Arnaud's: Is It Worth It?

All men have bias. One of mine, was a firmly held belief that Arnaud's was a has been, or maybe yet, a never was. A few years ago two group dinners in quick succession cemented in my skull that this old dame was getting by on purely the tourist, debutante, and Carnival trade. This is the worst combination of patrons to rely on for a restaurant recommendation. To wit, a dish of chicken pontalba arrived sans brabant potatoes. On other visit, creme brulee took a downmarket turn by substituting a ramekin of whipped cream for luscious custard. The response from the servers on both occasions, "Yeah, that's how that dish is served traditionally."

I was predisposed to develop a negative opinion on this restaurant.

But then a pitch perfect Sazerac arrived, cold and bracing under a faint whiff of anise. The first one dispatched, a second one arrived with little more than eye contact and desire. The handsome dining room soon took over with its glass and wood evoking, and at the same time establishing, this as a potential great place to spend a few hours eating and drinking. Certainly better, than say, prison.

Then a plate of souffle potatoes which brought to life an M.C. Escher drawing. Tucked into the folds of a starched napkin stood crisp, airy potatoes as fine as any served by its more famous relatives. They were hot and greaseless and a marvel of culinary architecture. It is as if the slices of potato trigger a natural defense mechanism and puff up to scare of prey. Do not worry, they are no match for a hungry appetite.

Less good was the much vaunted shrimp Arnaud, which suffered from a surprising blandness. A few more scoops of mustard or horseradish or a jolt of lemon were sorely needed. Baked oysters were inconsistent with a handful cold under their various topping or suffering from muddled flavors. The soups deserve your attention, especially a comforting and spicy rendition of turtle soup and a smoky, herbal gumbo z'herbes which gives Ms. Leah Chase's version considerable competition.

Pompano, veal, trout, steaks, etc... fill out the entrees with solid execution and minimal fuss. Sweetbreads are plump and crispy by technique and salty and rich by design with a meuniere sauce and capers. The traditions of French Creole classics are strictly adhered to with mostly superior results.

This isn't to say Arnaud's escapes criticisms. For one thing, the wine list is stuck in pre-Neanderthal days. Whoever is buying wine needs to look around and realize there are wine drinkers who a) cant afford a blockbuster Bordeaux or b) aren't content to drink a grocery store white burgundy at restaurant prices. Service, based largely on its proximity to the tourist trade, tends to treat anyone as a visitor. It would be better to reverse this and treat as everyone as a local.

We skipped dessert opting instead for the comfort of an after dinner drink at the French 75 Bar. There among an ambiance of dirty jokes and cigar smoke, Chris Hannah runs probably the finest restaurant bar in the world. If you find a better one, please let me know.

Taken as a whole, Arnaud's is an absolutely delightful place to be proven wrong.

Arnaud's: Is It Worth It? Yes.
813 Rue Bienville
523-5433

French 75 Bar: Is It Worth It?

The biggest lie told by New Orleanians goes like this. "The French Quarter? I/we never go down there. That is for tourists." Look, I've said. You have too. But ask yourself this question, when was the last time you went to the Quarter and didn't run into another local you know? I'd venture to say that the period from mid-November through Mardi Gras sees more locals in the Quarter than any other time. Someone get Rigamer on line one to run a study.

The Quarter is full of gems. Hide outs from the t-shirt shops and Big Ass Hangovers. One of my favorite hangouts, located a mere thirty steps from Bourbon Street, is the French 75 Bar at Arnaud's. An elegant haunt with green and white tiles on the floor and accents of monkeys throughout, the French 75 Bar is one of the city's best cocktail dens.

Chris Hannah is the lead barmen there, a chap on who much has been written. He has a well-trained staff outfitted in white jackets and a polished demeanor. As an example of that well-rounded professionalism of the staff, on a recent cold Saturday afternoon visit, I ordered a Tom and Jerry from a kid who looked barely old enough to drive. Without missing a beat, he responded with, "Certainly. But it will just take a few moments for us to heat up the water."

When I was his age, I would have thought Tom and Jerry was a cartoonish shot. In reality, a Tom and Jerry may be the single best warm cocktail. It is a dichotomy in the glass. The top layer is a cool, creamy nutmeg spiced float of calm. You may think it is cream, but it is actually a "batter" not dissimilar from eggnog. Underneath the cold float is a rolling thunder of rum and bourbon heated with warm water. This is a delicious, addictive drink. Be glad there are only four days a year when the weather calls for drinking it (recipe below).

Of course, there is the drink named for French artillery of World War I. Gin (occasionally Cognac), champagne, lemon, and sugar is a powerful combination. And while I like all of those things, individually, this drink just doesn't do it for me. But don't let that deter you from continuing to lie about never going to the Quarter.

Tom and Jerry
recipe courtesy of Chris Hannah, French 75 Bar

1/4 oz of Myers Dark Rum
1 oz Wild Turkey
4 oz Hot Water
3 tbsp of Tom and Jerry Batter*
Nutmeg

Combine the rum, bourbon, and hot water in a coffee mug. Spoon the batter over the drink, and grate fresh nutmeg over the top.

French 75 Bar, worth it? Hell Yes.
813 Rue Bienville
504-523-5433

*While Arnaud's was more than willing to share their recipe for the Tom and Jerry cocktail, they would not reveal their recipe for the batter. You can find a recipe here, it should be fairly similar. Or you could  bribe someone in the know. Your call.

Winesday

Peter: White wine, well balanced. Neither too sweet nor too dry. Not going to guess the grape. Would go well with a classic shrimp remoulade from Arnaud's or turtle soup from Mandinas.

Rene: Green tinted, lip smacking wine with tropical fruit flavors and high acidity. This wine is a a picnic wine-which to me is exactly what I want to be drinking all summer long. I'd swing by Big Fisherman for some boiled shrimp or crawfish, convince a friend to get some oysters, and grab a sandwich with prosciutto, pesto, and melting mozzarella from a place like Tartine. I'd head to the Fly, open the wine, take off my shoes, graze, and watch the river move past.

Joe the Wine Guy: 2010 Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc, a shining example of a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Ripe peach, passionfruit, mango, juicy citrus, fennel and pastis greet you. The palate is rich and succulent with a zest citrus and apple-sherbet acidity that leads to a crisp finish. You can find it at Le Foret, Galatoire's, Muriels, The Ritz-Carlton, and International House Hotel. It retails for $25.