Friday, August 27, 2010
1111 Restaurants Open Around Town
Coolinary And Other Special Summer Menus Now In Play
I am constantly being asked where one may grab something to eat before events at the Superdome. (And I believe there's something or other going on there tonight.) The problems is that there are almost no places to eat within easy walking distance of the stadium. The Dome's management has come up with a good solution to this. The bridge from the Superdome to Benson Tower (formerly New Orleans Centre) is hosting a festival-like array of restaurants cooking and serving real food. This isn't the stuff from the Superdome's miserable food service outfit, but actual restaurants whose names you would know. Here's this week's list:
Acme Oyster House
Chicken and Sausage Gumbo
Shrimp Poor Boy
Bourbon House
Bourbon BBQ Shrimp Poor Boy
Drago’s Seafood Restaurant
Seafood Pasta
Spinach Risotto with Tasso and Shrimp
Galatoire’s
Shrimp Remoulade
Duck and Andouille Gumbo
Dickie Brennan’s Steakhouse
Prime Rib Cheesesteak
Outback Steakhouse
Hamburger and French Fries
Praline Connection
Ham and Sausage Jambalaya with Fried Catfish
Red Beans and Rice with Fried Catfish
Red Fish Grill
Shrimp and Grits
Shrimp and Corn Beignets
WOW Café And Wingery
Wings and Chicken Fingers
These eats will not be sold at festival prices, make no mistake. Most items are $8, with a few at $9. But it's better than what's inside the Superdome, that's for sure. I'd like to read some reports about this on our web messageboard: http://www.nomenu.com/talkfood.
Uh-oh. Watch out. Here comes another trend: crawls. I told you about the tapas crawl in the Riverbend this past Wednesday. Now here's another one already, featuring Abita Beer and appetizers. This Saturday, August 28, at 4:30 p.m., participants will meet at 7 On Fulton (700 Fulton) and get some nibbles and Abita Amber. An hour later, they'll move on to Grand Isle (a block away), then to Ruth's Chris (a half-block), and end up at the Ernst Cafe (across the street from Grand Isle). Each stop will have its own style of food and a different style of Abita Beer. Here's the whole menu:
7 on Fulton--4:30-5:30 p.m.
Abita Beer Glazed BBQ Shrimp & Pancetta Paste
Beer: Abita Amber
Grand Isle--5:30-6:30 p.m.
Seafood Ceviche
Beer: Abita Satsuma Wit
Ruth Chris--6:30-7:30 p.m.
Abita Turbodog Marinated Steak Sliders
Beer: Abita Turbodog
Ernst Cafe--7:30-8:30 p.m.
Pulled Pork Sandwich and Chorizo Jambalaya
Beer: Abita Jockamo India Pale Ale
The price for the whole package is $40. You can get tickets here. They're limiting the attendance to two hundred people. Limiting? Is a mob 200 strong really going to move en masse to these restaurants? And an hour in each place? A four-hour evening? Maybe I'm not hip enough to see the potential pleasure in this, but this sounds to me like it needs a little streamlining. But it's the first time, and we'll see.
Look for many more crawls for different eats and drinks around town as this new vogue expands.
All 30 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.
Saturday, August 21. She's Leaving Home, Bye-Bye. Byblos At Tulane. Martini Maker. Mary Leigh ended her last regularly-scheduled night of sleep in her bedroom at the Cool Water Ranch at six in the morning. She got right to work, eagerly loaded the car with her stuff. By the time Mary Ann was awake, most everything was out there, and it was clear that it all would fit into the Pilot--as long as I didn't travel with the girls in that vehicle. This was actually a relief. It was looking as if we'd need all three cars to carry the load.
The girls backed down the driveway, then stopped. Mary Leigh jumped out to retrieve something from her Audi. The car will be left behind. Resident freshmen may not keep cars at Tulane. MA saw a funny look on ML's face as she walked back. MA got out of her car to see why our daughter was crying. ML jumped into her mom's hug, and they rocked that way for a minute or two.
This was the first upwelling of emotion that managed to erupt during our daughter's full-speed-ahead move into her new life. She's leaving behind the only home she's ever lived in, and with it the dog, the trees, her hundreds of stuffed animals, and her parents.
I'm not entirely sure, but I don't think the separation from any of these was what upset ML now. It was the Audi. Mary Ann said that I should travel with her, so Mary Leigh would drive her cherished automobile one last time to her new life. She looked much brighter when she climbed into her car, turned up her music, and headed south.
Mary Ann's parking voodoo found a spot just outside the campus, about a block away from ML's dorm. I realized that my small hand truck--which I was planning to use to lug all ML's stuff into the dorm--was back in my car at home. The switch in cars made it necessary to carry the hundreds of pounds of stuff by hand. One suitcase weighed, I am sure, a hundred pounds all by itself.
The delivery required seven round trips for the two of us. (Mary Leigh was too busy arranging everything where it went to do any lugging.) The distance from the car to the room was about two blocks, plus a five-story ride on a slow elevator. As it always is on days after a tropical storm passes, it was unbearably hot and humid.
Did I mention that I woke up this morning with a bad flare-up of the gout?
We finished the moving at around eleven. I had a radio show downtown at noon. Mary Ann and I left ML and her roommate (a classmate from McGehee), and walked (limped, in my case) across the quad to the University Center. It has a food court, with Quizno's, Baja, Panda Express, Einstein Brothers Bagels, and Byblos. Byblos was clearly the place to go. It was like their delis on Veterans Highway and in Lakeside Mall, with one important difference: the food wasn't very good. A platter of chicken shawarma had the texture of frozen and badly thawed. Where was the great garlic sauce of the Byblos Market? Inedible tabbouleh. It must be the curse of captive clientele.
After lunch, I had no time to get wistful. The girls were occupied in designing the dorm room. I waved good-bye and drove the Audi to the radio station. There Dave Potter--the producer on duty for my show--told me that he had also moved his daughter into Tulane's dorms this morning. There really are only five hundred people living in New Orleans.
The show finished, I just went home. I felt a little guilty about leaving my daughter behind. But I knew she didn't want me or Mary Ann there. I was happy to see Mary Ann already home before I was, for the same reason. Our roles in our daughter's life have suddenly been reduced by eighty percent. It felt funny.
Fortunately, we had something to keep us from thinking about this too much. George and Margo Bragg invited us over for cocktails. The other guests were all family. Margo said that Mary Ann had been so sympathetic and in touch after the Braggs' son Ben died last year that she thought of us as family. The feeling is mutual. Ben was one of the core members of the Boy Scout unit in which Jude and I had ten fantastic years. All the boys and their parents became close friends, and we remain so.
George asked me what I wanted to drink. A martini would be perfect, I said. "Great! All the stuff is over there on the counter. You can probably make it better than I can. Help yourself!" I did, and when I shook the shaker, the sound grabbed the attention of everyone in the room. Several guests drifted over and asked if I could whip up a few extra martinis in my next batch. I made many martinis and struck up as many conversations.
One of the people in the room turned out to be a key person in Tulane's financial aid office. We have been talking with this man a lot lately. Again I tell you: only five hundred people live in New Orleans.
One of Margo's friends made the food. Perfect eats for such a party. My favorite item: pinwheels of puff pastry with mushrooms and onions between the layers. I will try my hand at making those next time we have a party.
"Their house is stunning," said Mary Ann when we left for home. "I wonder why ours doesn't look as good as that."
"Because our priorities are elsewhere," I said.
Sunday, August 22. Jazz Brunch At ML's Place. A New Book, Page One. Zea's Ribeye. We went back across the lake on this Sunday morning because a) Mary Leigh forgot a few things for her new dorm room at Tulane; 2) we needed to bring her new bicycle over (there had been no room for it in yesterday's haul), and iii) a jazz brunch was being served in the residents' dining hall for new students and their parents.
After we registered the bike and locked it up on the rack outside, we made our way to Bruff Commons for the brunch. It was a buffet, managed by Bruff's food service contractor Sodexo. That's a French company that bought into the American market by merging with Marriott's food service arm, Dobbs House. Dobbs House was one of the early providers of food on airliners. What does that tell you?
Nevertheless, the brunch was reasonably decent. They had grillades and grits, for one thing. And some spicy meat pies so good that Mary Ann's mind began working on a plan by which Mary Leigh could smuggle a meat pie or two to her room every day, and MA would pick them up once a week for her own eating pleasure. (ML would have no part of that scheme.) The eggs and bacon and waffles and such were hotel-quality.
They really did have a jazz trio. On a trip for more mediocre coffee, I spoke with the musicians, who were on a break. They all knew who I was, and we had enough of a conversation that I asked them to let me sing "Sweet Lorraine" with them. I acquitted myself reasonably well, but that was still too much for Mary Leigh, who left the dining hall in mid-song. Parents are so embarrassing. But I doubt any of the students knew I was her dad. And what's one more old guy giving forth ancient jazz anyway?
We reconvened in the dorm room. The girls have made it up nicely. ML was having trouble connecting her printer to her computer. That's something I could have helped if I had any idea how Mac computers work. But I'm just a fossil.
The college girls were clearly itching for us to leave. So we did. En route home, the emotions that I knew would be triggered by this major milepost in our family's history finally emerged. It felt a lot like the way I feel while driving home from my retreats at Manresa. That's such a joyous place that, even though I leave it full of inspirations for my life, a feeling of freefall fills my chest. It also felt like coming to the end of an exceptionally enjoyable book, and know that you must now pick up a different book.
Our final child has relinquished her integral connection with our lives. And she has not done so gingerly, but flown away gloriously and fearlessly. I am so happy for her. Mary Ann and I can rightly take pride (and thank our good luck) in having raised such children. But now what will we do? What's our goal? Other than raising the annual fortune these tuitions amount to, I mean?
At home, I got back to work for a few hours, then we went to dinner at Zea. Mary Ann wasn't really hungry, but I was able to tempt her with half of an entree that would be too much for me after the tuna sashimi stack. (That's what I really came here for.) Zea has a rotisserie ribeye that I don't remember seeing on its menu before. (It probably has been there all along.) It sounded good, and Mary Ann is a buff for roast prime rib of beef. As I expected, it had the soft, juicy interior of that cut. But they finish it on the grill, so the exterior was like that of a ribeye steak. Sides of roasted potatoes (those have changed, and not for the better) and red beans completed a very ample meal.
Near the end of it, Dr. Doug Swift happened by. He and his wife Karen are good friends, their son having been at Jesuit the same time as Jude was. He's attending a meeting on the North Shore. We tried to arrange dinner with the Swifts tomorrow, but the logistics wouldn't work out. Another time.
The two of us returned to our quiet house. That's it, all right. Just the two of us, from now on.
Zea. Covington: 110 Lake Dr . 985-327-0520. Eclectic.
Click here for the Dining Diary entry before the ones above.
Click here for an index to the last five years of entries.
French.
Uptown: 3637 Magazine. 504-895-1636. Map.
Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Saturday.
Nice Casual
AE DS MC V
Website
WHY IT'S NOTEWORTHY
In a time when the city is full of French bistros, this one is unique. The menu is unlike any other hereabouts, using offbeat ingredients in polished recipes. The many regular customers give the place a clubby feeling, without excluding newcomers.
WHY IT'S GOOD
The kitchen pursues an imaginative, New Orleans-tinged approach to French country cooking. Chef John Harris breaks away from the typical dishes and offers more exotic things--in every sense of the word. Lots of the raw materials--including about half the seafood--comes from far away. That alone gives the menu distinction. The daily specials are numerous and deserve priority attention before you peruse the printed card.
BACKSTORY
Harris spent some time in France in between gigs at Bayona and Gautreau's (he was executive chef at the latter), and picked up the inspiration for Lilette there. He was on the cover of Food and Wine Magazine in 2002 as one of the hot new chefs of the year.
DINING ROOM
The building is a fine old Magazine Street store, with high ceilings and many windows. The airy, loose feeling in the single large dining room makes the restaurant seem bigger than it is. The specials are written on a chalkboard above a few banquettes; both touches lend a convincing French bistro ambiance.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
Starters:
Hanger steak tartare
Raw fish of the day
Grilled beets with goat cheese and walnuts
Alaskan king crab claws with passionfruit butter
White truffle parmigiano toast with wild mushrooms, marrow and veal glace
Duck confit with arugula and Banyuls vinaigrette
Steamed mussels with red wine and cream
Sizzling shrimp with lemon oregano vinaigrette
Sweet fried beef short ribs
Potato gnocchi with sage brown butter
Boudin noir
Escargots with mushrooms and Calvados cream
Spanish Anchovies with stewed onions
Eggplant crisps with skordalia and olives
Artisinal cheese plate
Littleneck clam chowder
Chicken broth with leeks, tomato, soft poached egg
Raw salad of Brussels sprouts, beets, fennel, Banyuls vinaigrette
Braised veal cheeks with baby greens
Hearts of palm with lemon
Mains:
Roasted chicken breast with Brussels sprouts,
mushroom vinaigrette
Grilled hanger steak with fries and marrow bordelaise
Muscovy duck breast with satsuma coriander jus
Fried Kurobuta pork belly
Braciola with creamy polenta
Bouillabaisse
Paneed black drum, verjus mussel butter
Grilled Hawaiian spearfish, satsuma-basil butter
Desserts:
Nutella custard with caramel cream and chocolate-hazelnut brittle
Quenelles of goat cheese, crème fraiche, pears, pistachios, lavender honey
Mascarpone panna cotta with strawberry sorbet
Chocolate brioche bread pudding, orange caramel
Prosecco float with blood orange sorbet
Ice cream trio and cookies du jour
Sorbet
Cheese plate
FOR BEST RESULTS
This is an unusually good place to try dishes and foods you never heard of or tried before. Plenty of them are here, and the kitchen's skills insure a polished version of whatever catches your eye.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
The tables are too close together. For a restaurant with such obvious innovative abilities, the regular menu is surprisingly steady.
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 +2
- Service +1
- Value
- Attitude
- Wine and Bar +2
- Hipness +2
- Local Color +2
SPECIAL ATTRIBUTES
- Romantic
- Small private room
- Easy, nearby parking
- Reservations honored promptly
Bananas Foster
This creation of Brennan's is found in fancy restaurants across New Orleans, and far beyond. Chef Paul Blange developed it because the Brennans had close friends in the banana business. It was named for Richard Foster, the owner of an awning company and a Brennan's regular. Although the dessert is classically prepared and flamed at the table, there's no reason it can't be done in the kitchen. This is one flaming dessert in which the flavor is much better than the show. My recipe is influenced by the way they do it at Arnaud's, which puts out the most exciting version.
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 4 Tbs. butter
- 4 ripe bananas
- 1 oz. banana liqueur (optional)
- 1 tsp. cinnamon
- 4 oz. dark rum (80 proof maximum)
- 4 large scoops vanilla ice cream
1. Melt sugar and butter over medium heat in a large flat pan, stirring frequently.
2. Peel the bananas and slice them in quarters--first lengthwise, then across.
3. When the sugar and butter have melted together and begun to bubble, add the bananas and sauté until tender. Add banana liqueur and sprinkle with cinnamon
4. Add the rum and touch off a flame in the pan (if you like, and if you're prepared for the possibility of a flare-up). Carefully spoon sauce over bananas until flame burns out.
5. Serve immediately over ice cream with lots of sauce.
Serves four.
