartare, little tomatoes and a ball of sorbet whose flavor had aspects of ginger and tomato (I should have asked).
More preliminary courses, still cold. Paper-thin prosciutto with a little salad and some crisp asparagus spears. A bowl of the soup du jour, with the intense color and flavor of beets and some kind of herbal oil floated on top.
We shifted to the hot side of the menu. Pappardelle pasta (extra-wide fettuccine) was tossed with shreds of duck leg confit, with a creamy sauce and a topping of what looked like peanuts and arugula. We avidly devoured two portions of this.
The timing was perfect for the Vosne-Romanee. Vosne-Romanee was the first big-deal wine I ever bought. (From Jack Duarte, 1963 vintage.) I was crazy about it, but that was an off-bottling, and I have not seen much of it since. It's a great Pinot Noir with a wonderful finish. It sure worked with the pappardelle.
With great care but still a breaking of the cork, the Pichon-Lalande was opened as the entrees arrived. The upper one tenth of one percent of my wine experiences involved old Pauillacs. Their fabulous bouquet was something I noticed before I'd ever heard that this was what these wines were famous for. It was like discovering that girls smell good. (Different aroma.) I have been concerned that I've not noted this magical Pauillac nose in a long time. I wondered whether the wines weren't making that anymore, or whether I've lost that part of my sense of smell. That's why the Pichon was a double ecstasy for me. Here was that bouquet again. A lot of people call it a cigar-box aroma, and I can see that--but I wouldn't call it that. It's something like. . . well, there's nothing like it, really.
It was good in the drinking, too. I was very happy that I'd ordered the filet mignon, even though a) I consider that an unimaginative order in a place like this and b) it was cooked sous vide, a method of which I am suspicious. Sous vide is the process of enclosing a food in a vacuum pack, simmering it in a water bath until cooked a point, and then finishing it in a broiler or in a pan. The result, in this case, was incomparable juiciness and tenderness. And a piece of protein eminently well paired with this magnificent wine.
Everybody else ordered the slow-roasted duck breast with sweet potatoes, mushrooms, and corn. The sauce was a new one on me, but it worked just fine: cherry-bacon vinaigrette.
That course was memorable. But another marked moment was coming. Three desserts: rice pudding, a blueberry cake, and a cheese plate. All nice, they performed a sideshow to the big event: a very well-aged Chateau d'Yquem, the world's most celebrated sweet wine, bought somewhere in Alabama (the ancient tax sticker said that), and cared for well in Dr. Nye's cellar. It was deep into the brown phase of its color evolution. A blind wine buff could have said that. The flavors and aromas were wonderfully caramelized. It smelled like butterscotch sauce. Spectacular! We only drank half the bottle; a little Yquem goes a long way. (They finished it the next night, I later learned.)
As it turned out, the restaurant didn't charge a corkage fee. The dinner for four, before the tip, was $287. Less than I expected. (Of course, we tipped extra for the special wine work the waiter needed to perform.)
I would have paid another $50 for a tablecloth. I know that this feeling is fueled by a lifetime of always seeing tablecloths in restaurants where one would go for distinguished food and wines. I know the vogue is going the other way. That doesn't mean I like placemats, or will ever stop complaining about them.
As long as I'm carping, I think they could have picked a better name for the restaurant, too. I'm already sick of being asked on the radio about "Mesa 458,or whatever." Every time I look at the name, it seems like the name of a subatomic particle.
On the other hand, we now have another new restaurant in the four-to-five-star range.
Mesón 923. Warehouse District: 923 S. Peters. 504-523-9200.
Click here for the Dining Diary entry before the ones above.
Click here for an index to the last five years of entries.
Japanese.
CBD: 920 Poydras. 504-561-8914. Map.
Lunch Monday-Friday. Dinner seven nights.
Casual
AE DC MC V
WHY IT'S NOTEWORTHY
With terrific cooking from one of the widest-ranging Japanese menus in town, plus a first-class sushi bar, Horinoya is in a place few people think about for such eats: the CBD. People who work downtown, and some who go to events at the Superdome and the Arena know about it, though. And so do Japanese visitors, whose hotels are within walking distance.
WHY IT'S GOOD
Chef Komei is unusually choosy about the provenance of his raw materials, even by the exacting standards of Japanese chefs. The fish in the sushi bar is beautiful to behold, cut with precision, served at the perfect cool temperature, and vivid in flavor. You will almost certainly find a fish here you've never had before, or at least in a long time. The hot side of the menu features more foodstuffs one rarely sees--"mountain potato," for example.
BACKSTORY
In 2002 the Horimotos--a couple who formerly ran the excellent Little Tokyo franchise on St. Charles Avenue--took over a little cafe across from Le Pavillon Hotel. They gave the narrow space a bright, comfortable renovation and picked up where they left off.
DINING ROOM
This is a smaller restaurant than it at first appears, courtesy of an ingenious design--and mirrors. The first tables you encounter are barely inside the door. An archway in the rear leads to the sushi bar. The chef's wife is all over the room, making people comfortable and keeping the service snappy.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
Sushi and sashimi.
Chirashi sushi combination.
Grilled black cod.
Monkfish liver.
Beef negimaki.
Sukiyaki and shabu-shabu.
Multi-course kaiseki dinners.
FOR BEST RESULTS
At the sushi bar, ask questions about what may be available, insisting that you'll try anything. Lengthy kaiseki dinners of many small courses are available for alarmingly high prices ($60-100), but the experience is well worth the investment.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
The restaurant could stand a few repairs here and there.
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
- Attitude +1
- Wine and Bar
- Hipness +1
- Local Color
SPECIAL ATTRIBUTES
- Good for business meetings
- Medium private room
- Open Sunday dinner
- Open Monday lunch and dinner
- Open some holidays
- Quick, good meal
- Reservations accepted
Creme Brulee
The main difference between creme brulee and caramel custard is that the former is made with cream and has the sugar crusted on top; the latter is made with milk and has sugar caramelized into a syrup at the bottom of the baking cup.
Creme brulee must be baked very carefully and slowly, or it will not reach its proper perfect semi-flowing state. You can't do it in standard custard cups; much better are shallow (an inch or so deep) glass or ceramic ramekins or au gratin dishes. They also have to be straight-sided, so there's no thin rim of custard to burn when you blast the sugar topping.
I strongly recommend you get hold of Ronald Reginald's Vanilla Bean Marinade for this. It's a great vanilla created by Chef Warren LeRuth and made here in New Orleans. The actual vanilla beans in the bottle not only give flavor but those appealing vanilla bean flecks.
- 4 heaping Tbs. light brown sugar
- 2 cups whipping cream
- 4 large egg yolks
- 1/3 cup sugar
- 1/2 Tbs. Ronald Reginald's Vanilla Bean Marinade (or some other top-class, powerful vanilla)
1. The first step is not essential, but does give an extra measure of elegance. Spread the brown sugar out, breaking all the lumps, on a big plate. Put it into the microwave oven for 10 minutes at 10 percent power, then let it cool for 30 minutes. This will remove the excess moisture from the brown sugar and keep it from turning to syrup when you blast it later.
2. The best utensil for baking creme brulee is one of those air-insulated square baking pans. If you don't have one, you can get the same effect by setting a dishtowel in the bottom. Place the baking dishes in the pan and hold ready.
3. Combine 1/4 cup of cream and the egg yolks in a metal bowl, and whisk to blend well. Stir in the sugar until nearly dissolved.
4. Put the rest of the cream into a small saucepan and heat it over medium heat until wisps of steam start appearing. (Don't boil even a little.)
5. Shake the bottle of vanilla-bean marinade vigorously, then measure the vanilla into the warm cream. Stir, then pour the warm cream slowly into the metal bowl while whisking.
6. Strain the custard through a fine sieve into a big measuring cup. Pour the custard into the baking dishes.
7. Pour hot water (it's okay to just get it out of the faucet) into the pan until it's halfway up the sides of the baking dishes. Put the pan into the preheated 325-degree oven and bake for 30 minutes.
8. Remove the dishes from the pan and set out to cool for a half hour, then refrigerate for at least three hours, or as long as a day.
9. When ready to serve, preheat the broiler. (Or the broil feature of the toaster oven, which works better for this than you might imagine.) Sprinkle enough brown sugar on top of each custard to completely cover, and run them under the broiler for about 30 seconds--until the sugar melts. You might want to turn the dishes so that this happens uniformly.
Serve immediately to four.
