Porchetta James

With the weather cooler and a new baby keeping us close to home, my kitchen has gotten plenty of attention. Afternoons are spent simmering stock, making hearty soups, or on a recent weekend rolling a boned out pork butt in two pounds of skin on pork belly, tying it, and roasting it.

The basic recipe comes from the kitchen of a Mano and if you have a few moments this holiday season, you might find this the perfect replacement to a prime rib or turkey. I served this on a Sunday for a lazy brunch with a salad of shaved brussel sprouts and a poached egg. Imagine an Italian version of salade lyonnaise, that is a pretty sexy image.

Porchetta

2 pound skin on pork belly (Check with Bill Ryals at the Crescent City Farmer's Market)
3 pounds of pork butt, boned and butterflied
The zest of 2 Satsumas
2 tablespoons of fennel seed
2 tablespoons of chili flake
2 tablespoons of kosher salt
1 tablespoon of black pepper
1 head of roasted garlic
Baking Powder

Toast the fennel. In a mortar and pestle, add the toasted fennel seed and crush. Add this to the chili flake, salt, and satsuma zest. Mix to combine.

Lay on a clean surface, your pork belly skin side down. On the flesh side, spread a layer of your spice rub and rub in to the meat. Lay your pork butt on top of the pork belly and season it with a layer of the spice mixture.

Down the center of the pork butt, lay as many cloves of roasted garlic as you like. Tightly roll up the pork belly and butt and truss. Some of the butt will peek out the ends of the porchetta. Feel free to trim it up or leave it. Your call. Now take a tablespoon of baking powder and mix this with an additional tablespoon of kosher salt. Sprinkle this over the skin of the pork belly, it will help it crisp.

Now park this beautiful roll of deliciousness in the fridge overnight, covered. Remove the pork from the oven for about an hour before tossing into a preheated 375 degree oven for four hours. After four hours, remove from the oven, and crank it to broil. Let the pork rest for 15 minutes or so. Add back to the oven and watch carefully for the skin to puff and crisp.

Slice into rounds and place on top of the salad of your choice. Add a poached egg and let bacon and eggs become immortal.

The Making of a Restaurateur

Grilled sweetbreads at La Boca. Whipped lardo bruschetta at a Mano. Pizza Napoletano from Ancora. Spicy seared catfish and braised greens at the High Hat Cafe.

What do they have in common? Adolfo Garcia.

In the cover story of this month's OffBeat Magazine, Rene tells the story of the New Orleans born chef who now finds himself at the helm of a budding restaurant empire. Follow along as Chef Adolfo describes his lifelong journey, from the childhood memory of a roadside fish stand which served as the inspiration of Rio Mar to the recent sale of his interest in Rio Mar. There are tales of serving up sopapillas at Pancho's, narrowly avoiding law school, and service industry infidelity.

You know about the food. Now learn more about the man.

Hittin' the High Hat

High Hat Delta tamales.

The neighborhood restaurant has undergone a partial transformation over the past 7 years. While the stalwarts like Mandina's, Liuzza's, and Mr. Ed's have chugged along with the same menus that they have been serving for 30 years, a new crop of  neighborhood restaurants has shunned the conventional wisdom that everyday eatery is required to serve familiar, everyday food.

High Hat evokes the feel of a meat and three diner which could be found in any small town stretching from Yazoo City, Mississippi to Walhalla, South Carolina. The tile floor and baby blue counter tops hearken the 50s era, and the staff's casual convivial demeanor (led by co-owner Chip Apperson, who is often working the floor) fits the decor. On occasion the retro atmosphere can feel aged compared to the high energy at Ancora next door, which tends toward a younger crowd. But the appearance of David Chang, Wylie Dufresne, and Eric Ripert last November earned High Hat the hipster-food-nerd seal of approval, which can almost never be lost.

Pimento cheese.

The menu seems simple and straightforward enough. High Hat is where the cooking of the Mississippi Delta intersects with New Orleans most famous dishes, where pimento cheese and fried catfish share table space with chicken gumbo ya-ya and BBQ shrimp. But upon deeper examination, you soon realize that something more is going on here.

What can you tell about a restaurant from the pickles they serve? In High Hat's case, quite a lot. There are thinly sliced cucumbers, cured in a bread and butter style whose sweetness is counteracted with a serious jolt of heat. Whole okra retain remarkable crispness, as do the thick slices of green tomato. That the kitchen pays so much attention to a meal component as mundane as the pickle - and that this results in a pickle worthy of an entire paragraph in this write up - is an indication that High Hat is not your mama's neighborhood restaurant.

The whole lot of pickles is served in an $8 appetizer medley along with pimento cheese whose texture reminds me of Southern cheese straw without the flour. Deviled ham is a spreadable pork product which weirds me out for some strange reason, especially considering how much I love deviled eggs (High Hat's included). Pulled pork filled tamales are light in texture and slightly spicy in flavor and served with an oily, slightly sweet dipping sauce made of pork drippings. Don't overlook the supersized boudin cake served with stone ground mustard and, of course, more pickles.

Most come for the fried catfish, and the thinly coated cornmeal crusted fillets - whose size falls directly in between the "thick" and "thin" categories - are probably the best available this side of Pass Manchac. In my opinion, the enhanced flavor from leaving the fish on the bone did not outweigh the difficulty of eating the whole fried catfish because of lack of space to work with both in the serving baskets and on High Hat's smallish 4 top tables. The fried fish baskets are completed with stringy cole slaw (an afterthought), hush puppies (which fill their role), and fresh cut fries (which are elevated to ambrosia when covered with pimento cheese and blasted through the salamander).

Spicy seared gulf fish with shrimp and potato hash.

Fresh Gulf fish ($15.50) seared on the flat top was cooked perfectly but did not live up to its "spicy" modifier - a problem quickly solved with a few dashes of hot sauce and spicy vinegar. The accompanying shrimp and potato hash was simple but good, with both elements having a firm, slightly crisp texture. On past visits the fish was plated atop rich, creamy grits which are worthy as an a la carte selection, as are the braised greens tinged with vinegar for a nice sour note. For carnivores, the slow roasted pork makes for a meal either as a massive hunk on a plate or shredded debris style in a po-boy.

On the specials board is where the kitchen reaches beyond the familiar confines of the menu. You may see seasonal salads combining strawberries and radish in the spring or watermelon, crabmeat, and horseradish in the summer. Or a rotating list of pies such as key lime or a salty peanut with a brownie bottom. But the best special in the house is served in a glass.

One of the bartenders at High Hat makes the most delicious tonic. According to Chef Jared Ralls, who keeps a stash of the tonic behind the bar at La Boca, the tonic is made the old fashioned way from the bark of the cinchona tree, which gives this tonic its purplish pink hue. Mixed with a generous pour of Hendrick's, this is the best gin and tonic that I have ever tasted, and it pairs extremely well with pimento cheese fries.

High Hat Cafe - Birdie
4500 Freret Street
(504) 754-1336
Open Daily 11am - 9pm, Fri & Sat till 10pm.

Ending The Year For a Great Cause

After almost an entire year of failing to live up to your expectations, we are taking a breather this week to relax, recharge, and rush to meet our billable hour requirements. But before we bid farewell to 2011, we want to spread the word about a special event on Friday.

Those of us who are fans of the lunch time tapas menu at Rio Mar probably know Lorie Gandy by face but not by name. Since 2004 Lorie has been the one woman orchestra during every lunch shift at Rio Mar, cranking out plates of blistering morcilla, crispy patatas bravas, and crusty pressed sandwiches filled with jamon and manchego. More recently, Lorie could be found at local markets dishing out cochon de lait po-boys and other fare at a booth sponsored by her Bon Vivant Catering venture.

Last week during lunch at Rio Mar I was surprised to see Nic Bazan, co-owner of Rio Mar and a man of many talents, dressed in his chef whites and working the line. After our table finished a delicious meal (which was punctuated by the absolute best tasting flan that has ever touched my lips), I asked Nic why he was wearing a different hat on this particular day.

It was then that I learned that Lorie was in Houston after an overnight trip was extended indefinitely when she unexpectedly delivered twin boys, Knox and Gabriel, 3 months before her due date. Lorie and her husband Will have been in Houston since then, caring for their boys who are under 24 hour watch at Women's Hospital of Texas and will likely stay there until mid March at the earliest. Once Knox and Gabe are healthy enough for travel, the family plan on making the drive back home to New Orleans.

During lunch on Friday December 30th, the Rio Mar family is throwing a tapas fundraiser to support and assist the Gandy family. Joining the cause will be Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing from MiLa. The cost is $40 per person (which covers tapas and tax), and although there is no specific menu, you can be sure that these chefs will be feeding you well and that no one will leave hungry. Alcohol will be sold separately, and only cash and checks will be accepted.

Most of us were fortunate enough to spend this holiday season at home surrounded by our family and friends. Let's all do as much as we can to ensure that next year the Gandy family will get to do the same.

a Mano

Trio of Bruschetta

Ancora and High Hat may have been the most talked about restaurants in Adolfo Garcia's empire this year, but I have to say that my favorite meal of the year in the Adolfo empire came from a Mano. That's quite the sleeper pick coming from a guy who has been known to eat at La Boca twice in one week. Even more surprising (to me at least) is that I have never written extensively about a Mano, despite the fact that I have eaten there 6 times since the restaurant opened in October 2009. Better late than never.

A meal at a Mano might cause even the most staunch advocate of "New Orleans Italian" cuisine to swear off red gravy forever. I am being hyperbolic, of course, but like the Brothers Grimm, such an illustrative tale is indicative of how the kitchen at a Mano serves as a tour guide through regional Italian cuisine. Those fans of Domenica have been on this journey before, and both restaurants deserve credit for broadening our horizons beyond veal marsala, fettucini alfredo, and spaghetti marinara. (All dishes which have their place in our local dining scene.) Even though my personal travel experience in Italy is limited to the Cinque Terre, after every meal at a Mano I feel as though I have already tasted my through Emilia-Romagna, Umbira, and Puglia - places which I have only heard about through reruns of Molto Mario.

Meals begin with a complimentary basket of focaccia sprinkled with coarse sea salt and accompanied by olive oil poured into a small dish anchored by a few olives, herbs, and a clove of garlic. Olive fanatics can get an enormous jar of salty orbs too large for one person to eat by himself (no matter how hard I tried). A bottle of wine from the all Italian list, which has great depth and value with plenty of bottles in the $30-$50 range, and I could be content with ending the meal at that point.

But then I would be missing out on the trio of bruschetta, whose selections rotate with the seasons. The above pictured trio featured (from foreground to background): ciccioli (or scraps of leftover pig fat) accented with the sweetness of cherries, whipped lardo which was the equivalent of pork butter, and spicy ‘nduja with red pepper whose heat was not in the forefront but instead lingered on the tongue. Lovers of the art of cured meats can sample Kris Doll's prosciutto tasting ($18) or carpaccio ($60, a half dozen wide, thin slices of Wagyu beef dressed with a spicy giardiniera of sliced carrots and long string beans.

Pasta courses are small but priced accordingly. Gnudi are rich ricotta dumplings dressed simply with sage and brown butter. Spaghetti carbonara is smoky with chunks of pancetta. Hollow buccatini Amatriciana are tossed in a spicy tomato sauce loaded with guanciale. All of the pastas, save the gnudi, are firm and the sauces restrained to achieve balance; the sauce is as equally as important as the noodle, and vice versa.


Gnocchi with Oxtail Ragu.

A table of four would be advised to share courses throughout the meal, so as to cover as much territory on the menu as possible. Which is how a daily special of braised veal cheeks arrived at my table one night, the long, slow cooking process resulting in a dish that was lip-smackingly tender without crossing the line into mush. Oxtail ragu with an incredible depth of flavor is paired with gnocchi of lineage I had never seen before, the three large triangular pillows were crisped in a pan, almost like polenta cakes but made with potato dough.

The menu is in constant flux such that the exact same dish might not reappear on your next visit (for example, the aforementioned ragu might be made with goat and the gnudi swapped for orecchiette). Thankfully, the caponata is always available in some form or fashion, because it's presence on my table has become required ever since I became hooked on the sweet/tart/crunchy combination of eggplant, tomatoes, raisins, and pine nuts. Just another delicious stop along my travels through Italy via the Warehouse District.

a Mano - Birdie
870 Tchoupitoulas Street
(504) 908-9280
Mon-Sat 6:00-10:00pm; Fri11:30am-2:00pm

Talking with Talbot

Jeffrey Talbot grew up in Venton, Louisiana, just outside of Lake Charles. From there, he worked in high end  kitchens in Florida, Pennsylvania, Louisiana, Europe and California. But he left all that behind a few years ago to focus on a side job that became a passion: pizza. Quiet and monkish, Talbot is well-versed in the profanity laced patois of the kitchen. Let's put twentyish questions on the clock and get to know the pizza monk who tends the oven at Ancora. All photos courtesy of the new staff photog here, Renee "Peanut" Bienvenu.

Cooking is the only thing I can do. After high school I moved to Florida for a few months where my cousin was running a restaurant. Worked there for a few months and then went to Philadelphia to work with Tony Clark.

I worked for John Besh at Artesia, then he sent me to Europe for a year and three months. Came back and opened August. Always had in my mind that I wanted to work in three star Michelin type places. So left for California, where I worked at Cyrus. While I was at Cyrus, we started a bread program. That is when I began my starter, which is now six year's old. Was there for three months and became sous chef.

I kind of fell out of love with cooking. My mom had had a few strokes and so I moved back home and built a pizza oven in the backyard.

The pizza obsession is one of those things that my family didn't really understand. I first ate really great pizza when I was out in California and it was done perfectly. That pizza was an emotional experience. I wanted to take the craft I had learned in great restaurants and put that style of food into pizza. In a way you become more creative by limiting what it is you are doing.

I love making bread. We do three things here: cured meats, bread, and pizza. To me pizza is bread. But the actual bread we do here is pretty fun to make. Bread making is a very meditative process that requires focus to get the shape and texture we want. We don't use any commercial yeast. On some days there is high humidity, so you have to account for that. Other days, lower humidity. Sourdough is a whole different ballgame than using commercial yeast.

I don't know if I have a least favorite kitchen task. As a cook you take the good with the bad. What I hated doing five years ago, I love now. I even like cleaning, who the fuck likes to clean?

We cooks talk about memorable meals all the time. I have two. Cooks are always poor. I've been married for nine years now and my wife and I always make it a point to go and have one really nice meal a year. One year we went to The French Laundry and had the private dining room all to ourselves. I remember the maitre'd came in and said, "the other people who were to join you, have canceled. You have the room all night." That meal was great because we were treated so specially. Other meal was at Manresa. We ordered the entire tasting menu and the entire a la carte menu. We were there for five and a half hours and did twenty-one courses. It was fucking insane. Ohh, and we did all the wine pairings as well. At one point, my wife said, "Fuck, we are still on white wine. We have a long way to go." I think Manresa is serving the best food of any restaurant in America.

I like cooking for my family the most. As a cook we are constantly trying to justify our craft to our families. We arent ought saving the world, we aren't curing cancer, we just cook food for people to eat. So there is still that drive to make your family very proud of what you do. And cooking for them let's us do that. I'd love to cook for Douglas Keane. I have a tremendous amount of respect for him because I worked for him for so long.

I remember the first time I saw an ingredient you find on candy bars in a high end restaurant kitchen. Soy leciethen was the ingredient. I hate that high end restaurants are using that shit and charging people a fortune for that. You aren't a chef if you can't make great plates from food that grows in the dirt, swims in the ocean, or grazes in the fields plus a little salt and pepper. Technique is what great cooking is built on. I want a potato to taste like a fucking potato. Cryovacs and immersion circulators in my mind are no different than microwaves.

Fucking texting. I hate people texting in my kitchen. When you show up to work, work. Text when you get home.

What we do here is so simple. We don't get any produce delivered. We go to the market and what we find there is what we cook with. So you won't see anymore Creoles soon and we aren't going to serve Cauliflower in summer. That forces us to be creative.

Within three months, we had moved to New Orleans, had a baby, and opened a restaurant. We put up the lights, finished the floor, built this space. So there is an emotional attachment to this restaurant fueled by those hardships. After we opened, we discovered people have a preconceived notion of what pizza is supposed to be. We fight that everyday.

I put my hands on every single pizza that a customer eats. If they don't like it, it means they don't like what I did. And that is humbling.

Wood, sea salt, and Double O flour are my essential kitchen tools. Most of what we do, that is all we need to do it. All of our breads are just flour, sea salt, and water. Those are the most important ingredients.

After a long day, I like to eat cheese and bread and drink beer. I really love St. James which is one of my favorite places to go. Even coming from Bay Area, where there is a cheese shop on nearly every corner, St. James stands out.  It is the best cheese shop I've ever been in. I love everything about it, especially the smell.

The biggest influence in my career was traveling in Europe. Not neccessarily working in the kitchens, because all high end kitchens are pretty much the same. But being able to drive an hour and eat at a place like Auberge du Lac which has had 3 Michelin stars for like 50 years.

From My Grandmother's Kitchen. Marco Pierre White's White Heat is very motivational, but I have never cooked anything out of it. I just love the way he talks about food in that book. Flavors of Tuscanny. I read that book cover to cover. No chefs buy cookbooks for the recipes. You buy it to put you in a frame of mind. So when you are wanting to "Be Italian" or "Be Rustic" you read a book that takes you there and shows you the thought process of how to prepare food in that manner.

Probably the cooking of Northern Italy is my favorite Italian cuisine. The further north you go in Italy, the more it falls in line with the cuisines that surround it. As you go south, even into Tuscanny, you start finding poor man's food where they aren't relying on eggs and butter as much.

No shit, I ended up in New Orleans because of a Mano. We went there like five times before even partnered with Adolfo. I just love what they do there. Then of course, we are eagerly awaiting the reopening of Casamentos. And I love Hansen's, before we opened I went there everyday. My favorite flavor is The Thai Trifecta - ginger, limeade and cream of coconut.

I'd start with the cured meat plate definitely, the affetati misti. My favorite pizza here is the marinara. Two years go I loved the margerita, but now I see less as more. When you start putting too much stuff on pizza, it suffers. Our marinara is just dough, wild oregano, shaved garlic and the best possible tomatoes we can find. That is it. For dessert, I'd have the daily sweetbread. Again, simplicity it is just sourdough with dried fruits, nuts, marscapone cheese, and honey.

Never liquor with pizza. Beer or wine. Beer with some things, wine with others. But as I get older, I find myself drinking more beer.

I used to work on a fishing boat so I would be bringing fishing shit with me to a deserted island. If I wasn't doing pizza, I'd be cooking fish. I'd bring some seeds so I could grow stuff I needed to cook. Something to take salt out of the water which would also leave me with a huge supply of sea salt. Pepper. And I'd bring my knives. Be pretty set with all of that. Ohh, can I add something unfucking practical like ice cream just because?

Rising Tide

Tomorrow will be the last football free Saturday until January. (It's about damn time.) Beginning in one week, your Saturday will likely be overtaken by listening to Kirk Herbstreit talk about Ohio State winning the BCS, consuming massive quantities of bourbon from a plastic flask, and deciphering how Les Miles used "want" as both a verb and a noun in the same sentence during his halftime interview with Erin Andrews.

So how do you spend your final Saturday devoid of the pigskin? Why, by attending an intellectually stimulating conference on post-Katrina New Orleans, of course.

Or you could just listen to Todd Price, Chris DeBarr, Adolfo Garcia, Alex Del Castillo, and Rene rant and ramble on for an hour about the current food culture of New Orleans.

You can catch this cast of characters live and in living color at Rising Tide VI, "an annual gathering for all who wish to learn more and do more to assist New Orleans' recovery. It's for everyone who loves New Orleans and is working to bring a better future to all its residents." Blackened Out is honored that we were asked to participate in and contribute to such a noble cause.* For more on the history of Rising Tide, click here.

The event kicks off tonight with a party at Tracey's and then continues tomorrow with a day long of speakers and panel discussions at Xavier's University Center. Tickets are $30 and can be purchased online.

Have a great weekend.

*I will be unable to attend due to an Outlook calendar malfunction.

Stoltzfus

Michael Stoltzfus came to New Orleans from Maryland to work at John Besh's August. Not long after,  he and then girlfriend now fiancee, Lillian Hubbard opened Coquette on the corner of Washington and Magazine in December of 2008. Within a few months they had Four Beans from the Times Pic and the restaurant was well on its way to joining the roster of restaurants one has to eat at in New Orleans. In December, Stoltzfus will open his second eatery, Sweet Olive in The Saint Hotel. Let's put twentyish questions on the clock and get to know Michael Stoltzfus.

I was about to go to college and my mom opened a bakery. She said, "why don't you work here for a few weeks before school starts?" I never left for college. Started cooking breakfast and lunch in the back of the bakery. Got an Alain Ducasse book and just taught myself from there.

While I was working at my mom's in the morning, I was spending nights working at a fine dining restaurant in Chestertown, Maryland. Then I went to work at Julia's, probably the best restaurant at that time in Maryland. At Julia's I worked every position in restaurant- waiter, cook, manager- save bartender. After that, I went to work at August. Stayed there for a year and a half before this opportunity fell in our laps.

Losing all my money (laughs). Actually the thing I was most afraid of was not being able to cook. When you work for someone else, there is always a way to do things. Their vision, their recipe are what you use. I was afraid that I wasn't going to be able to cook food that was any good. When we opened, we had no idea what was going on with national economy. Luckily, Louisiana was pretty recession proof at that time. We were steady for the first five months, and then Brett Anderson reviewed us, and we took off from there. We had no idea he had been in, no idea we were on anyone's radar, and then the Times Picayune called to do a photo shoot for a review. We were shocked.

My approach to food has changed a lot. When we first opened, I was trying to emulate the cooking of the people I had learned from and so there was a heavy Besh presence to my food. In a way this was detrimental to my growth as a chef. A few years ago, something switched and my cooks and I started focusing our menu on what we would like to eat. How would we like to eat this ingredient. My cooks create more than I do now and in the last year we really started to focus on local products and purveyors. I'd say right now we get 80% of our produce locally and hopefully with Sweet Olive we will get that number to 100%.

I've become much more laid back recently. My biggest kitchen pet peeve is probably watching a cook turn a burner on high and try to cook something. The only time a burner should ever be on high in a kitchen is when you are trying to boil water. One of the most important aspects to cooking is controlling your heat and you can't do that on high. Also, I need a really clean kitchen. But all chefs are like that.

I love making bread. Making bread everyday for the restaurant can be monotonous, but there is nothing more rewarding than baking bread. What is funny is that at my mom's bakery, I never baked anything. Now I bake 60-70 loaves a day. Pulling a loaf of bread out of the oven is super rewarding. It is just flour, water, and yeast, but what comes out is so much more.

Hardest part of opening the restaurant was that neither Lillian nor I had any business background whatsoever. We had no idea of what we were getting ourselves into. I learned I was halfway decent at business things.

The French Laundry Cookbook- It is sort of the template of most cooks for the last 10 years or so, but I really love that book. Bread Baker's Apprentice. The Gift of Southern Cooking by Edna Lewis and Scott Peacock's. And I really like the NOMA cookbook, because it is so different and revolutionary. His emphasis on foraging and cooking ingredients I've never heard of is so different, it is really cool.

These days my favorite kitchen tool is my Sharpie. But always the knife. I use an 8 inch Misono chef's knife for just about everything.

Had a cook on maybe his third day. Right before service on a busy Friday night there was a huge stock pot on a table by the dishwasher's station. The leg of the table gave out and the cook rushed over to save the stock. 15 gallons of near boiling hot stock went everywhere including all over him. That was a pretty gruesome thing to see.

The food at Sweet Olive is going to be updated versions of New Orleans and Southern food classics. We are going to take a similar approach there that we do at Coquette and have a good time with the food. I've been obsessed with collard greens lately. One idea has us cooking whole leaf collards sous vide, then treating it like a grape leaf and wrapping it around boudin. We are also going to do bar food for the bar, a really great Continental breakfast, and maybe a tiki bar themed rooftop bar. We've got 3-4 months to put together the menu; when we opened Coquette we did not have that luxury.

I get really nervous cooking for people, especially chefs. Cooks all have different approaches to foods, so I am always nervous when I serve a chef he is thinking, "This is not what I would have done." I'd probably just want to cook for friends and family mostly. I love when people come in and I can cook on the fly, just make new things with the ingredients we have in our kitchen. If I spend weeks on a new menu, it is invariably crap. But if I just throw something together it is always great. Desperation plays a critical role in this kitchen.

When not in my restaurant, I like to eat. I eat out a lot. When we first opened, we ate out whenever we could, in order to scope out the competition. But now we do it because we love to eat.

Most memorable meal was at Babbo. We had gone to New York to eat. One night we ate at Corton, Paul Liebrandt's restaurant. While the food was good, it was nothing special. You could tell that a lot of time had been put into each dish, but it was just lacking. Plus it was a very expensive meal. The next night we went to Babbo and did the pasta tasting for like $60. Everything was so simple, but so well done. The sommelier waited on us and halfway through switched pairings to grappa, there was rock music in the background, just a great meal.

Mike Gulotta of August, probably. He taught me how to make food taste good and how to run a kitchen.

Truffle oil, but thankfully that is going away anyway. I can't stand the stuff and will never use it here. That is disgusting stuff. And of course, I wish restaurants would get away from commodity meats and the like. I am not preachy about it, don't plaster farms all over the menu, but that is really important to me. As cooks we have a duty to our customers to give them healthy food- not just for their bodies but for the environment also.

Right now, I am really being influenced by Spanish and Vietnamese flavors and cooking. One of my cook's is from Miami and so he has a huge love of Spanish cooking. Another one of my cooks is absolutely obsessed with all things Vietnamese. Eventually I'd like to have a really casual spot that just serves awesome food without worrying about plating or dining rooms. I cook to make people happy and casual food does that better than anything else.

Usually the last thing I want to do when I get home is cook. Lillian is an excellent cook, so usually she has something ready. If not, I like to grill. The other day picked up some boudin stuffed quail from Butcher and threw those on the grill. If nothing to grill, Lillian hasn't cooked anything, and nothing in fridge, I just eat almonds.

La Boca is my favorite restaurant in the city. There is absolutely no pretension there. I love that they can serve me an appetizer that is just a piece of sausage and an entree that is just a piece of meat. Lillian is an occasional vegan, but even she loves La Boca. Adolfo thinks I am stalking him because I go to a lot of his restaurants and he is always there. Nine Roses, we go here pretty much every Sunday night in the winter. Horinoya is the only good sushi I've found in the city and their service is incredible. And Butcher, that place is an anomaly. Every time I go in there, it gets better and better. I love Butcher.

On a deserted island, I would need sparkling water. I go through 3 liters of the stuff a day. Something to dip ranch into, along with ranch dressing. Marconna almonds and crispy pig ear. We fry it up to order at the restaurant, and there is always a few bits for me to snack on. I figure I eat pig ear all night. Probably not healthy but hey it is good.

First Look: High Hat

Stop me if you have heard this one. It is late in the week, but not quite the weekend. Maybe payday fell on a Thursday or maybe you just don't feel like cooking. Your wife or husband or boyfriend or roommate looks at you and says, "Let's just go grab a bite to eat. Nothing fancy."

Sure you say. "Where do you want to go?"

Now the decision making process begins. Perhaps you are in the mood for Vietnamese, but you also know that your dining companion had it yesterday. Maybe someone wants Mexican but you both agree there isn't very good Mexican in town unless you go to Taqueria D.F. and you want to sit down and have a beer with dinner. Eventually you settle on a spot where you will not spend a fortune, the beer is cold, and the menu has something for everyone. I am not saying High Hat is my de facto spot for this dining scenario, but it could be real soon.

First reason why is that High Hat, a new venture between Chip Apperson and Adolfo Garcia, is incredibly close to our house on the booming Freret St. If I owned a bike, I could walk there. Secondly, the place is no frills. Paper napkins, no tablecloths, a long bar, tile floors, and a few old signs make up the decor of the restaurant. Third, and most importantly, the food is really good.

As High Hat focuses on the food of the Mississippi Delta, we started with an order of tamales. Each tamale was as thick as two fat cigars. The corn meal had just turned from molten to barely solid, like grits left out on the breakfast table. Inside the wrapping sat sultry chunks of pork. A spicy, well-oiled dipping sauce helped add moisture and another level of flavor. "Let's order another plate," Lindsay asked.

Lindsay would be a vegetarian if bacon could be included. Luckily for her, High Hat has a vegetable plate which makes that dream a possibility. A chunk of cornbread sat at twelve o'clock high on her plate. At three was a bowl of okra and tomatoes, with a good dose of hard spice. The flavor of that okra made us calendar a return date for late fall. At six o'clock sat another bowl - this one filled with perfectly tender, black eyed peas which could give your momma's red beans a run for their money.

Finally from the eight to 11 o clock spot sat some big pods of green beans tossed in a dressing akin to a vinaigrette and crowned with bacon. Dragging cornbread through the slurry of black pepper and bacon jus left behind on the plate after the beans were polished off, elevated what was otherwise a rather dry and coarse piece of cornbread.

Fried chicken may never be the new black, bacon focused food cart but I still love it. The way its crust can tell so much about the technique of the cook. How the juicy interior can show proper seasoning or a lack of care. As fried chicken goes, High Hat's version is a solid A minus. I liked that they cut the breast into two pieces. Which makes it fry better and also increases the surface area of crust to meat. A word about that crust, it is coarser and more rustic than versions you may be used to, but no less good. There seems to be a heavy reliance on cornmeal in the batter and this results in a more textured finished crust. The meat was well-seasoned from all the way to the bone but tended to get a little dry in spots.

Sides were the pimento cheese mac and cheese and an order of finely chopped, pork spiked, and smoky mustard greens. The mac was a bit dry, but the red pepper flavor of the pimento shined. It is hard to imagine anyone making mustard greens much better than High Hat's version. I think we have a new answer to that age old question, at least in our house.

Short Order Reviews

It is lonely at Blackened Out Physical Therapy and Grease Trap Removal service. Peter is in New York, or maybe it is Paris, or Ancient Rome or it could be Mandalay Bay. I didn't really pay attention. So while he is gone, I'm using this as an opportunity to put my feet up, drink milk out of the carton, and watch kung fu movies. Also, give you some short order reviews.

The Theatres at Canal Place/Gusto - I don't often see movies, but when I do I prefer it to be enjoyed with wine. Last Thursday we went to see "Midnight in Paris" which as far as time travel movies go, was pretty awful. But the scenery, some of the comedic bits, and the theme was interesting. The food and wine however was much better. An artichoke salad with tender, slightly marinated hearts of youthful artichokes sat on top of field greens with a light vinaigrette and was devoured immediately. Then a sampler snack platter arrived. Tzatziki, humus, marinated feta, smoky, sweet, and sour vegetables, olives, and an assortment of crispy breads provided an assortment of flavor options all with a slight backbone of salt. Which of course made drinking two bottles of Cotes du Rhone all but inevitable. Two complaints: one this menu needs a rose; secondly, it has been almost a week, and the $99 pending charge still has not gone away from running a tab. This wouldn't be a big deal if the signed for charge had not already gone through. Theatres/Gusto- Eagle for watching movies, Bogie for extortion. 

Taj Mahal - It is official. Ethnic food, specifically from the area of the world known generally as "Asiatic" is what the Boss and I crave when hungover hunger strikes. Such was the case the day after the trip to the movies. First up, a round of samosas and aloo tikka. The former being the Indian take on the Cajun meat pie (or vice versa) and stuffed with potatoes and peas. Crisp, hot, and flaky, these are perfect with a cold Kingfisher beer. Sindhi aloo tikka was a new dish for us, soft patties of potato topped with chickpeas in a fragrant and subtly spicy sauce and drizzle of yogurt. We fought over the last bit on the plate. Chicken vindaloo and an order of Saag Paneer and we were stuffed, spiced, and out the door. Taj Mahal - Par/Birdie.

J'anita's. Last time we reviewed J'Anitas, it was located in The Avenue Pub and we nearly incited a riot. (If riots can be measured by a few emails and facebook insults.) On this second round, the reality of the goodness of the food coming from Craig And Kimmie Giesecke's kitchen far exceeded the hype. First, came a dish of lamb and grits. Tender, marinated lamb chops sat atop a rich, creamy layer of cheesy grits. Comfort and elegance personified, but can't help but think that stewed lamb would be a better fit. But that is a minor complaint, for what is a majorly good dish. Then the Swamp Reuben with pulled pork, brisket, cole slaw and barbecue sauce arrived and quickly put all other barbecue sandwiches to bed. Delicious, smoky, and rare for a sandwich, just as good the next day. We also had the Not Quite Cuban, which subs chimichurri for mustard and puts a garlic and herbal note on the classic sandwich. With the Cuban, there were no leftovers. Add on a comfortable bar with a good selection of beers, and I'm very glad they moved into my neighborhood. J'Anita's/Rendon Inn - Birdie.

An Italian Groove

If Vietnamese was all the rage with the under 30 Bywater set in 2010, then Italian is going to be the It cuisine in 2011. Well, that is if the last month of where I've been eating is any indication. It all started when Peter and I dined at Mario Batali's Otto restaurant in Las Vegas. Verdict: that guy and his cooks know what they are doing. Carbonara pizza was stunning. I find myself continuously reaching for Marcella Hazan cookbooks and dreaming of prosciutto and prosecco laced afternoons.

Last Friday, lunch at Herbsaint. Began with a few samples of menu items chef de cuisine Ryan Prewitt has been developing. First was a mortadella puree with mustard seeds and pickled red onions. Simply dynamite. Then a large cornmeal blini topped with smoked mackerel tossed in a hazelnut dressing and thin slices of kumquat. While I am not the hugest fan of smoked fish, this was a delight: soft and fragrant with the kumquats and hazelnut dressing taking the dish in a Venetian/Orient trading direction.

Then, the dark rust colored chicken and sausage gumbo and a Tuscan bean soup. The chicken and sausage gumbo at Herbsaint is the best in the city. Smoky, rich, and thick without being gloppy, this version achieves a level of perfection few gumbos ever reach. Next a salad of fresh lettuces with city ham, Ryal's cheddar, and a buttermilk dressing. The city ham got lost in the shuffle and were chewy, but the slivers of Ryal's cheddar were creamy and delicious. Now granted, there was nothing Italian about the salad or the gumbo. However, the simple presentation and selection of good local ingredients is Italian in spirit. Finished it off with the always amazing and over the top spaghetti with fried egg and guanciale. Again, not sure if this Italian, but like Sinatra it should be.

Next Tuesday, Herbsaint is hosting a Barolo dinner with Hopper's Wine and Spirits. The menu is solid, the wines rare, and the company will be great as I have heard Robert Peyton will not be in attendance.

Dinner two weeks ago at a Mano. We dined as we are becoming accustomed to - order a selection of appetizers or starters to dance around the menu. The usually reliable and excellent tripe fell just short of its mark, the tripe slightly overcooked and turning to mush. The bruschetta di 'nduja was marvelous though with its deep porky flavor and perk of spiciness. Braesola with arugula is a dish best enjoyed on a summer night, but it is not bad on a cold Thursday either. The ricotta fritters were dense and boring; they need to bring back the Supli al Telefono.

Spaghetti carbonara and buccattini alla'amatriciana rounded out the meal. The former suffered from a bit too much salt but was still a glorious example of why pork and eggs are totes BFF. The latter could have been spicier for more taste, but the impeccable pasta did nothing to distract me from the Italian Groove.

Weekend Roundup

With the NFL taking a breather before the Super Bowl, this weekend is flush with events for music lovers, beer nerds, and chocoholics, plus an opportunity for you to enjoy a fine meal and support an admirable non-profit organization at the same time. Here's the rundown.

Tonight, OffBeat Magazine hosts this year's Best of the Beat Awards Party at Generations Hall. The talent on stage includes the likes of Deacon John, Ivan Neville's Dumpstaphunk, and more. Besides all of the music, the price of admission also includes an impressive spread from local restaurants, including Besh Steakhouse, Martinique Bistro, and The Joint. Tickets are $29 in advance and $39 at the door.

On Saturday, Dan Stein is celebrating his own version of Festivus with the 3rd Annual Beer Day. All day long, Stein's Deli will be pouring free samples of its beers for sale and marking down all purchases of beer by 10%. Additionally, homebrewing expert Derek Lintern will be brewing up a few batches of a Belgian-style double and oak vanilla stout.


And there will be no resting on Sunday with a full day's worth of fun:

• Starting at 1:00 at The Avenue Pub, Aaron Hyde of Brewstock will be teaching a free class on homebrewing basics.
• Local public television station WYES will be hosting its Chocolate Sunday celebration at Harrah's Theatre. This event features over 50 local chocolatiers, bakeries, and restaurants doling out samples of all things chocolate. The 2 hour event begins at 3:00, but VIP ticketholders gain access at 2:00. Ticket are available online and range in price from $30 to $50.
• On Sunday night, Chef Adolfo Garcia and Rio Mar are hosting "Mixing Up Some Magic", a special dinner to benefit Liberty's Kitchen, a non-profit dedicated to transforming the life of at-risk youth through life skills taught in a culinary setting. The 3 course menu featuring Gulf seafood sausage, herb roated lamb shoulder, and roasted pear cake costs $75 per person inclusive of wine, tax, and tip. Reservations must be made online.

And, of course, if you have a hankering for a hamburger when Sunday night rolls around, you know where to go.

The Post-Katrina Top 20: #5 - #1

Today, we unveil the Top 5 additions to the New Orleans Dining and Drinking Scene Post-Katrina. We knew this was a cliche idea. However, going through the exercise provided us with an opportunity not only to examine the New Orleans restaurant scene in toto but also to look with special favor upon what came after the storm. Those restaurateurs, bartenders, and shopkeepers who chose New Orleans to hang their shingles or branch out, despite the odds.

First off, we realize many great restaurants struggled to return to New Orleans. They found their cooks, bussers, and waiters all over the country and brought them back. They dealt with insurance adjusters and new regulations. They reopened with skeletal crews and out of whack balance sheets. To them we owe a lot. For if they don't come back, these places don't exist. So a big round of applause to all the restaurants in New Orleans that reopened after Katrina.

We also know there are many great places that didn't make the list. Places like Il Posto, which Rene refuses to write about because he doesn't want to fight crowds on Saturday morning trips for a cappuccino and a California bagel. Places like Meson 923 which have returned to New Orleans a prodigal chef in Chris Lynch. Places like Mondo and Coquette which are putting good food in great neighborhoods and watching the lines form. And restaurants, stores, and bars that have yet to be conceived, developed and opened.

Cue the Chairman of the Board, "The Best is Yet to Come."

#5: The Sun Rarely Sets on The Besh Empire - In the days after Katrina, John Besh and his trusted cooks Blake LeMarie and Alon Shaya used the Katrina trinity (propane tanks, flatboats, and ice chests) to serve loads of hungry refugees and recovery workers. Nearly five years later, Chef Besh was once again at the forefront, this time in the wake of the Deepwater Horizon disaster. In between those times, he did little more than open 3 new restaurants and continue the legacy of a 4th. Not a bad stretch, if you ask us.

But it's not so much the quantity as the quality and diversity of the Besh family of post-K restaurants which warrants high praise. When Cobalt failed to reopen after the breach, Besh seized the opportunity to reinvent the first floor of the Masonic Temple into an Alsatian brasserie, complete with pulley and belt-driven fans which were a trademark at Kolb's. Enter Lüke, now the most popular restaurant for a business lunch in the CBD.

The dichotomy of forward thinking paired with a nod to the past was exemplified in two of Besh's post-K acquisitions. When his former mentor Chris Kerageaorgiou was in search of someone to pass the torch to at La Provence, Besh took over the reigns and revived its farm-to-fork history by growing vegetables and raising livestock on the grounds, while continuing the tradition of rustic French cuisine in a country house setting. Similarly, at The American Sector, Besh honors the greatest generation by serving World War II era food using contemporary ingredients and techniques.

And if three is good, four must be better. New Orleans has always had its own distinctive Creole-Italian cuisine, known for smooth, sweet red sauces and an unconventional bordelaise comprised of olive oil and garlic. But with the opening of Domenica, Chef John Besh and Alon Shaya ushered in a new era of Italian dining in the city. House cured salumi and wood-fired pizzas share menu space along with exquisitely made pastas, with no "red gravy" to be found.

#4: Sucre - Tariq Hanna, chef of Sucre, said it better than we ever could. When asked about why people like sweets he responded, "You only eat sweets for two reasons: because you are seeking comfort or soothing guilt."

No matter where you were when Katrina hit, or how you have lived your life since then, those descriptions fit. When Sucre opened it set off an only in New Orleans brawl between supporters of Sucre and supporters of La Divina Gelateria. The Jets and Sharks, Bloods and Crypts, and Hatields and McCoys look like catfights compared to the Blue Bloods and Hipsters.

Sucre has distinguished itself in our eyes. There are airy, pastel colored macaroons, petit fours with layers of raspberry, chocolate, and more chocolate, milkshakes spiked with Bailey's, espressos, truffles with sea salt, and of course cakes resembling whichever team the Saints are destroying that week.

Joel Dondis always had a sweet tooth. But it was while living and working in Germany, he first decided to one day own a pastry shop. He found going to the bakery down the street provided relief from long hours and low pay as a cook. Dondis and Hanna teamed up to open Sucre in April of 2007. Since then the childhood inspired, sweet shop on Magazine has expanded to include a pastry factory near Broadmoor, where the cakes, truffles, ice creams, and baked goods are made by a dedicated staff. A staff that includes many graduates of the Culinary Institute of America. The word is out among the nation's up and coming pastry chefs. If you want to be somebody, you need to work at Sucre.

Soon a location will open in Lakeside Mall with an espresso machine called the Slayer. "This is going to revolutionize the coffee drinking experience in New Orleans," Dondis explains. "You will be able to choose your blend, grind size, water temperature, pressure, all of it."

To steal from Rick Pitino, "McKenzie's isn't walking through that door."

But that's OK. We got Sucre now.

#3: St. James Cheese Co. - "People said we were insane to open a cheese shop in New Orleans," Danielle Sutton says. "We are glad to prove them wrong."

Prior to Katrina, Richard Sutton worked as a cheesemonger in London. He and his wife, Tulane alums (we hear it is a college), returned to New Orleans with the idea to open a quiet, little cheese shop uptown. When they opened in November of 2006, the plan was to only have one or two sandwiches and to build a small niche as a supplier of fine cheeses. That plan soon changed once the public got a taste of their sandwich creations.

In winter crowds clamor for the raclette and croque monsieur. And last summer, the removal of the BLT with Serrano ham replacing bacon caused an uproar. "We had customers call and ask if the BLT was on the menu. When we would say no, they would hang up on us," Danielle recounts.

But still, the staff at St. James focuses on delivering the best cheeses and charcuterie from around the world. To witness, walk in to St. James on a Thursday around noon. The line will snake from the register down the display cases filled with people drooling over the selections. Richard, or one of his able staffmembers, will come over to and ask you what you want. "What is new," you ask.

Their eyes light up like a kid on Easter Sunday who spies a basket of candy on the mantle. "Have you tried the new aged gouda? Or the Ste. Marcelin? A delicious Triple Creme is in, layered with truffles, try it. What about this blue from Humboldt?"

And off they go dispensing samples of cheese, pates, and cured meats, while taking an order for a Mozzarella sandwich, and uncorking a bottle of rose. Recently, St. James added an online presence via a partnership with Taigan.com, the high-end, luxury online shopping center (backed by First Street resident Julia Reed). Previously they only accepted phone orders for out of town shipments. Which is a great gift to give a sister, should you have one living in say DC or New York.

St. James is also a great spot for dinner. Let us explain. You know those Fridays, when there is no food in the house and you don't really feel like going out to dinner? Swing by St. James, pick out three or four cheese, a pate, some slices of Jamon Serrano (or Iberico if you got that cash money), and a baguette. Take it home and lay it out on the biggest cutting board you have. Open a bottle of wine, put your feet up, and graze the night away.

With Andy Scurlock manning the charcuterie and turning out impressive truffle-studded pates and English meat pies, the future of St. James is bright. But it is the last four years that are special for Richard and Danielle. As Danielle explains, "We love the feeling that we have become a neighborhood spot in a city of great neighborhood spots. Our customers have become our friends, they go to Italy or France and bring us back treats. That really means a lot to us."

When the Sutton's came to New Orleans, they did not know what to expect but what they found has warmed their hearts. "New Orleans has been so supportive and welcoming to us. Even dealing with City Hall was enjoyable," Danielle says.

If that isn't a sign, New Orleans is back. We don't know what is.

#2: Cochon/Cochon Butcher - Chef Donald Link said it best during his segment on No Reservations: "You respect somebody for staying here. Staying here after the storm and raising your family here is making a statement."

Not only did Chef Link stay in New Orleans to raise his family, he and partner Stephen Stryjewski also moved forward with their plans to open Cochon, the porcine mecca on Tchoupitoulas Street. Beside introducing New Orleanians to the wonders of rustic Acadiana cooking, the media frenzy surrounding Cochon sent an important message to the rest of the nation: New Orleans and its food culture still matter and are worth saving. While some members of the press were kicking us while we were down, restaurateurs like Link were too busy raising the city up to even bother with the naysayers.

But all of the press and accolades were no reason for Link to rest on his laurels. In early 2009 the Link Restaurant Group launched Cochon Butcher, the forerunner of the salumi movement that has swept both the local and national dining scenes. Many people don't realize that before ABC Restaurant in NYC began curing its speck in house, the coonasses of Cajun country had about a 250 year head start on them. Butcher has brought those time tasted crafts to the Big Easy, which in turn launched this artisan movement onto the national level.

#1: La Boca - The worst kept secret in New Orleans is that it is a wonderful place to get a steak. For years Ruth Fertel's halfway eponymous restaurants showed the world how to cook and serve a steak. Ruth's Chris Corporate Office left the city with the flood waters, pissing a lot of people off. Into this vacuum stepped La Boca, which has established itself as the city's best steakhouse.

Nick Bazan and Adolfo Garcia came up with the idea of La Boca prior to Katrina. Originally they wanted a 150 seat restaurant devoted to all things Argentinian meat. But the federal flood caused them to change their plans. Luckily, Taqueria Corona never returned and they got a good deal on a 47 seat restaurant. They also had to focus the menu to what ingredients they could get reliably day in and day out. As chef/partner Jared Ralls puts it, "Adolfo and I always talk about keeping dishes simple and singularly focused. By lessening the stuff on the plate, we can increase our chances for success."

La Boca opened on June 1, 2006, which as you are well aware is the first day of hurricane season. "It was a way of saying 'Screw it, we aren't going anywhere.' We had faith in New Orleans, faith it would come back, faith people would get what we were trying to do from a culinary standpoint," Ralls recounts.

It took about two years for the restaurant to really catch on with both locals and tourists. "Business was always good, but then all of a sudden at the beginning of 2008, we just exploded," Ralls says. The success has not stopped La Boca from doing a Service Industry Night every Thursday, when you can spy some of the city's best chefs digging into steaks and slugging red wine long after the customers have gone home.

La Boca has all the classic grill marks of a steakhouse, with subtle nods to more contemporary dining. The interior of La Boca is like eating inside a large brick fireplace, with red masonry, wood timbers, and a warm glow from the kitchen. In other steakhouses the walls are lined with pictures of sports stars from year's past shaking hands with the owner. Here, are Boca Junior soccer jerseys and paraphernalia from Argentina.

Rather than beat you over the head with bottles you can't afford, the wine list at La Boca offers an all Argentine selection of toned, lean whites and muscular, lusty reds. Affordability is the main link. Hell, there even is a surly maitre d', albeit one wearing a Marilyn Monroe tie, Scarface suspenders, and saddle oxfords.

The vibe of La Boca has nothing on the food. Gooey provoleta smeared over those rolls and lacquered with chimichurri make the grilled cheese seem juvenile. The plump, tender sweetbreads, grilled whole and served with just a squeeze of lemon, have no equal in the city. The gnocchi is like eating a potato that just made love to butter and cream. Even the heart of palm salad makes a compelling argument to eat more veggies.

Then we come to the main event, the steaks. Sourced from places with cool names like Snake River and Painted Hills, this is not the place to order a filet (although the bone-in job is pretty good). Go with the hanger, the skirt, the skirt with skin, or the flank. All of the steaks, save the bottom sirloin flap, get only a sprinkling of salt and pepper before hitting the grill. This absence of fussing around means you taste the beef in all of it's glory. The three chimichurris are the colors on your palette wheel. Paint as you will.

Don't forget an order of the fries, or the mashed potatoes, or the corn pudding or the asparagus. Go ahead and linger for a while. If it is a nice March or October evening, the windows to Fulton St. will be open wide. Sit, swirl, and sip that Malbec. It should be loosening up about now, as should your mood. Stick around long enough and the Red Eye will open. Go ahead and go, we won't judge. Lord knows we've all been there once before and soon enough, will be again.

We chose La Boca as our favorite Post Katrina addition to the New Orleans food scene for a few reasons. First, we love steak and feel it is the best steakhouse in the city. Secondly, although La Boca is a few years old, there is still a feeling of excitement every time we go. One of us will go and text the other, "Heading to La Boca." Instantly a wave of jealousy spreads over the other Blackened Out twin.

Third, the Warehouse District has become the post-Katrina center of dining in the city. The sheer volume of excellent restaurants within a 6 block walk keeps each operator on top of their game. And in this area, there is no better place we like to eat than La Boca.

Finally, we all lost nouns in Katrina - places, things, and people. Whatever it is Katrina took from you, what you really lost was the memory of the noun. Your kids walking down the stairs on Christmas morning, the picture of you and your cousin in Destin, or the restaurant where your husband proposed. Restaurants in New Orleans have always been more than places to get a meal. They are links to the past. Memory place card holders which evoke not only good food but also great times. Maybe it was eating at Ruth's after either your First Communion or high school graduation. Maybe you never went but always wanted to go to Christian's. Restaurants matter here almost as much as the World Champion Saints.

But what Katrina didn't take was our ability to dine out. To eat well with friends or perfect strangers. To create memories which will live on past the latest fad in cooking or the bonds of any friendship. La Boca has become our favorite new place to create lasting memories. The restaurant has accomplished this by borrowing from the past while being truly original. By extension, La Boca feels like it has always been a part of New Orleans. For that, it gets our nod as the best addition to the New Orleans food scene Post-Katrina. Here's wishing it stays a treasure of New Orleans forever.

Rio Mar

Long before La Boca revolutionized the New Orleans steakhouse and A Mano began curing salumi in house, Chef Adolfo Garcia had his one and only: Rio Mar. Labeled as "a seafood destination," Garcia's flagship is perhaps best known for serving Spanish fare adapted to the bounties of our local waters, as well as ceviches native to Garcia's homeland of Panama. While the majority of the menu does feature seafood, carnivorous offerings such as grilled hanger steak and blood sausage fill out a menu of a restaurant to which there is much more than what meets the eye.

Rio Mar is truly a tale of two restaurants, depending on what time of day you dine. During lunch they offer a strictly tapas menu that lists upwards of 30 items which diners check off on a sheet of paper, similar to ordering at a sushi bar. Favorites include the aforementioned blood sausage (morcilla) with its rich, beef flavor and cake-like texture, the fruity and slightly acidic piquillo peppers, crispy patatas bravas topped with a mild aioli which you simply cannot get enough of, and the small pressed sandwiches called bocadillos. If dining with a large group, the $25 "Feed Me" option is a no brainer with its never ending parade of courses, which range from the excellent (bacalaitos - light and airy cod fritters) to the average (shrimp al ajillo sauteed in garlic).

There is some menu crossover between day and night - like the tuna empanada served with a garlicky sweet romesco sauce - but for the most part, the dinner menu is broken down into conventional appetizer, salad, and entree sections. In the summer heat, the best way to start your meal is with an order of refreshingly acidic ceviche. Meat lovers can then progress to the Latino-style roast pork or the sliced hanger steak served over fried yuca and dressed with chimichurri. Of the four Calasparra rice dishes, I enjoy most the one featuring littleneck mussels and chorizo. But if you (a) came here for seafood or (b) simply want to eat the second best dish on the menu, then look no further than the pan-roasted Louisiana black drum. Cooked till perfection when the flesh of the fish flakes away from the slightest pressure of a fork, this filet is served atop fried eggplant rounds and crunchy green beans with a deliciously smoky cumin-honey vinaigrette drizzled over the entire plate. This dish gives trout amandine a run for its money as the best fish dish in town.

So if the drum is the second best dish, the obvious question is: ¿Cuál es el número uno? The answer: A simple plate of ham. The ultimate indulgence at Rio Mar is 5 thin slices of jamon Iberico, an off the menu specialty which is usually available everyday. You can almost taste the acorns which those noble pigs feed on. Best $20 you will ever spend.

The Rankings

Food - Birdie. Chef Adolfo and his team headed by Chef Miles Prescott at night and his longtime tapas chef during the day know their food inside and out. Tapas at lunch are simple yet delicious, while dinner is a full blown array of Spanish flair and flavors augmented by local ingredients. The menu is full of dishes which are either only served at Rio Mar or only worth ordering at Rio Mar. There is no replication.

Bar/Wine/Service - Birdie. The entire floor staff is friendly and very well versed in the food and wine. Service is swift unless overwhelmed by an unexpected lunch rush on any other day but Friday. The wine list offers a number of Spanish selections at affordable prices; my only suggestion is that the vino tinto spend a bit more time in the chiller. The bar is an underutilized aspect of the restaurant and is perfect for sharing a few Estrellas or a bottle of txakolina amongst friends; if only the full tapas menu was available at night.

Overall - Birdie. Rio Mar is still the best Spanish restaurant in town, with a well executed menu which is diverse enough to warrant extensive exploration both at lunch and dinner.

Fish Fridays - Rio Mar

In the nineties, the Warehouse District dining scene was like America before European nations discovered it. If Emeril Lagasse was the Christopher Columbus of the movement to the Warehouse District, Adolfo Garcia must surely be Francisco Pizarro - the swashbuckling, conquistador who has established highly successful restaurants of differing scope throughout the area. Of course, as far as we know, there has been less blood shed with Garcia's conquest than with Pizarro's.

Garcia, 48, had cooked in restaurants in New Orleans and New York for years while waiting for his chance to cook his food on his terms in New Orleans. "I was cooking in New York, and I would come back every six months to take the pulse of the restaurant scene. People like Emeril, Susan (Spicer), and Donald (Link), they paved the way for restaurants to open which were different than traditional New Orleans restaurants," says Garcia.

In 2000, the time was right and Garcia and Nick Bazan opened Rio Mar. "Everyone told us we were crazy. They said, 'You are going to do Spanish seafood? Where?'"

Since opening, Rio Mar has attracted diners with their take on Spanish and Latin American, maritime focused cuisine. "We have a bacalao dish on the menu, and Europeans and Hispanics come in and order it because for them it is a traditional dish. But just last week, a group from Pennsylvania wanted to try it," Garcia says describing the popularity of the classic which was at first a tongue-in-cheek offering on Rio Mar's menu.

The dish is named Bacalao a la Abuelita Lula, after Garcia's grandmother. Garcia explains, "My mother, God bless her, made bacalao every Friday in lent, really always in Lent. It wasn't very good, she used ketchup. But when I saw how my grandmother cooked it, I saw how great it can be."

That bacalao starts with filets of cod which have been salted and left to dry. The cod arrives at Rio Mar with a crusty, white exterior. After three days of soaking in water (the water is changed daily), the cod is then cooked in an aromatic mixture of soffrito, tomatoes, raisins, and sherry vinegar. The bacalao is sent to the table crowned with parsley, olive oil and salted marcona almonds, a true "olfactory overload" describes Miles Prescott, sous chef at Rio Mar.

The sweet and sour sauce smelling dish, with a strong presence of cod, arrives at the table bubbling and perfuming everything around it. The taste is vaguely reminiscent of early forays into Asian dining, sweet and sour pork, duck sauce, and the like, but with a similarity to Creole sauce due to the tomato. Wash it down with an effervescent glass of txakoli.

When Garcia speaks, he does so with authority; be he talking about authentic Mexican cuisine, food costs, or discussing the effects of the Unification of Catholic Kings on Catalonian cuisine. "That sweet/sour flavor profile you find all over the Mediterranean-from Venice to Sicily, Corsica to Sardinia. At one time, many of those lands were under the control of the kingdom of Catalonia. This was before Spain unified, kicked out the Moors, and started burning heretics at the stake. You know, the Inquisition wasn't such a great time for Spain," he says.

Ceviche, another area of culinary expertise close to Garcia's heart, receives great respect from his kitchen staff. "Many places are serving 'ceviche,' but we really serve ceviche," Garcia explains.

Rio Mar's appeal lies not in its location or cuisine, but in its soul as a wonderful place to enjoy seafood prepared in different ways. So if you are looking to keep faithful, while tasting something different, head to Rio Mar this evening. Consider it Lenten American cuisine.

Panamanian Ceviche

Take 3 medium size drum filets (about 2 pounds total) and remove the blood line by cutting on either side of the line. Discard. Slice long, thin strips down the length of the filet and then cut strips into a small dice.

Dice a red onion. Take two habaneros, remove the seeds and stems, and finely dice. Combine the fish, habaneros, and red onion in a bowl. Cover with fresh squeezed lime juice, about a half cup, (you can use bottled lime juice, it's ok; Garcia does) and a good amount of salt.

Garcia believes the salt is key. "The acid in the lime juice will eat up most of the salt, so you need a lot in there." He used 2 big pinches of salt. Allow mixture to marinate for at least three hours.

Serve with corn chips, popcorn, or (Garcia's favorite) ice cold beer.