The Pelican Club

Christmas connotes different traditions for everyone. For the last several years, the season has marked my annual visit to The Pelican Club for their Reveillon Dinner. There is just something about the stroll down Exchange Alley on a cold night, then ducking into this well hidden (but expansive) restaurant with walls adorned with paintings borrowed from Michalopoulos next door. When making reservations, I suggest you request the main dining room fronting Bienville, lest you get seated in the middle room at a banquette cramped between two tables of obnoxious law students who preface every comment with, "Well, in law school...."

But that's another post for another time.

The meal starts with a potage of your choice, and I am sad to say that my turtle soup was pitifully bland. Thankfully this was the only disappointing course of the night. The Folk Singer, who opted for a la carte service instead of the full blown Reveillon menu, began her dinner with crab and cauliflower ravioli in a mushroom and green peppercorn cream sauce. She defended her plate as if it were the Alamo, but the minuscule bite that I stole was still enough evidence for me to affirm her selfishness. My second course was the above pictured quail over stilton grits and ladled with a sautte of shitakes and foie gras in marsala wine. The flavor of the cheese was not prominent in the grits, but this misstep quickly faded into the background once I sampled the tender bird coupled with the slightly sweet and rich sauce.

A quick sidenote before we move on: I was borderline angry that the goat cheese salad was absent from the menu on our visit. The creamy olive oil dressing which coats those greens is downright addictive. I hope it makes a return appearance next year. Moving on.

For the main event, TFS had the seared tuna salad. Out of place? Perhaps. But unmistakably delicious, due in no small part to the sashimi grade tuna which was better than what I have eaten in any sushi bar over the past year. For me, the Trio of Duckling, which looking back now is a surprise because the online menu lists the Duck Two Ways. No matter. The trifecta de canard included a pan seared breast, confit of leg quarter, and BBQ duck in the style of Texas BBQ beef. In order of goodness I would rank the confit first, followed by the breast, and then the BBQ duck, whose flavor was lost in the overpowering tomato base of the sauce.

Dessert was an exquisite white and dark chocolate bread pudding with Makers Mark eggnog sauce.

The Pelican Club is probably the most forgotten restaurant in the French Quarter. You can conduct your own experiment by telling someone that you are going there for dinner, and I can almost guarantee that the response will be, "Oh, I love The Pelican Club. But I have not been there in years, and we never think to go there."

Here is your reminder.

The Pelican Club - Birdie.