Guest Blogger: The Parisian Princess

Ladies, Gentlemen, and The Pope. This is our last entree in the 2009 BOGBTCPIBTTBESC. Peter has been furiously taking the La. Bar Exam this week, and except for an "episode" wherein he misplaced his lucky skinny jeans, he is surviving and likely will return to sanity soon. For our final entree, The Parisian Princess reviews a Fat City Gem.

Kanno

For over two years, I have heard my friend, who I will call ESPNola, rant and rave about the best sushi in New Orleans. Naturally, my thoughts were this place must be Uptown or in Midcity. But alas, I was mistaken. Not only was this “best sushi restaurant” located in Metairie, but it was also close to a series of convenience stores, dry cleaners, and strip clubs. It wasn’t exactly your ideal location for a good meal.

Nevertheless I was intrigued and decided to take my friend up on his invitation for dinner. The restaurant was small with a few guests scattered around two tables and the bar. Right off the bat, I noticed the chef, affectionately known as Elvis, who was chatting with customers and immediately asked ESPNola where his Mother was for the evening. One thing was clear: this place was for locals.

So, I sat down and looked at the specials. Names like the South Beach Roll and Elvis Roll peaked my interest. But in the end I decided to play it safe and order a special Lobster Roll and an old faithful, the Dragon Roll. The Lobster Roll came out first and immediately I was hooked. It was brimming with huge chunk of lobster resting on a roll of snowcrab and avocado. To top it off, it was drenched in eel sauce and a succulent cream sauce also known as “fantasy sauce”. I woofed down each grain of rice and speckle of sauce on the plate wishing the “fantasy” would never end.
My next order, the Dragon roll was good but pretty standard. Everything was “on point”: the eel sauce was sweet, the avocado was creamy, and the crab was firm.
However, it paled in comparison to ESPNola’s Godzilla Roll, pieces of tempura shrimp, snowcrab, and spicy tuna wrapped in rice paper with a heavy dose of fantasy sauce and a sprinkling of rice flakes. After only one bite, I knew that I would have to thank myself for my morning run and order another half order of Godzilla rolls.
To round out the evening, the waiter came by with pieces of chocolate that were sweet and creamy. It was the perfect ending to a great meal.
So the question remains, Is Kanno really the best sushi in New Orleans? The debate is still up in my book. But I wouldn’t mind crossing by signs for g-string divas and cheap beers again to eat some more of that fantasy sauce.

Guest Blogger: The Man in the Mirror

Blogger's Note: Unfortunately, we had no submissions for this week's Guest Blogger Thursday. But instead of Rene or I filling in, we decided to make each of you this week's guest blogger whether you like it or not. So allow yourselves to introduce... yourselves.

Do you want to make a change for once in your life? Come on. It's going to feel real good. It's going to make a difference. Make it right.

The polls have opened for Gambit's annual Best of New Orleans survey, and it is time for your voice to be heard so that any injustice may be corrected. Check out last year's list and tell me that you do not disagree with a few of the winners. Harrah's has the best buffet in the city? I think that I just threw up in my mouth. Bluebird Cafe is gone, so there will be a new best breakfast spot. Superior Grill wins best Mexican food and the best place to get salsa? Dong Phuong not one of the top 3 bakeries in the city? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

Of course there are other non-food related categories - for example, best local blog (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). But we would never pretend to be experts on the best place to buy lamps/lighting or know who the best real estate agent is.

So get voting. Make sure everyone knows where is the best place to buy a mattress. You must vote in at least 75 categories for your ballot to be valid.

It's up to you to make a difference. Start with the man in the mirror. Just remember: If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make that change.

Guest Blogger: The Folk Singer

Blogger's Note - The Folk Singer has decided to throw her hat in the ring in this summer's guest blogger challenge. In order to rise to the top, she will need a strong performance after last week's post by Real Big Tally stirred up so much controversy. So she decided to bring out the big guns and address a topic which most of us (unfortunately) have too much experience with. We're talking hangover helpers, people.

As a girl who hails from the same hometown as Krystal , I have been skeptical of this so-called "Kastleburger" ever since the re-opening of Tastee/McKenzie's in Lakeview. Krystal burgers are the go-to fourth meal in Chattanooga, and in my mind, there is no substitute.

When I woke up last Saturday morning with a headache that could only be attributed to one too many glasses of champagne at a Friday night wedding, Peter's promise of buttermilk drops sounded less than appealing. So, in the interest of curing my hangover writing a review for Blackened Out, I asked Peter to pick me up a Kastleburger (or three) and a side of fries.

Some people might prefer the hair of the dog as their morning after cure, but I have always been partial to something with a bit more sustenance. There is something ever-so comforting about those greasy little two-bite burgers and the simplicity of steamed onions, mustard and pickle. The Kastleburger almost lived up to its hype. I like my square-mini burgers with cheese, but I want to taste the cheese if it's there. The french fries were perfect, and after I'd finished my breakfast, suddenly Peter's leftover buttermilk drops weren't looking so bad after all. So I ate those too, decided that a three hour nap was in order, and went happily back to bed.

Bottom line: They may have been my first three Kastleburgers, but unless I can convince Peter to make a run to Krystal on Bourbon Street on Saturday morning, they definitely won't be my last.

It's no Krystal, but...

And that's worth more than a few points in this Tennessee girl's book.

Guest Blogger: Real Big Tally

This week we turn the blog over to Real Big Tally (RBT), a highly competitive basketball coach from up-river. He wears Riddell coaching pants and is found of saying things like "There is no i in team...but there is a me." He claims he found our blog by googling "getting wasted and cooking with bacon grease while watching food porn"

As the coach of a successful high school baseball team, I often find it difficult to take time to go out to eat. Fortunately, on the way home from our quarter final loss, the Athletic Director of our school told me that we were going to stop for dinner. Seeing as it was pretty late, I decided that I’d like to eat at my favorite restaurant in Baton Rouge.

We pulled into the parking lot at 10:00pm, and I could see that they were closing up shop inside. Here I was with a bus full of my players, and the restaurant was closed. Even worse, I wasn't going to be able to have my favorite spinach and artichoke dip for an appetizer either. So I proceeded to the door of the restaurant and, sure enough, it was locked. However, what did I see in the back? It was Jerry G. the manager, coming to the front door! Before I could ask him if we could get take out from the kitchen, he told me, "Come on in Coach, I'll fire up the oven for yall." I was floored. What an exciting turn of events. The only thing that wowed me more than this great customer service was the meal that lay ahead...

Having to play in Minden that afternoon, I was famished and requested this tapas platter that is one of my real favorites.

A scintillating array of fried, handmade mozzarella cheese; boneless, farm-raised chicken wings covered with a spicy wet rub; and mouthwatering quesadillas lined the outside of the plate. I was in heaven. Accompanied by three delicious sauces and an ooey gooey vegetarian dip (with tortilla chips for dipping), this tapas plate could easily be a meal. However, since I had to share with my assistant coaches, I still had enough room for an entrée.

So, what do I get? Well the riblets are usually just delicious and their fried seafood is awesome, but when I come here I know that I can get the best surf and turf in the country.

That’s right - sirloin steak and Maryland crab cakes. I am never comfortable ordering steak in a restaurant because of how I like it cooked, but have no fear, it came out perfectly well done. The consistency of the meat was delightful; it had a great chewiness to it so that I could savor the flavor of the meat in my mouth for an extended time. I guess my only complaint was that I had to ask them to bring some ketchup to my table to dip my steak in. Thankfully, Jamie (our waitress), was really helpful and pulled a bottle off of another table.

And the crab cakes? What can I say but WOW! Sure there were a couple rogue shells throughout, but I figure that’s pretty phenomenal when they have the fresh crabs delivered from the Atlantic every morning. Unfortunately, the remoulade mustard that accompanied the cakes was a little too spicy for my pallet. I’d have preferred something milder; I had to use the ketchup with the crab cakes too.

Now, you’ve got to be wondering, “RBT, did you have room for dessert?” OF COURSE I DID!!!

The Mudslide was great! My girlfriend, the head cheerleader, asked if I wanted to split this thing with her, but I had to say sorry honey, this bad boy’s all for me. Though I had a pretty good brain freeze after downing this drink in 5 minutes, I was wholly satisfied.

The meal was great. The service was awesome. My AD even picked up the tab for the entire team. I was a little upset that they automatically added the gratuity to the bill (I mean, let me decide if I want to tip 15% or not, I would have anyway); but I couldn’t complain. So, if you’re in Baton Rouge and want to enjoy a high quality meal for yourself, check out Applebee’s on Old Hammond and Airline Highway.

Guest Blogger: McCall

This week the blog turns over the reins to a pregnant lady who makes some bold claims about pregnancy and food. While we can not vouch for her claims that being pregnant is harder than running a blog for a year and a half, it does sound like at least there is good food involved. Maybe Peter should try it. Ohh wait, you can't drink? Nevermind. Women, keep up the good work.

Eating for Two

So I am pregnant. I’m not yet BIG and pregnant…but I’m sure I’ll be waddling from here to there soon enough. One thing I’ve noticed since that fateful day the stick turned blue is that women who are pregnant or who were pregnant (aka, mothers) love to talk about their pregnancy and all the wonderful, and not so wonderful, experiences involved in carrying their heir for ten months (that’s right, boys…pregnancy is TEN months, not nine). One constantly recurring theme in these unsolicited nuggets of wisdom is food and eating and especially cravings. Well, here are my own McNuggets of wisdom, thus far…

“I want it NOW!” – I’ve always been a rather patient person…downright polite most of the time. I often put others’ needs above my own. But lately, I have been drained of all my patience when it comes to eating. (Hey, I am putting my baby’s needs first right?) I would like to explain to you the immediacy of hunger when you are pregnant. It’s really quite hard to put in to words. It’s hormonal; it’s irrational; and it’s very, very real. One Thursday I was working from home when all of the sudden I was starving. S-T-A-R-V-I-N-G. As it was only 10:30 a.m. and I had already consumed a bowl of oatmeal, a string cheese, a banana, and a cup of yogurt, I could not understand why I was so hungry. I didn’t know what to do. So, what did I do? I started crying. That’s right. There I was sitting in front of my computer, sobbing. My husband was on the golf course, so I couldn’t call him…not that he would be particularly understanding. So, I called my mom. She understood. She told me to stay where I was; she was coming. Twenty minutes later, we were in the car together heading to Casa Garcia for chips and bean dip. It was great. I wanted to cry I was so happy and satisfied; but then again, I think I had cried enough over food for one day.

The Best Thing Ever – Pickles and ice cream, right? Well that just sounds disgusting to me. However, I have discovered that pregnancy cravings are totally legit. While I have not craved anything particularly odd, I have noticed that when a craving strikes, I can think of NOTHING ELSE. I happened to have a craving for a cheeseburger a couple weeks ago. I was set to meet a good friend for lunch that day and insisted we go to Times for a cheeseburger. We sat down and before the waitress could ask for our drink order I told her I needed (that’s right, needed) a cheeseburger as soon as possible. When the burger arrived all conversation stopped. I needed all my concentration for that cheeseburger. Had my friend not recently joined the ranks of parenthood, I am pretty sure he would have been terrified or offended by the manner in which I devoured the cheeseburger. My usual Emily Post-like manners have occasionally taken a backseat to my indulgences these days. Now, the best part about these cravings is the way I feel when I have indulged…it is without a doubt the most satisfied feeling I have ever had (I feel like I should apologize to my husband after that statement). There are some pretty rotten side effects that come with pregnancy – morning sickness, a protruding belly (bye-bye feet), swollen ankles – but in my opinion that unexplainable feeling of satisfaction makes up for them all.

OK, ONE Odd Craving - I hate peaches. I detest them. I hate the way they smell, the way they taste, the way they feel. I always have; I figured I always would. That is until last week at the grocery store. As I perused the product department at Rouse’s I detected this irresistible aroma. To my surprise, it was a new display of peaches. How could this be? I have hated peaches since I was a child. I feel they have no redeeming qualities (yes, I realize I am likely alone in this sentiment). But there I was, standing before a massive display of fresh peaches…craving one. So, what did I do? I ate one. Yep, I couldn’t help myself. Right then and there in the middle of the produce department at my local Rouse’s I grabbed that dreaded fruit and I devoured it. And it was delicious. So, sorry Rouse’s…I owe you a peach.

PS – I still hate peaches.

Guest Blogger: The Parisian Princess

Competition is getting fierce! After 3 weeks, Helvetia Homemaker is ahead. This week another entree from the Parisian Princess. As always, these are actual submissions by real people, and not just pen names Peter and Rene use occasionally. Send in yours today, win lunch.

Traveler’s Journey: A Tale of Another City

New York City, like New Orleans, is a food lover’s paradise. Nowhere else in the world with the exception of the tacky Epcot in Disney World can you experience so many cultures in one place. If you want some Peking duck, go to Chinatown. If you are craving a cannoli, head down to Little Italy. Are you in the mood for some chicken curry? Then take a trip to Murray aka “Curry” Hill. From pizza to pierogies, New York has got it all.

For me, the best always comes back to one place: France. Call me a snob, an elitist, a traitor, but in the world of cuisine, no one does it better than the French. As I write this, I envision many of you rolling your eyes and sighing in horror thinking that I am about to deliver a monologue on why French food is supreme. Chances are you probably think that I am going to mention savory dishes like foie gras wrapped in a puff pastry and topped with a delicate cream sauce. But I am not here to elaborate or honor famous French chefs. I am here to talk about food, and by "food" I mean meat: man’s best friend.

As any traveler will tell you, the heart of the French bistro lies in one dish: Steak Frites. To recreate this dish anywhere outside of Paris or its neighboring cities is a daunting task for any chef. But luckily some are up for the challenge. So I decided to press my luck and search for this dish in New York City. In the Big Apple, perhaps no one knows more about the art of steak frites than the culinary bad-ass, Anthony Bourdain.

On a recent trip to the legendary restaurant Les Halles, I had the pleasure of experiencing classic French fare. Bourdain spent years working at Les Halles before moving on to the bright lights of food writing, television production, and generally becoming the envy of foodies around the world.

To mix it up, I ordered the N.Y. strip with a side of béarnaise and a generous portion of crispy golden fries. The meat was tender and juicy, and when paired with the rich and creamy sauce, this protein re-affirmed the reason why I could never be a vegetarian. The french fries were salty with a sweet aftertaste of butter, which my best friend and fellow foodie, Fifi Frank, assured me was from frying the potatoes in duck fat. This meal may have temporarily spiked my cholesterol levels, but it was worth the consequences.

To top off the evening, I chose a warm chocolate and banana tart with a generous helping of whipped cream. It was the perfect rich and decadent dessert to end my dining experience. I left the restaurant pleasantly full and satisfied. My faith in the ability of American chefs to recreate French classics was solidified. Thank you, Bourdain, the crew at Les Halles, and God Bless America!

Guest Blogger: For a Good Cause

Blogger's Note: Today's "Guest Thursday" report is written by the Helvetia Homemaker, a close friend of my sister. She highlights an event this Sunday which by attending you can pay back the kindness that so many strangers extended to us almost 4 years ago.
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At Southport Hall on Sunday from 4-8pm, a fundraiser will be held at Southport Hall to benefit the victims of the earthquake that hit L'Aquila, Italy on April 6th.

The strongest part of the earthquake actually occurred in the village of Paganica. My grandmother Luigia, who passed away last December at the age of 99, and her husband Ugo built the house that you see above in the town of Paganica (population of about 5000) which is on the outskirts of the capital of L'Aquila (population 10,000) in the region of Abruzzo. They had 5 children in the house, the youngest of whom is Alessandro, a/k/a Sandro of Sandro's Trattoria, a/k/a my Dad. My grandparents came to New Orleans in the 1950s in search of a better life, and their house was then rented out to either family members or others in the town. There are seven other cousins and their families who stayed in Paganica.

No one has been allowed back in town because of the ongoing tremors - they had three yesterday. Apparently the initial earthquake's fault didn't hit deep enough so that there is more gas that needs to escape. (I am sure there is a more scientific way to say that.) The government will not allow anyone back to their homes or to assess any damage until the town is tremor-free for one month.

My Dad and I went on WWOZ yesterday to talk about the fundraiser with Bradley Blanchard. Something interesting that came up was likening this experience to that of Katrina, especially in regard to government ineptitude. After Katrina there were various church groups and other organizations that came by the hundreds to help those in need. This event is similar in respect to communities coming together quickly to help those now - not later. There are still representatives from New Orleans that work hard not to let anyone in Washington forget what happened in N.O., which is exactly what we are trying to do for Paganica. There has been little international coverage since a week after the earthquake, so we would like everyone to know that these people are still in need. You can help not only by purchasing a ticket to the event but also by donating, which can be done long after the fundraiser.

We still have family in this region whose homes, businesses, and possessions have been destroyed. The earthquake caused about $16 billion in damages in addition to destroying some of Italy's oldest structures. There has been some funding going to L'Aquila, but almost none going to the village of Paganica. The money raised from the Paganica Earthquake Relief Fund will go directly to the Pieri and Iovenitti families (and, depending on how much we raise, to many more) to help them survive while they rebuild.

At Southport Hall this Sunday, May 31st the party is on! The venue, food, and drink for the fundraiser have been graciously donated by various merchants, many who have strong Italian roots. Because my Dad's cooking is reminiscent of what he grew up with - it only seemed right for him to prepare the food. Trust me, you will not be dissappointed. The menu is listed below. Please see the website for information on the fundraiser, ways to donate to the cause, and how to buy tickets to the event.

Antipasto Table
Caponata Bruschetta
Mozzarella, Mushroom and Spinach Bruschetta
Grilled Italian Sausage
Assorted Cheeses, Olives, Meats and Fruit

Insalata Table
Caesar Salad with Foccacia Croutons
Green Salad with Herbed Vinaigrette

Primo Piatto Table
Sautéed Shrimp Primavera with Garlic Butter Risotto
Vera’s Meatballs with Penne Pasta and Salsa Rosa
Pork and Beef Cacciatore with Assorted Mushrooms and Ziti Pasta

Dolci Table
Irish Tiramisu
Assorted Biscotti
Brocato’s Canoli
Italian Tres Latte

Guest Blogger: The Parisian Princess

Blogger's Note - The Parisian Princess, a/k/a Peter's sister, is a world renown gastronome, having lived in Paris for a year and traveled extensively throughout Europe. In this guest blog appearance, she recounts a tale from her latest jump across the pond. Don't hate the player, hate the game. To get your article up for consideration, send via email to blackenedout.

On a recent trip to Germany for my graduate school survey of international art markets,* I decided to do some gastronomy research. Being a natural FBA, aka foodie by association, due to my shared genetics with the culinary co-master of Blackened Out, Peter, I sought the expertise of a higher power. In this case that power was no other than the man himself, Anthony Bourdain.

In his travel series "No Reservations," Bourdain circles the globe in search of food, culture, and adventure. In order to pick the best of Berlin, I consulted Bourdain's homepage and printed out his culinary "to do" list. I selected one restaurant in particular, Konnopke's, which Tony visited to enjoy the German speciality, currywurst. Currywurst is a regional dish of Berlin originating from the 1930s that consists of chopped sausage topped with ketchup and curry powder and served with a side of fries. It can be found almost anywhere in the city, but according to Bourdain, Konnopke's is the original and best currywurst spot in the city.

The scene outside Konnopke's

So on a nice, sunny day in Berlin, I set out in search of currywurst. What seemed like a short pleasant trip turned into a meandering journey through the broken, back streets of the city. After getting lost several times and walking for over an hour, I finally arrived at my location. To my horror and dismay, Konnopke's, the temple of currywurst was closed for a local holiday. Tired, hungry, and extremely agitated, I made the decision to forget Bourdain and his closed "elitist" currywurst stand for the next best thing. I located another little restaurant next to Konnopke's that was open and offered currywurst on the menu. Sure, I was settling for second tier grub, but what harm could there be? The currywurst looked okay and other people were eating it. So I took the plunge and ordered the currywurst with fries and side of ketchup and headed for the nearest subway.
The food looked good and it tasted fine. But later, I would realize just how wrong my rash decision was. Within four hours, my stomach felt like it was being twisted into a German pretzel. The whole experience culminated in World War III of food poisoning in which I had to get up every 20 minutes to run to the bathroom. I spent 20 hours in Berlin laying in bed, sick as a dog and missed a whole day of traveling. All because I thought I could cheat the system. So lesson learned: Do as Bourdain does and don't accept culinary imitations. The best is there for a reason, all others need not apply. Thanks to my German experience, I will never look at sausage the same way again. Well, except for maybe some boudin when I go back home. I am from New Orleans after all, aren't I???

-The Parisian Princess-

* Editor's note: International Art's Market's Studies? Where the hell was this booth at Career Day? This doesn't even sound real.

Guest Blogger: The Xainey

Our first entry into the 2009 Blackened Out Guest Blogging Thursdays Cause Peter is Busy Taking the Bar Exam Seriously Competition (BOGBTCPIBTTBESC) comes from Dr. Xainey. Here, Dr. Xainey submits his recipe for his take on Tommy's Fish Capri. Remember whichever article gets the most hits wins, so if you like it get others to visit.

Inspiration for Mother's Day

One of the things that makes or breaks many of the restaurants in New Orleans is what they are able to do with the fresh local seafood. In such a great area, we have access to some of the freshest and tastiest fish in the world. One of the most common things restaurants do is a pan sautéed fish which is then served with various sauces (beurre blanc, Meuniere etc), fresh veggies, lump crabmeat, etc.

Tommy’s is one of my mom’s favorite places to eat as she is a huge fan of the Fish Capri. The fish is pan sautéed then topped with crabmeat, crawfish, capers, artichokes in a beurre blanc sauce. Since I am unable to cook for the family on mother’s day this year (on call in Houma – thanks Chabert), I had the family over for dinner and used this recipe as my inspiration for the evening.

Started off with some bruschetta. Quick, simple, and just about always impresses. Start with some crostini, top with a slice of pepperoni, mozzarella, roma tomato, olive oil; 400° for 10 minutes. Try not to fill up on it.
While you’re prepping those tiny pieces of bread, stick some asparagus in that oven and roast them. When done, cool, wrap the bundles in prosciutto, add a green onion knot for stability. Pop back in for a bit before serving.

I had a tough decision on which seafood to throw on top the fish, but I decided on some local shrimp. Onion, celery, and bell pepper into pan; garlic, then the shrimp. White wine and butter until you have the consistency you want. Toss in the capers.
Under the fish, stick some vegetables. Mushrooms, artichokes, and baby spinach into a pan – 5 minutes and you’ve got the base.
I had some trouble finding the right fish to be the center of this dish. Between the feds and intern year, its damn near impossible to get any snapper. Also my year hasn’t been amenable to dropping everything and going fishing (my freezer is suffering), so I had to hit the store. After too much shopping around - found some nice drum fillets, giggity. Little flour, sauté.

Plate it up – veggies, fish, shrimp sauce on top. Asparagus on the side.
Served it with a 2007 Valley of the Moon Chardonnay; or since parts of my fam only drink red, they brought a 2007 Cakebread Cabernet – I didn’t complain.

Result – Family impressed

Total kitchen time – 1.5 hrs