Fish Fridays - Master Shucker

For 36 years these hands have held the keys to our local waters' greatest treasure. The journey began in 1974, when Michael "Hollywood" Broadway strolled past the Desire Oyster Bar on his way home from his shift as a dishwasher at the Court of Two Sisters. "I peeked inside Desire and saw the shuckers joking and talking to the customers. It looked like fun." But after taking a job as a busboy at Desire, the current shuckers were not so keen on mentoring a protege. "I asked the guy to teach me, but he told me that I would have to pay him. So I taught myself, and then after a few weeks I took his job."

After breaking into the trade at Desire, Hollywood moved to the Hilton Hotel where in 1978 he shucked oysters for Muhammed Ali just a few weeks before he went down to Leon Spinks. A few years later he moved to the Acme Oyster House on Iberville, where he has been a fixture behind the bar for the past 28 years.

His technique for shucking is characterized by more finesse than brute force. After grabbing an air-tight oyster - which ensures both freshness and a reservoir of salty liquor inside - his knife enters the hinge while the weight of his body presses down on top of the shell. "You pry, not push," are his words of wisdom. While rocking his knife back and forth, he scrapes the oyster from it's shell, allows the excess liquor to wash away any of the residual dirt inside, and swipes it clean with the blade before placing it high side out on the tray. He can shuck a dozen oysters in just over 60 seconds.

Hollywood has passed down his tried and true technique to a countless number of oyster shuckers. First, to his co-workers at Desire - including a gentleman named Gus, who has been behind the bar at Desire for 34 years - and now to a whole new generation at Acme via his post as Personal Trainer. He was named to Gourmet's 50 Best Chefs and serves as a member of the Louisiana Oyster Task Force.

True to his profession, Hollywood loves oysters but only eats them raw with just a squeeze of lemon and a touch of Tabasco. He lets his hands do the cooking.

Blackened Out Gets Invited to a Party

The invitation arrived not only by snail mail but also by web enabled mail. It said: "Please join us for a Grand Fete celebrating the opening of Cochon BUTCHER and Calcasieu." After confirming with Peter that this was not a joke, we hired a Frog to translate Grand Fete for us. Then we fasted for a good 4 hours before the party.

The party was divided into two spaces. The upstairs Calcasieu, a private event space, is a brick walled oasis to partying with class. There was a Methuselah of Bourdeaux, oysters, whole pigs, and fur coats. In the BUTCHER shop downstairs, sandwiches, salamis, and olives passed around the room in a more casual vibe. Both areas were rad (to use the popular parlance of our time). The party grossed thirty-five people shy of the House of Representatives. We will start with downstairs.

This full-frontal nudity shot of the Salami case will make your heart sing, if you like that sort of thing. You see those two whole leg hams? Peter called dibs on the one on the left. Yeah, the whole thing.
A side view. Does that not look like the Divine Light of Heaven? Or it could be a spot on the lens.

An up close view of the Salamis hanging in a temperature controlled, humidity regulated environment. I asked to spend the night in the case to see if it would cause me to age gracefully, but management handed me a cupcake instead.

Look at the cayenne infused Andouille. It is as big around as as a baseball bat. Each one of those batons weighs about 2 pounds.

Ahhh, oysters. They were shucked by the pros from ACME Oyster House. They shocked the senses with the cold, explosive flavor of the sea. A lot like being thrown into the ocean with a pair of cement shoes.

We have no idea how this lucky S.O.B. got the job of carving a pig as succulent and perfect as this beast, but next year we are definitely working on our essay skills.

I've kissed a lot of pigs in my life but none of them were this pretty.

All photos courtesy of The Folk Singer.

Ersters

Peter and I give instructions on how to dine at Casamento's in this month's offBEAT. Also pick up a copy of the magazine or get a subscription if you live elsewhere to read our look at the Old Broads from Broad Street. Peter did most of the heavy lifting on this article and so far the results have been positive. Here is another article to make you feel good about living here. If you don't live here, this may make you move here.

The Old Broads are a collection of broads who worked at the Ruth's Chris on Broad Street for many years. Some of them bounced around to other Ruth's following Hurricane Katrina and many of them (including, cooks, dishwashers, and the general manager) returned to the new location in May.

Now back to the subject at hand, the enviable mollusk known by the name Oyster. Believe it or not, I used to never eat seafood. Never. Would not touch it. However, since moving back a few years ago, the addictive qualities of seafood make it harder and harder to say no.

Over the weekend I had some oysters at Felix's. While the oysters were good, the rest of the meal just did not pan out. So in honor of month's that have an R in them, here is our Official Blackened Out Rating of Oyster Bars. This rating takes into account not only the bivalves themselves, but also the ambiance, the shucker, and other food options. Here is a pic of an erster from Casamento's. Look at this beauty.


Eagle: Casamento's
Birdie: Luke, Bozo's, Grand Isle, and Pascal's Manale
Par: Acme, Cooter Browns
Bogey: Felix's, Bourbon House
Double Bogey: Unless it makes you sick, there is no oyster bar bad enough to warrant the dreaded double bogey.

Monday, Monday

"Every other day, every other day,

Every other day of the week is fine, yeah

But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes

You can find me cryin' all of the time."

I always find this song playing in my head on a Monday after a Saints loss.  I have a strong belief in the truth of the rumor that productivity in New Orleans on the Monday after a Saints loss is markedly decreased.  Some people might say that we have misplaced priorities.  We call it passion for our city and for our team.

But thankfully, Monday always calls for one of my favorite meals (no matter if the Saints win or lose): red beans and rice.  It's a dish so delicious yet so simple to make that it seems ludicrous to order them when dining out.  Still, some places cook them better than others, and it's usually the neighborhood joints that do them best.  Here are a few of my favorite spots to get a plate of these delicious legumes:

1. Dunbar's - Now comes complete with a JD from Loyola.
2. Mandina's - The only day that they serve them is Monday.
3. Acme Oyster House - Sure, they don't make them in house (I am pretty sure they get them from this guy), but that doesn't make them any less savory.
   
4. Ignatius Grocery - I just wish that they would put ice in their drinks.
5. Liuzza's - And a Fat Kid Special?

Note: I hear that EAT also has great red beans; but they ain't open on Mondays, and I refuse to order red beans at a restaurant on any other day except Monday.