Thursday, August 19, 2010
1110 Restaurants Open Around Town
Coolinary And Other Special Summer Menus Now In Play
"We Live To Eat" At Broussard's Tonight
Broussard's, the grand old restaurant on Conti Street, is one of the restaurants staging a "We Live To Eat" dinner. That's a promotion encouraged by the Louisiana Restaurant Association, and you may expect to see many more of these, particularly during the summer. It starts with hours d'oeuvres in the courtyard at 6:30 p.m. tonight (Thursday, August 19), then moves into the dining room for a four-course wine dinner at seven. The flavors will be on the light, refreshing side. Here's the menu:
Ceviche
Seafood with poblano pepper relish
Wine: Broussard's Ginger Martini
Crabmeat and Cantaloupe Salad
With arugula, red onions, and sherry vinaigrette
Wine: Groom Sauvignon Blanc 2009
Cucumber and Rock Shrimp Gazpacho
Spicy grilled shrimp with lardons and sourdough croutons
American Red Snapper Veracruz Style
Pan-seared, with Creole tomato salsa Veracruzana
Wine: Ruffino Pinot Grigio 2009
Citron Sorbet
Infused with tequila, topped with berries
Adding to the pleasures of this evening will be the music of New Orleans trumpeter James Andrews. The price is a very attractive $65, inclusive of tax, tip, and wines. Reserve, of course. And dress down (but not too).
Broussard's. French Quarter: 813 Conti. 504-581-3866.,
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.
Monday, August 9. ML To LA. Home, On Vacation. Bear's. Up at three-thirty to pick up Mary Leigh at quarter to five so she can fly to Los Angeles at six. I should have been traveling with her, but the gods seem to want to prevent my taking a vacation this year. I stayed with her until she got to the front of the extra-long security line (just one TSA agent at the head of it!), then hugged her good-bye.
Here was the opportunity to eat breakfast somewhere. My coverage of that meal is not up to my standards. I went to the Tiffin Inn, the old pancake-and-burger joint on Veterans. I have not been there in decades. A few people--including a well-dressed, successful attorney I know--have been bragging on the place. But at six-thirty they weren't open! I though it was a twenty-four-hour place.
I joined the commuters heading downtown. I had one more duty at the radio station before I could forget about the show for the next seven days. The sixteen commercials I recorded at home last night need to be loaded into the system at the station. It was the first time I did this irritating but necessary task this much easier way.
Time on my hands, I entered Bob Del Giorno's studio and sat down while he rambled on about something or other. He didn't see me come in, and I startled him when he looked up and saw what he called "this face on the other side of the desk." We spent a few minutes talking about food and the oil spill and the fish and stuff. I made my prediction again that by Thanksgiving we would all be wondering why we were so worried.
"What are you doing here at this hour?" a number of people in the hallways asked.
"I'm on vacation, and I can do whatever I want," I told them.
What I wanted now was breakfast. I thought about getting it at Café Adelaide, but I know that story. I remembered Deanie's in the Warehouse District, which has always did a marvelous, cheap breakfast. Hardly anyone was there, and the lady behind the counter--not the owner, who I know well--said that all she had were eggs. No biscuits, bacon, omelettes, or any of the other good things they serve. Bah.
My third attempt met with success--sort of. I drove up to the lakefront and Russell's Marina Grill. They were as busy as I remember from the days when Jude and I occasionally stopped there for breakfast on our way to Christian Brothers School. (Was that really eight years ago?) I have never been a fan of Russell's, but enough people are wild about it that I keep coming back now and then, just to see if maybe I'm missing something.
I ordered an omelette with Italian sausage and cheese, and a side of potatoes and a biscuit. They make omelettes the way the Camellia Grill does: very fluffy, but rather dry and scorched. (My way: moist but not runny, with no patches of brown on the bright yellow exterior.) I would not swear that the biscuit was made in house. The coffee was ordinary. The server was cheerful and prompt. I think this may be one of those restaurants whose regulars have learned to love it by becoming used to it. Doesn't make my grade.
It was a sunny day now, perfect for my daughter to fly in. I went home and got to work on today's newsletter. I set aside my plan to make heavy use of reruns and wrote all new stuff. I had the time, and then some. It felt good to finally catch up on things that fell behind on that abortive Texas trip of two weeks ago.
Dinner at Bear's Grill in Mandeville. Its roast beef poor boy has been on my mind for weeks. I asked for a small one, hold the fries, easy on the gravy. The local glorification of sloppiness in this sandwich puts so much gravy on it in some places that the point that the bread disintegrates. Bear's, good as it is, is guilty of this.
But the Ask For A Little, Get A Lot Effect took over. I believe that when you make a special request in a restaurant on the lower end of the price spectrum, you often get the opposite of what you ask for. You're usually better off not asking at all. The sandwich came with a truly ridiculous amount of gravy, even more than the usual overload.
The most absurd example of this occurred in the very good Thai Gardens a couple of years ago. I ordered four courses. I told the server that I did not want any two courses on the table at one time.
Okay, she said. She brought the soup. I was three slurps into it when she came over and said, "You ready for the chicken wings now?" No, I said. Not until I finish with this.
"I'll bring it right out," she said. And she did. I was still working on the soup--hadn't touched the chicken wings yet--and saw her looking at me. We exchanged glances. I knew what she was thinking, but before I could swallow the food in my mouth to tell her to hold up the next course, she disappeared into the kitchen, and brought out the beef salad.
"Really, please--no more food until I'm finished with all this!" I implored. Okay, she said. I finally finished the soup, and was nibbling away on the stuffed chicken wings when I saw her walking out with the entree. Now all four courses were on the table. If I'd said nothing, this wouldn't have happened.
Mary Ann called while I was on my way back home. They're already having fun, with Jude blasting them around L.A. for In-And-Our Burgers and Pinkberry and all that West Coast stuff. She is trying to talk me into flying up there after my gig with the Today show this Thursday, and fly back Sunday. And we would all go up to San Francisco. Nothing easy, of course. It makes me tired just to listen to her overloaded plans.
Russell’s Marina Grill. West End: 8555 Pontchartrain Blvd. 504-282-9980. Diner. Breakfast.
Bear’s Grill & Spirits. Mandeville: 1809 N Causeway Blvd. 985-674-9090. Poor boys.
Tuesday, August 10. Sandy's Delight Reprise. Thai Orchid. Despite the collapse of my original vacation plans, I like being sort of off the clock. Not having a radio show to do adds five or six hours to my day. I took one of them in mid-morning, and had breakfast at the Abita Springs Café. Mary Leigh and I used to go there every Saturday for breakfast, but that ended over a year ago, when her new social life ballooned and pushed our old habits out.
Her standard order in the good old days was an off-menu combination dating back three owners ago. Sandy's Delight consists of two small pancakes (they'd be normal-size pancakes anywhere else, but the normal flapjack here is about a foot across), a single scrambled egg, and four slices of bacon. I'd eat the egg portion of this, plus another side dish. It worked out perfectly.
It's been months since I've been to the Abita Springs Café myself. So how could I not get a Sandy's Delight today? I did, and it was great. I can't believe I ate both pancakes.
I can believe that most people make restaurant plans not according to their hungers of the moment, but for geographical considerations. I knew that I wanted to go to Slidell for dinner, but I wasn't sure where. Michael's, Stone's Bistro, and Nathan's came to mind, but all of those would be long meals with a couple of glasses of wine, and I wasn't up for that.
The Thai Orchid was new to me. It's on Robert Boulevard, not far from Young's Steakhouse. Every report from readers and listeners about the place has glowed. Those people were not in a mood for Thai food this night, however. Only one other table was in the place when I arrived at about eight. (Slidell eats early.) And those people were past Eat Club dinner attendees, and recognized me in the usual way--when I spoke.
I spoke to the one waitress, who I think may also have been the owner. They were out of Thai beer, so I had an Abita. The feast began with tom yum goong soup, cloudier than I'm accustomed to seeing. But, contrary to widely-held belief, ethnic restaurants cook no more alike than their local counterparts do. If we can accept gumbos in a thousand different styles, why can't Thai tom yum goong vary from place to place? In fact, this was delicious. So was the single, well-stuffed chicken wing. I eat in Thai restaurants a lot, but this is the first time I've had this dish in years--except for one about a year ago during an Eat Club dinner at NOLA.
The name of the entree was familiar, but I couldn't remember having it before. I certainly will have it again. Paht (or pad) prik king is a juicy stir fry of meat (the waitress told me to get pork when I asked her advice) with green beans (a critical ingredient), bell pepper, carrots, cucumbers, and red curry. I've had dishes that fit that description before, but this had a completely new flavor to my palate. I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Recipes I've checked on books and online make mention of ginger, and maybe that was it.
Home to the empty house. The radio in the kitchen plays WWNO all the time when everyone else is gone. The dog Suzie seems depressed. The cat Twinnery is behaving normally. I continue to go to sleep to the sounds of a live radio music show from the 1940s, featuring an orchestra led by Lyn Murray, with occasional performances by a marvelous singer named Audrey Marsh. But I've been listening to these shows--I have about forty fifteen-minute broadcasts--for the past year, and it's about time for me to put them to rest. I won't do it until the Marys come home, though.
Thai Orchid. Slidell: 785 Robert Blvd. 985-781-0240. Thai.
Click here for the Dining Diary entry before the ones above.
Click here for an index to the last five years of entries.
Middle Eastern.
Covington: 1958 N. US 190. 985-867-8292. Map.
Lunch and dinner continuously seven days.
Casual.
AE DC DS MC V
Website
WHY IT'S NOTEWORTHY
As common as Middle Eastern restaurants are in New Orleans proper, they are rare on the North Shore. The Covington branch of the Baton Rouge-based chain Albasha is the only one of significance. It offers the standard menu of Lebanese cooking, plus a smattering of Greek food, in a spacious, bright, sharp restaurant.
WHY IT'S GOOD
The food here is just okay. While I've never considered sending anything back, everything I've had here is less good than what I'm accustomed to eating in the best New Orleans Lebanese restaurants. I've certainly tried it often enough: when one has a taste for this cuisine, one must have it, and it's really the only game in town. Maybe that's the problem.
BACKSTORY
The name translates as something like "the man in charge" or "the boss." Albasha opened its first location in Baton Rouge, which has long had a larger community of Middle Eastern restaurants than New Orleans. The Covington branch opened in 2007, in a new strip mall next to the Abita River.
DINING ROOM
The big windows, tall ceilings and clean lines make the restaurant airy and comfortable. The young servers are efficient and pleasant.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
Hummus
Baba ghanouj
Tzatziki ("Grecian sauce")
Fried kibbe
Falafel
Spinach pies
Fried halloumi cheese
Meat stuffed bell pepper, grape leaves, cabbage rolls, or squash
Feta cheese with olives
Mujadarah
Lentil soup
Feta cheese salad
Fatoush salad
Tabboule
Gyros plate or sandwich
Chicken shawarma plate or sandwich
Souvlaki (shish kabob) plate or sandwich
Falafel sandwich
Chicken shawarma or gyros salad
Moussaka (eggplant or squash)
Lamb shank
Kafta kabob plate
Vegetarian plate
Shrimp shish kabob
Broiled shrimp scampi
Broiled tilapia
Broiled redfish
Combination seafood platter
Baklava
Ashta (phyllo filled with cream cheese)
Tiramisu
Chocolate cake
FOR BEST RESULTS
The portions are very large, and unless you're splitting dishes there is no real need to order more than an entree platter. A meal of appetizers is an attractive possibility.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
It's hard to say what makes it this way, but I find the food here dull. The ingredients are of good quality and everything comes out hot, but I usually register disappointment in the flavor.
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 +1
- Wine and Bar
- Hipness
- Local Color +1
SPECIAL ATTRIBUTES
- Good for business meetings
- Medium private room
- Open Sunday lunch and dinner
- Open Monday lunch and dinner
- Open all afternoon
- Unusually large servings
- Quick, good meal
- Good for children
- Easy, nearby parking
- Reservations accepted
Hummus
My wife says that I make the best hummus she ever tasted. She is always right. So. . .
Although most cookbooks say you should use dried chickpeas (picked, washed, and simmered as for red beans), the ones written by Lebanese authors and the chefs I know all say to use canned. One other tip: use more lemon juice than you might think right.
- 4 large cloves garlic
- 1/4 tsp. salt
- 1 can chickpeas (garbanzo beans)
- 3 Tbs. fresh, strained lemon juice
- 2 Tbs. extra-virgin olive oil
- 1/2 tsp. Louisiana hot sauce
- 7 Tbs. tahini (in the ethnic food section of any supermarket)
- Paprika or sumac (can be found in Middle Eastern grocery sections)
1. Put the garlic cloves and the salt into a food processor and process until chopped finely. Add a tablespoon of water, scrape down the sides of the processor, and run it again to almost produce a paste (you won't quite, but it will be close enough).
2. Drain all the liquid from chickpeas, and rinse them with fresh water. Add the chickpeas, the lemon juice, hot sauce, and olive oil to the food processor. Run until the mixture is smooth. Add 1/4 cup of water, and process for another minute or so.
3. Scoop the mixture into a bowl. Add the tahini and mix in with a whisk. Taste the mixture and add more tahini, hot sauce, or salt to taste.
4. Spoon the hummus onto a large platter, working the pile out towards the edges, leaving a rim at the edge like that of a pizza crust.
5. Pour a thin stream of the extra-virgin olive oil around the top of the hummus. Dust the top lightly with the paprika or sumac.
Serve with pita bread, toasted and cut into six slices.
Serves eight.
