A Rant: Treme Sucks

I gave Treme a shot for its first two seasons. This was mainly because I failed to believe, or wanted to believe, that the same group behind The Wire could be this awful at telling one of the easiest and most compelling stories of the young 21st Century. Early on Treme focused on telling the culinary side of the Katrina epic. Most importantly, telling it correctly. They even brought in Anthony Bourdain, to consult in order to make the restaurant and kitchen scenes authentic.

Unfortunately and infuriatingly, they got the post-Katrina culinary story as wrong as a well done steak. I stopped watching after episode 1 of Season 3 and here is why.

According to Treme, Janette Desautel owned a popular Uptown-ish restaurant prior to Katrina. After Katrina, her restaurant was able to re-open quickly and she soon had dining rooms full of New Orleans locals and world-class chefs. Then boom, she runs out of money and has to close.

STOP RIGHT THERE

If a restaurant was able to open fairly quickly after Katrina and you were a good enough chef to attract Colicchio and Chefs, you would not have ever closed due to lack of money. End of discussion. First of all, you would have been booked solid. Any no shows would promptly be replaced by people waiting in the bar. The citizenry of New Orleans took to open restaurants like a moth to flame. Mostly, this can be attributed to many people not having kitchens at home, so dining out became the default option.

Secondly, people were going out to chat with neighbors, learn about insurance hangups, socialize and drink. Guess what is one of the leading revenue and profit drivers of a restaurant? Ding, Ding, Ding, booze. So a restaurant may have been only able to serve meatloaf or chicken salad, but they would have sold say $50 of cocktails or wine per table. Expenses would have been lower as labor costs were limited by the simple unavailability of it. While Janette may not have been able to buy a Porsche, she would have been able to keep the lights on and the doors open.

Thirdly, the logical thing for chefs in New Orleans was to expand after Katrina. In all reality, Desautel would have had a second restaurant under construction and plans for a charcuterie line within one year after Katrina. Did anyone on Treme's much vaunted writing staff even pick up the phone and talk with a New Orleans chef?

After losing her restaurant, Desautel then exiles herself to New York. She throws a drink at Alan Richman, works for David Chang, and eventually feels the tug back to New Orleans. Make no mistake what the implication is here. It is not that she wanted to leave New Orleans; or start over. That happened and still happens with chefs, lawyers, plumbers, teachers, you name it. What Treme implies, with a heavy hand, is that Janette had to go to New York to be a better chef and businesswomen. That a chef in New Orleans just isn't skilled enough to be successful at running a "real" restaurant.

You see, she was just a hayseed. Just a Cajun-Creole girl who gosh darn it could cook well enough for New Orleans before Katrina, but not after. The Richman drink throwing scene was completely undone, by proving his point throughout the rest of Treme: that New Orleans isn't a good town for chefs or food. According to Treme, in order to be legitimized, Desautel needed the blessing of the New York Chef Mafia. She needed to learn about hydrocolloids or cooking with pork fat under the tutelage of the chefs Treme's writers think are important. This is such utter horseshit.

New York is an excellent restaurant town, to be sure. And there is always something to learn from others, but spare us the protective custodian of helpless New Orleans angle. We didn't need your blessing, and we certainly did not need you dumping the lower half of Williamsburg into the Bywater like a trash barge looking for a port.

You got the story wrong. You got it horribly wrong. Why don't you just shift it and put Desautels in a food truck slinging free range goat ramen in the parking lot of a Brooklyn haberdasher. Worse you already explored this exact "New York as the gateway to New Orleans" story with Delmond Lambreaux. On top of being incorrect, it is redundant. Your story of New Orleans' culinary reemergence after Katrina is about New York, not about anything that happened down here.

Before you jump down the comment throat and say, "Lighten up, its TV," that isn't the point. Reality TV is staged, sitcoms and dramas are written, Treme attempted to be some adaptation of what happened in New Orleans. The restaurant industry in New Orleans doesn't get enough credit for what it did after Katrina. It offered refuge, sustenance, and socialization when they could have tucked and ran or hid behind their aprons. Instead of heading to New York or Atlanta or Houston, the chefs, cooks, waiters, and bartenders of New Orleans returned and rebuilt. For that they deserve our gratitude and an honest assessment of their story. Treme failed to do so.

Dueling Bloggers: How Much Is It Worth To You? (Part I)

Rene: Got your reservation at Arzak yet?
Peter: Yeah, but probably going to cancel.
Rene: Don't. You will regret it.

I have never been one to wince at spending a few dollars on a fine meal. During law school summer school in Lyon, I made it to 4 out of the 6 restaurants run by Paul Bocuse, including his flagship in Collonges. I celebrated my second to last semester in law school by dining at The French Laundry during the week before finals. (Wow, those pictures are awful.) And when I tally up my expenses every year for my tax return, The Folk Singer usually has a few comments about how many starving children in Africa that we could feed with the amount of money that I spent on food in the previous calendar year.

In anticipation of our upcoming trip to Madrid and Basque country, months ago I began the ritual of research and debate as to where we would be dining during our week long journey. My first stop is always whichever episode of No Reservations features Bourdain's visit to our area of travel, and any certified fan boy of Tony immediately knows that his not-so-secret dream is to be adopted into the family of Juan Mari Arzak. So while we would have counted ourselves lucky to eat at Mugaritz or Akellare, we have decided on Arzak for our blowout meal of the trip.

Or did we? Once we settled on where the main event would be held, I began scouting potential locations for the undercard rounds. You know, the other 12 meals that we will presumably eat in Spain. And a funny thing happened during my research: I became more excited about the hundreds of tapas and pintxos bars that I read about than I did anticipating what could be the meal of a lifetime at Arzak. And I started to wonder: With only 2 days in San Sebastian on the agenda, was I willing to sacrifice precious tapas crawl and general exploration time to spend a significant amount of time and money on one meal?

The answer to that question is still to be determined. The Folk Singer has vowed to go with the flow, though she is perfectly happy with drinking cava and eating jamón ibérico de bellota and patatas bravas for 6 days. Rene's opinion is encapsulated in the opening paragraph - a once in a lifetime meal is just that, so embrace the moment while you can. (He will offer his thoughts tomorrow in Part II.) And as I said before, I am still undecided.

But in the process of weighing my decision, I have come to a few conclusions on how to measure the "value" or "worth" of a meal, based on my past experiences.

First, unlike women's shoes and handbags, price is not the determinative factor. I have paid $10 for meals that were better values than spending $150 on foie gras and roasted venison, and that's not because the more expensive food sucked. Certain eating experiences just fit when it comes to the mood of the parties, the reason for celebrating, the expectations, and numerous other factors. A dozen raw oysters and a cold bar can be the most fulfilling dining experience man can ever want, if a dozen raw oysters and a cold bar is what man so desires. On the flip side, a high price tag brings high expectations, and one cannot help but determine value in terms of dollars spent. Will a meal at Arzak be 8 times more fulfilling than an evening of munching on croquetas and pulpo al ajillo and drinking bottles of txakoli?

Second, "once in a lifetime" applies to meals at every price point. The chances of me having another opportunity to eat at Arzak are the same as me having another opportunity to eat tapas at La Cuchara de San Telmo a few blocks away. The unknown factor is the same for both - my only knowledge of either comes from accounts produced by other people. So who is to say that I would not receive more joy from one than the other? The potential level of regret, however, would be much higher for a restaurant like Arzak, which has been lauded and anointed by the wise souls at Michelin. After reading a number of the "I Ate At El Bulli Pieces", I got the sense of what "once in a lifetime" really meant, at least to the authors.

It's a tough decision, and one that will likely not be made until a few days before we make the drive from Madrid to San Sebastian. So I ask: WWBORD? How much is it worth to you?

Summer Reading Happened So Fast

Fact: Summertime is the busiest and most active season for travel (Source: The Internet).

Hopefully you have a trip, vacation or travel planned in the next few months to relax and rejuvenate your soul. And of course prepare you for another football season filled with coaches eating grass while starting a quarterback that only plays well in B tier Bowl Games. But I digress.

Now wait you might be saying, trips, vacations, and travel, isn't that the same thing? No. They are each different and require a different book to maximize the experience. So without bidding you further adieu, here is the Blackened Out Guide to Leaving Where You Live and Reading Gooder.

A Trip-  Trips have a specific purpose and oftentimes they are not how you would choose to use your frequent flyer miles. Out of town weddings, visiting relatives, or going to a doll convention are examples of trips. For this, you want a book that allows you to get absorbed into someone else's more fanciful life. For that, Anthony Bourdain's Medium Raw is a perfect fit. This collection of essays explores food, but perhaps more subtly the changes Bourdain has gone through since becoming a star. Throughout the book I noticed a tinge of regret, that maybe what Bourdain wishes he would have become one of the chefs he has spoken so effusively of over the last 10 years. His piece of Justo the fish butcher at Le Bernardin is worth the price of admission alone. Plus, it is in hardback which means your Aunt will probably think you are really smart.

The Vacation- From the early Latin word for "chill out", a vacation is somewhere you go to get away from it all. Key distinction about a vacation is that the location hardly matters. For instance, you can take a beach vacation in Florida, Biloxi, St. Maarten, the Eastern Shore, Malibu, Hawaii, or Dubai and it will be almost exactly the same. There is lounging in the sun, maybe a round of golf for the sporting types, a fishing excursion for those who are into torture, and the drinking of copious amounts of cold, alcoholic beverages. Same goes for things like skiing, bird watching, and spelunking. For a vacation, I like to read historical crap, something with a story arch, but not anything with dragons or vampires. This way when you return from your vacation, you aren't totally braindead and can add something to your Monday night trivia team. Thus, read The Food of a Younger Land by Mark Kurlansky. First, the backstory, during the Great Depression, the government hired a bunch of writers to chronicle what people were eating in America. The manuscripts were due in December 1941. Cue World War II, and the manuscripts sat untouched for over 60 years, before Mr. Kurlansky unearthed them and published the series.

Travel - Travel is the most intense of all wanderings. It is when you put yourself in an unfamiliar land and immerse yourself in the culture of others. It can be frustrating, it can be rewarding, and it should be challenging. No all inclusive or guided tours here. You blaze your own trail, eat native foods, and drink wine you can't pronounce. You need a book that echoes that adventure. Which is why you should read Jacques Pepin's incredible book The Apprentice. In this book, Pepin chronicles a lifetime spent cooking and learning how to cook. Consider it a front row seat for why food matters in America again.

Guilty Pleasures

From all of the pomp and circumstance here at Blackened Out Abstractors and Hunting Lodge, you readers may get the impressions that all of our meals consist of luxurious fare such as guanciale from hand-fed Mangalista pigs, risotto covered with an avalanche of truffles flown over from Alba, and wines made from grapes crushed by Robert Peyton. But in reality, even though we love veggies from the Hollygrover market and organic beef raised by Justin Pitts, sometimes a guy just wants to eat a big bowl of velveeta shells and cheese.

We all have our own guilty pleasures when it comes to foods that we would might other be embarrassed to admit our undying love for if it were not for the fact that they taste so damn good. Take, for example, Exhibit A above. If a person's choice of birthday cake speaks volumes of his or her personal taste, then what does it say about me when The Folk Singer knows that all I want is a cookie cake covered with enough frosting to keep an entire class of kindergartners on a Charlie Sheenesque sugar high for 3 days straight. (Winning.) Sweets are a hot target for guilty pleasures, and even professionals will admit that they easily succumb to their temptations. I once asked a well known pasty chef if he ever got tired of preparing and eating macaroons and valrhona chocolates, and after glancing around to make sure that no one else was listening he said: "I keep a box of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls in the back of the fridge at all times."

But guilty pleasures of the savory variety are not to be overlooked. Anthony Bourdain often jokes about his love for mac and cheese from KFC, and how he dons a hooded sweatshirt in Colonel Sanders' kitchen in order to protect his identity. While no respecting New Orleanian would ever forsake Popeye's for the secret blend of 11 herbs and spices, I will admit that I have made a run for the border on countless late night adventures for Mexican Pizzas and Double Decker Taco Supremes. Though in recent times, the allure of Krystal Burger has sucked us in during a few walks home from the Quarter.

So bad, yet they taste so good. Let us know about your own guilty pleasures in today's comments. There will be no judging.

An Evening With Anthony Bourdain

Last Thursday I was one of the many who heard Anthony Bourdain speak at the Mahalia Jackson Theater. We scored 4 seats on Row E in the orchestra, from where The Folk Singer took this picture. The Pope and the Battle House Honey completed my foursome.

Though there was no intermission, the event was effectually divided into two parts: (1) Bourdain's "speech" and (2) a Q&A session with the audience. After a brief introduction by someone whose name I don't recall, Bourdain appeared from behind the curtain - Abita Amber in hand - and just started talking. His delivery seemed shoot-from-the-hip, but he occasionally glanced at his notes on the podium. The Q&A session consisted mostly of individuals ingratiating themselves over "hitchhiking through Bolivia" and other culinary or worldy lifetime milestones.

While it was a different experience than when I met him, I very much enjoyed the event. He delivered several memorable quotes, some of which I have reproduced below for your reading pleasure. I left the show early to catch the 2nd half of the BCS Championship Game, so if you were there and remember anything worthwhile that I may have missed, please feel free to add them in the comments.

• On Sandra Lee - The most frightening moment of my life? Meeting Sandra Lee. I'm standing there talking to someone, and I feel this cold hand on my lower back and hear, 'You've been a bad boy.' It didn't help that her boyfriend Andrew Cuomo, the New York State Attorney General, was standing right behind her.... Do yourself a favor and google 'Sandra Lee Kwanzaa Cake.' Ron Jeremy has never done such a thing in his life.


• On Guy Fieri - Take the douche glasses off the back of your neck.


• On Ina Garten - I like Ina.... I don't want to spend the weekend at Ina's house, but, man, can she roast a chicken.


• On Andrew Zimmern - We have a lot in common. For example, he was a junkie; I was a junkie.


• On Iron Chef America - You have these great chefs making this great f*cking food and then who's judging? Criss Angel: Mind Douche.


• On Judging Top Chef - After eating scallops in butterscotch sauce, I said: 'This tastes like I've been felching Mrs. Butterworth'.... Tom Colicchio keeps it totally honest.... It sometimes takes 3 hours to judge the final round.... Underneath the table there are shaker size glasses of gin and tonics, and the weed is pretty good there too.


• On Cooking At Home - I look to cook pasta. Spaghetti pormodoro.


• On Nutmeg - Written permission should be required before any cook is allowed to use it.


• On His Personality - I've been talking shit since I was a kid.


• On His Wife's Italian Heritage - The only thing that Italians hate more than Americans is Italians from the next village over.


• On Eating While Traveling - You can't plan the perfect meal. It just happens. And it's never going to happen if you don't accept the fact that things are going to wrong sometimes.


• On 'No Reservations' - I am destroying paradise by visiting it.


• In Response to a Request for Support of the Edible Schoolyard - I don't know if I want my children spending all of their time in the garden. I think they should be learning engineering and world domination.


• On What He Ate That Day - Someone put two Hubig's pies in my room. I had the choice between apple and sweet potato. [He chose poorly.]


• On What He Would Be Eating That Night - I'm calling in an order to Verti Marte.


• On Filming Food TV - We're not like everybody else. We show up early. We eat. We're drinking the local hooch. And by the time we start shooting, we're all friends. I tell them, 'Look, we're not alcoholic's. We're television f*cking professionals.'

C'est Magnifique

Y'all already know how much I enjoyed my time in France, so I need not recount the reasons why. But for you other Francophiles out there (or anyone interested in a dry run for a future trip abroad), I suggest you try Chateau du Lac on Metairie Road.

OK, so they use a dry erase board for the daily specials instead of the ubiquitous chalkboard of France. And the prices are a tad higher than those at the bouchons of Lyon. Still, if you enjoy classical French food (read "not Creole"), everything else just fades into the background.

Portions are, for the most part, modest. All the more reason to order an appetizer. We started with a charcuterie plate - all made in house - which included rabbit terrine, pork rilletes, and pate. The petite marmite consisted of scallops and shiitake mushrooms in an intense seafood sauce flavored with tomato and black pepper, the remnants of which is a great dip for the french fries. The classic endive salad with raisins, grapes, pecans and gorgonzola was expertly composed with the perfect balance of ingredients.

I hate to admit this, but my Mom crushed me when it came to ordering entrees. Not that my blanquette de veau was bad, but her choice was so fantastic that it overshadowed everything else on the table. Open-faced sliced sirloin sandwich with sauteed onions and bearnaise. This knife and fork sandwich comes with an accompanying green salad and a basket of french fries for the bargain price of $12. Someone at the next table ordered the cassoulet, which looked equally as scrumptious. But with pork belly, sausage, and duck confit, how can you go wrong?

Have you ever seen the inaugural No Reservations episode in Paris? Tony goes to lunch at Chez Denise and finishes with baba au rhum for dessert. Well, the one at Chateau du Lac is not near as large as the one Tony ate, but it's still fortified with plenty of rum, which you can see pooling as a syrup in the bottom of the dish.

'

Just one of many examples of why the French don't suck.

'

Chateau du Lac - Birdie

Little Tokyo Two Step

People are always claiming that one location of a restaurant is better than another. (This happens all the time with Drago's.) Sometime this preference bears specifically on ambience or geographic location, but personnel probably plays the biggest role, especially in the back of the house. In Kitchen Confidential Bourdain explained how the goal of a line cook is to perfectly reproduce a dish in the exact same way every time a customer orders it. So even though like ingredients may be arriving through the delivery door, what eventually ends up on the table could differ widely depending on whose doing the cooking in between.

Little Tokyo on Causeway was where I had my first ever sushi experience, but the Mid-City location has been my default choice for raw fish since it opened. I'm not exactly sure whether the two restaurants source their fish from the same place, especially because the Carrollton location makes special note that it flies fish in weekly from the Tsukiji Market in Tokyo.

This is the "Six Brothers Sushi" from Little Tokyo on Causeway. Fresh tuna and salmon curled around a bit of snowcrab, rolled in rice paper, and topped with a heaping spoonful of colorful masago. Perfect for the carb conscious looking for something more than sashimi.

Here we have the "Japanese Style Chips and Dip" from Little Tokyo on Carrollton. The dip part is just a mound of the mixture which comes in the Dynamite Roll - chopped tuna and salmon (perhaps a little whitefish) mixed with sriracha and the tiniest bit of mayo. The chips are fried yuca sprinkled with salt and drizzled with ponzu sauce. I absolutely loved this. It's $13, but this is a hefty amount of fish.

My preference? Mid-City. First, this location is extremely clean - a factor which carries more weight with me when it comes to eating raw fish. But most importantly I find that Mid-City has a wider selection of fish and a more creative menu (with dishes like the above chips and dip). What say you?

Little Tokyo Causeway - Par
Little Tokyo Carrollton - Birdie

My Walk With Bourdain

“You at the Rio Mar party? Is that tonight? Bourdain is there.”

Rewind: Thursday night Rio Mar had a “kegger, Basque-style” where Chef Adolfo tapped a cask of txakoli and planned on pouring the whole thing. I made reservations to go with a large group, but they all backed out and so I canceled too. Instead, I wound up with Triple B and two others at Sukho Thai, where I received the above text message from Rene.

Upon reading this message, I immediately called for the check and headed for Rio Mar. Triple B decided to tag along too. When we arrived, there were far fewer people than I expected, and the cask of txakoli was long gone. “Is Bourdain here?” I asked. “Yep. He’s in the main dining room,” replied a waiter. “Really cool guy. Go get a picture.”

I waited next to the greeting stand while Triple B powdered her nose in anticipation of her glamour shot, but next thing you know Anthony was strolling past me on his way out. I stopped him, said hello, and asked for a picture, to which he graciously obliged. Triple B was right behind me and snapped one of her own.

So now what? We walked outside to contemplate our next move, and Anthony said goodbye to his companions and made his way down Julia toward the river. “We should have asked him if he wanted to get a drink,” I said. On our walk back to the car, we noticed Anthony standing on the corner waiting for a cab. This was one of those moments. I wish I could say that I played it cool instead of acting like a 1980s Aerosmith groupie reincarnate, but we were basically stumbling over ourselves to catch him before he left. I sent Triple B in first because as a member of the light-haired female tribe, she is much more convincing than I.

“Do you want to go get a drink with us?” she asked.

“No, I am exhausted,” Anthony smilingly replied. “I’ve been on this corner for 5 minutes and already 3 people have stopped and said, ‘Hey, you gotta go to this bar.’ Plus I have a flight to Prague in the morning.... How do you catch a cab around here? When the light is on, that means there is already somebody in there?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you a cab,” I offered.

“I’m staying at the W next to the casino,” he said, " but I have no idea where I am."

“Well, that’s right there,” I pointed. “We’ll walk you over.”

So we walked. And talked. Anthony told us that he was in town to meet with writers for “the coolest f*cking thing on television,” but he was tight-lipped on the details. We told him how great it was for him to film an episode here back in 2007. I asked him what he thought about the food at Domilise's, to which he responded, “You know, you can probably get a better tasting po-boy elsewhere, but that place has history. It's been open for a long time, and it was perfect for our show. It’s the neighborhood and the people which makes that place great.”

He asked if I had ever been to Prague, and I told him yes. “How’s the food?” he asked. “Eh,” was my reply. “That’s what everyone else has told me,” he said. We talked about his daughter and how she loved olives and sardines and everything salty, and how when he gets back to New York his wife is going to handover the reigns for a while because she has been on solo duty for long enough.

But mostly we talked about New Orleans and what a special place it is. He asked if we had grown up here and told us how great it was that we stayed. “Every time I come here, it’s like a big hug,” he said. "The chef and cooking culture here… it’s like coming home. Nowhere else in the world is like it. I just feel this warm embrace whenever I am here.” Triple B and I told him why we thought NOLA is such a special place, but I’m embarrassed to say that Anthony probably said it best: “People come to New Orleans, and they either get it right away or they don’t. They either say, ‘OK, this is why this is an amazing place.’ Or they just never will.” I offered to take him to the Westbank for Vietnamese for lunch, but I’ll have to wait for another time. “In a perfect world, I would stay here for a week and eat at all of these places that everyone keeps telling me about. It would be two o’clock in the morning, and I’d be scarfing down Verti Marte.”

I wish that I could tell you that this story ended with Anthony, Triple B, and I downing Flaming Dr. Peppers at the Goldmine followed by a 4:00am feast on an All That Jazz. But I cannot tell a lie. When we got to the W, Triple B and I offered to buy Anthony a scotch, but he politely declined and thanked us for our hospitality. And then he was gone.

I’ve met Paul Bocuse. I’ve eaten at The French Laundry. Maybe I’ll make it to the Fat Duck one day. But my walk with Anthony was pretty special. I doubt it was as good for him as it was for me, but that’s not the point. And if you don’t get why, then you never will.

Please note that the camera adds 20 pounds (but apparently not for professionals like Anthony).

Kitchen Confidential & Blackened Out Trivia

While on an extended drive, nothing helps pass the time faster than a book on tape. During last month's jaunt to Tennessee and North Carolina, The Folk Singer and I listened to the audio version of Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain's behind-the-scenes expose of the culinary world. The book had me concentrating on the storyline more than the road ahead of me - not necessarily a safe thing but it gives you an idea of how much I enjoyed it. Bourdain takes you through his youthful summers in France, culinary school at the CIA, and his seemingly never ending job postings in the kitchen. His personal anecdotes are humorous and entertaining, but he also offers insight into the nuts and bolts of working in a kitchen, as well as some practical advice for us wannabes.

And I almost forgot the best part: Bourdain himself narrates the book. Thus, the audio version takes on a more conversational feel than the print version; a touch which adds a certain something which draws the listener in even more.

Exactly how many times can you read/listen to the same book? Well, in this case for me it was twice in 8 days, but usually the answer is only once. So, our dear readers, we have decided to share the wealth and offer you a chance to listen to Bourdain tell tales of the underbelly of the food world. It's perfect for that upcoming Labor Day drive to the Flora-Bama. (NOTE: Bourdain loves dropping the f-bomb, and there are one or two sexually explicit tales, so this one might not be for the kiddies.)

In this inaugural edition of Blackened Out Trivia, the winner will receive the above slightly used audio copy of Kitchen Confidential which will then be autographed by The Pope. The first person to email the correct answers to all of the below questions will be the winner. If you have a pseudonym on this blog, then if you win, we will send the prize to a person of your choosing. OK, here we go:

1. What libation is commonly referred to by The Pope as "holy water"?
2. Its 4 am. The Pope has decided to go home from the Red Eye, but not before stopping where, for what?
   
3. What menu did The Folk Singer order at The French Laundry?
   
4. On the night that Blackened Out was born, in what restaurant did Legend knock over an entire tray of waters and affectionately pinch a waitress's derriere?
5. What is the maximum number of Ojens a person should consume per 24 hour period?
   
6. What local pie maker once chaperoned Legend on one fateful night during Spring Break?
7. What is the Dread Pirate's favorite place to eat sushi?

There they are. 7 questions; 7 answers. Email your answers to blackenedout at gmail dot com. This is better than winning Powerball.

Foodie TV

I'll be the first to admit that Food Network "sold out" a long time ago. Ever since they decided that celebrity primes substance, the quality of the programming has suffered. Since then I have turned to other programming that I have written about before, but the death of MOJO HD ended that love affair rather quickly. (Note: Old episodes of After Hours are still available on Hulu, and it looks like Fine Living Network will be picking up Three Sheets.)

But Sunday night restored my faith in Food Network ever so slightly. I really enjoyed the sneak peak of "The Best Thing I Ever Ate" and hope that more programs of this format and content are to come. There were two episodes: one entitled "Totally Fried" and the other curiously nondescript. Both featured nothing more than Food Network's personalities confessing their favorite dishes from dining out, but through their words, emotion, and body language you truly could sense how much they enjoyed these foods. French Fries from Balthazar, Fried Shrimp Heads at Joss Sushi, Burnt Ends on Bun from Gates BBQ, and Beef Marrow & Oxtail Marmalade from Blue Ribbon. These are the things that that they crave ... and after watching, so did I.

There was an overwhelming sense of honesty exuding from each segment, and that's what made them great. The shows as a whole were very reminiscent of the highlights from Travel Channel's "At the Table with Anthony Bourdain" - which Rene had pointed out was an overall failure save for those few interesting tidbits such as the "Last Meal Game."

Tonight's episode of "The Best Thing" focuses on BBQ - with a scheduled appearance by Pascal's Manale. 8:30 PM CST (so set your DVR in case the LSU game runs late again). We shall see if Sunday's preview was, in fact, a sign of good things to come. Please let us know what you think.

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: 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.

Dong Phuong - A Journey to the Far East (New Orleans)

Get on Chef Menteur Highway and just start driving. Those are the best directions I can give to Dong Phuong, where a wondrous world of Vietnamese goodies awaits those who are willing to make the journey. This place is, in a word, simply amazing. But after my first trip, I decided that there is a bit of strategy involved in order to maximize the benefits of this bakery and restaurant.

First, I suggest cruising the bakery to assess the assortment of Vietnamese pastries. Stuffed with what seems like an endless number of combinations of pork, onion, jicama, and hard boiled eggs, your head will likely start spinning trying to decide. The steamed buns resting in the warmer are delicious as well. But be patient and observe your fellow shoppers. The regulars usually know when a fresh batch of goodies will arrive hot from the oven. And when they do, you will witness a display not unlike the No Reservations segment where Bourdain describes the French waiting in line at the boulangerie as crack addicts looking for a fix.

The coolest aspect of the bakery, in my opinion, is the banh mi station. It's like a freaking Subway for Vietnamese po-boys. Chinese rolled ham, chicken, liver sausage and fresh veggies stuffed inside baguettes pulled right from the oven. If there was a stool, I could have sat there for days.But The Folk Singer and I had already planned on eating in the restaurant, and I am glad that we did. Forgoing my usual bun cha (which I was OK with because TFS ordered it as her meal), I decided on a sticky rice plate of grilled beef, shredded pork, and a fried egg. The pork was strange - served cold and had an almost rubbery texture. I think that it may have been sliced pig ears. Not what I expected, but still tasty. The beef was tender and flavorful as are most Vietnamese chargrilled meats. I ask again: How do they do it?

Just go for it. Make the drive, and you will be handsomely rewarded. Trust me. Rumor has it that Dong Phuong makes a mean kingcake as well. Which reminds me - I almost forgot the best part:

Cream puff to go.

The Durian Experiment

On Friday I had to venture out to unknown parts of Baton Rouge to pick up my computer from a Vietnamese electronics repair shop. The shop is located in a strip mall which also houses a Vietnamese tattoo shop, a Vietnamese billiards hall, a Vietnamese restaurant (Dang Family Restaurant - not as good as Little Saigon), and a Vietnamese grocery - Vinh Phat Market.

Vinh Phat is awesome. It's full of numerous foods from all over Asia - many of which have only two English words on the label describing what they are. While exploring the store I noticed an older woman who appeared to know what she was doing. But when I approached her and asked what I should get, she humbly laughed and said, "I have no idea. This is my first time here."

Thankfully, the owners of the store assisted me with my purchases. I had the idea of making bun cha (chargrilled pork over vermicelli noodles), so the nice man escorted me around the store as I gathered my ingredients. I also grabbed some amazing looking pork belly from the butcher case, where all of the meats had been cut and packaged that same day. Some coconut milk, curry powder, and lemongrass also made their way into my basket with the hopes of tom kha (or a variation thereof).

But when I finally made it to the checkout counter, the man's wife questioned me as to the final destination for my purchases. Next thing you know, I am making several trips back through the store. "Do you like sambal [no garlic] or chili garlic sauce?" No idea. I'll just get both. Vietnamese fish sauce is apparently another necessity.

And then I spotted it. Durian. That southeast Asian fruit which we all have seen Bourdain (at 5:50) and Zimmer tackle on the Travel Channel. I couldn't resist. I made sure to ask the proprietor whether the aroma of this notoriously foul smelling fruit would take over my fridge. She politely replied, "Not if you keep it cold, and it doesn't smell bad if you like the taste."

My tutor gave me a few tips as to how to properly open the durian, but the only one that I could understand was that you are supposed to let the fruit sit out and rise to room temperature before dissecting. I decided that it would be wise to cut it open outside in case the scent was unpleasant and overwhelming.

Which turned out not to be the case at all - at least in my opinion. The aroma is similar to a pineapple, and the taste mirrors the flavor. The texture of the edible part of the flesh (which surrounds the large seeds) is really strange - the best description being that of creole cream cheese with bits of string mixed in. The Folk Singer had this to say: "The texture is strange, the flavor is good, but the aftertaste is like garbage."

One of the best eating experiences of all time? No.

Worth the $8.99 to try it just once? Absolutely.

Jumping the Shark Fin Soup

Well it was bound to happen. And I guess in a way it signals that Bourdain has truly arrived, but his new show "At the Table with Anthony Bourdain" reminds me more of the Food Network and less of his genius at crafting such shows as "A Cook's Tour."

The entire show felt almost like a tease. We watch as Mr. Bourdain and a select group of New York based Food and Culture behemoths sit around a table to sample great food, drink amazing wines, and talk shop. Holy crap that sounds awesome! It is not. You, dear viewer do not get to eat the food, sample the wines, or add your own story; but even if you could, I doubt this show could be saved by inebriation. The conversation is borderline vapid and mostly re-runs of the same recurring theme: the food world is crazier than your office. Yes, we know that by now.

Mr. Bourdain makes it abundantly clear that he had serious reservations about doing this, I wish his judgment or editing acumen would have had a stronger vote. The format is supposed to be No Reservations meets The Jerry Springer Show. What it really succeeds at being is an elitist, snobbish and less well-done version of After Hours.

In the first segment, Bourdain poses the question to the group that he recently spent $1900 at Masa on sushi for two, and "should he feel guilty about this?" Wow, that was disingenuous. Imagine Hugh Heffner asking "Should I feel guilty about sleeping with hundreds of the world's most attractive women."

You are an American Mr. Bourdain, you work hard, made a lot of money; you earned that meal. Enjoy it and tell us about it, what you ate, why it was worth $1900, and how you would do it again. We get enough guilt from our mothers.

At another point in the show, Ted Allen throws his three cents short of a nickel in on why he feels bad getting into New York hotspots over the throngs of commoners. Do you see a theme here? It was an hour of "Hey we are privileged, but don't worry we really feel bad about it." Am I jealous of them, absolutely. But is inciting jealous rage in viewers a good thing?

There were a few bright spots, when Mr. Bourdain and his guests played the Last Meal game. But it seems like even this is cliche at this point. Mr. Bourdain is at his absolute best when he sits down with a chef or writer and over a satisfying meal and a few cold beers, they become friends. They talk shop, carouse, crack jokes, and we the viewing public are left thinking, "God I wish I was there." In At the Table, the viewer is left saying, "If I wanted scripted TV, I would have watched the Hills."

At another segment the panelists all agree that Popeyes is the best fried chicken. That is real, that is the kind of organic conversation people crave. Talk more about being stoned and making late night runs to Popeye's to destroy an 8 piece, 5 biscuit, mashed potatoes with gravy, and dirty rice and less about how kids should be beat up for not knowing how to truss a chicken.

In this episode the panel, Bill Buford, the former Page 6 columnist, the aforementioned Ted Allen, and the owner of Bungalow 8* all dined at Wylie Dufresne's WD-50. The food looked very interesting, but if it wasn't for the waiter's explanation of each dish the viewer would not have known anything about the food other than a few snippets from the guests.

Perhaps future versions of this show won't be so self-indulgent and scripted. Perhaps the booze will flow quicker, the food will be heartier, and the conversation more interesting. Until then, I suggest you change the channel.


* I purposefully did not put their names down. Sure, I could have, but then you would have just had to google their names most likely. And the internet has to be more efficient. I needed their titles to know who they were; and I suspect other viewers shared my ignorance as well. That is more though, a reflection on us. And I know the Pope has no idea what Page 6 is.

EDIT
Even Mr. Bourdain is admitting that his shit does in fact smell.

For Lunch Today...

There is a game Chefs (especially Bourdain) like to play where they ask each other what meal would they choose for their last meal. In fact there is a terrific coffee table book on the subject; your scribe has a birthday coming up. Hint.

Well, in thinking about the subject its really a no brainer for me. And so this is what you should have for lunch today. Go by St. James and pick up a few thick slices of Cochon's bacon. Fry it till it is extra crispy. Mayo coats the inside of two slices of white Bunny bread.

Pair the above with a a 2005 Chateauneuf-du-Pape.

Upcoming Quasi-Blog Related Event/Meet and Greet

Say New Orleans to people and they immediately think of a few things. Until recently those thoughts would always include food, drink, and good times at the top of the list. Depending on who you listen to New Orleans is either home to the only original cuisine in America or a waste land of laurel resting, terrible food producing restaurants(and if you are listening to Alan Richmond, my apologies to your ears). Regardless of your opinion you will soon be able to receive an educated look at the food and beverage customs of the South when the Southern Food and Beverage Museum opens next week where Julia meets the River.

A museum on food and booze and the cultures they beget or get begetted from seems like a no-brainer, especially in the South. Luckily, the South lacks the puritanical dread that other parts of the country seem to focus on when one combines delicious food, good drink, and good times. Mr. Bourdain said it best when he said, "Good food and good wine does lead to sex. And that is the way it is supposed to be." Southerners and New Orleanians (they are wholly seperate) enjoy good food and good drink. Now a museum will explore that relationship.

To celebrate the opening of the Southern Food and Beverage (SOFAB*) Museum a party (naturally what did you expect a lecture?) will be held next Thursday from 7-9 pm at the above location. Tickets are $60 and include food from not just New Orleans restaurants, but also some of the South's best known eateries. Some great spots on that list. Ohhh and booze, a good amount of it. I am in; Peter is in; Pope? Anyone else?

I hate to sound all civic booster-ey. But go to this. Its a Thursday night for crying out loud. You can be home, in bed, drunk, full, content and sound asleep by 9:15.



*I can't decide if I think the name SOFAB is hip or the worst thing I have ever heard. It sounds at the same time like a Manhattan Night Club owned by Sofia Coppola and Antonio Banderas, a skin condition which requires Blue Star ointment, and something we have all been called at one point in our lives.

Ruth's Scoop, Into the Fire, and Cocktails and Movies

From the Palm Room Hostess, thanks. The Lease between Ruth's Chris and Harrah's New Orleans has been signed. Following minor renovations, Ruth's will open in the space that was formerly Todd English's Riche, and then just Riche. Slated to open in April, be on the lookout for more insider info.

Some other random connections/thoughts here.
Tiffani Fallon, the runner-up on Top Chef I, worked as the opening chef of Todd English's Riche.
The Riche interior was very unique. Marble-topped tables, large mirrors, drapes, almost burlesque. Lady and I ate there one time for an Eat Club Dinner and really enjoyed it, but I can see why it did not last. Riche lacked a real identity and did not hit the ground running. It became an also ran in the New Orleans dining scene. One can not imagine that happening with a Ruth's Chris in that location.

Last night on the Travel Channel, Anthony Bourdain returned to the kitchen at Les Halles. If you have not watched this episode, please do. Quite simply this episode captured what the people who cook your food go through on a nightly basis. Not only does he explain some of the intricacies of behind the house and front of the house lingo, tradition, and practice, he also gives you a good look into the hard work required by a largely immigrant population to produce first rate food.

I worked in three various kitchens during the summers in college. This in no way makes me an expert on restaurant life. It sucked. For example, one summer my friend from college, Pikachu, and I lived at the beach and both worked at this incredibly amazingly bad tourist turn and burn. He worked front of the house and had to wear a Hawaiian shirt and nametag that could have doubled as a license plate. I worked in the kitchen on the fry station. By far the worst experience was when it would be late at night, and Pikachu would get one last table (and it was always a 10 or 12 top, that is a rule for the last table of the night). The anticipation in the kitchen would build as we watched that little rodent type the order into the computer system.

However I knew what was coming. Every single time without fail the order would come in for 12 Captain's Platters, which was just all fried food. There were numerous reasons why he did this. First, he knew it was one of the most expensive things on the menu thereby increasing his tip, which would already be large based on the fact the touristas usually felt sorry for walking in so late. Second, he loved fucking with me. Third, it allowed him to sit at the bar and drink about 6 beers while I cleaned my station thus making me drive home. But despite his best efforts to make me punch him in the face, at the end of the night the relief and excitement of finishing a service, checking the numbers, and wiping down one's station always made me pull into the Flora-Bama for just one drink.

Last nights episode made me want to go back into the kitchen. Almost. As for Pikachu, he is almost a Doctor, scary.

Finally, on the weekend of March 21st, the Tales of the Cocktail will host a 3 different movie cocktail cinema events at the W. Casablanca, The 7 year Itch, and Guys and Dolls will be screened with food and cocktails to match the theme of the movie. $25 a movie, not bad. Or a weekend package (all 3 movies) is $65. Information available here.

No Reservations and Cocktails

Tonight on the Travel Channel, Tony returns to work a double shift at Les Halles. Should be a bit more Kitchen Confidential, and less Cook's Tour.

And an interesting story about Ti Martin and Lally Brennan and their devotion to the cocktail.

Lamar Burton's Reading Rainbow Time

St. Louis makes me read, a lot. A quick review of culinary literature consumed in the past few months.

Heat, Bill Buford. Mid-life Crisis hits the former editor of The New Yorker and he ends up working in the kitchen of Mario Batali's Babbo restaurant, originally to write a profile on the man in the orange clogs. This launches him into a new career as a cook and food writer. He travels to Italy to learn about pasta and butchery and explores the inside of a celebrity chef's working kitchen. Heat is more than a hagiographer's obsession with a subject. In fact, I believe this book soured the relationship between Batali and Bufurd. Highly recommended if you liked Kitchen Confidential.

Roasting in Hell's Kitchen, Gordon Ramsay. A depressing chronicle of the escape from an abusive father which ultimately led Mr. Ramsay into the kitchen. That being said, an amazing book and a glimpse into what drives individuals to succeed. Perhaps at times the book is a little self-gloating and would love to read Marco Pierre-White's version of the same events; but Mr. Ramsay captures why running a fleet of world-class restaurants is so stressful and rewarding to him.

The ____ of a Chef, Michael Ruhlman. Making of a Chef chronicles Ruhlman's time at the CIA. Soul of a Chef explores what drives chefs towards perfection. Great look behind at both Michael Symon of Lola and Thomas Keller of French Laundry. The section on the Master Chef Exam is interesting, but like the test itself, pointless. The Reach of a Chef explores the age of the celebrity chef. The Soul of a Chef is my favorite of the three. Mr. Ruhlman's writing style is clear and concise while always hinting that there is more, much more below the surface. In a way, his writings make you want to explore the CIA and world class kitchens yourself. Although one can't help but envy his unadulterated access to some of the world's best chefs and kitchens. Of course once this blog gets Peter and I a TV show, that access should fall right in our lap.

Tender at the Bone, Ruth Reichl. I must admit I thought I would not like this book. Luckily, lowering expectations provided the ability for me to enjoy the book as much as I did. Not sure if that is a backhanded, backhanded compliment, which would just be a compliment. Mrs. Reichl's writing explores food as a pathway through her own development. Mrs. Reichl's wit and humor carry what at times is a very sad story, all the while using food memories as trailmarkers. The book includes recipes which serve as the Proustian trigger for Mrs. Reichl to connect her to her past.

How I Learned to Cook, Edited by Kimberly Witherspoon and Peter Meehan. Easy read. This book puts the story writing in the hands of over 30 chefs to tell their story of why they cook. Some chapters are only a few pages long, but all have a common theme: mistakes. Almost every story chronicles the time in a chef's training when they made an absolutely monumental mistake, got in way over there heads, or fell ass backwards into a job they were unqualified for. It is these mistakes which taught them a lesson and contributed to their success. Which should give hope to all amateur cooks about making mistakes in their own kitchen. Probably the most interesting part of the book is reading about the perfect TV host, Sara Moulton's, entry into professional cooking. Mrs. Moulton it appears once had a penchant for the marijuana and hard partying, not surprising as a chef, just surprising to read about concerning her. Then again almost every chef in this book was a stoner at one time. Good news for stoners, like the Kid Who Didn't Go to France.

A Year in Provence and French Lessons, Peter Mayle. I want to read the rest of Mr. Mayle's books. In a Year in Provence, he chronicles the move of he and his wife to a small town in Provence (althought you could have got most of that from the title). If you have been to France and enjoyed the eating, drinking, and lifestyle, then you will enjoy this book immensely. In French Lessons Mr. Mayle drinks and eats his way around the French Countryside exploring festivals of culinary delights, such as the Frog Legs Festival.

The Nasty Bits, Anthony Bourdain. A collection of smaller essays on eating, drinking, traveling, fame, and Mr. Bourdain's own life. Here is the only problem with this book. Because of Mr. Bourdain's near omnipresence on the Travel Channel (not a bad thing), I can not read his books without hearing his voice in my head (perhaps not such a good thing). However, much like How I Learned to Cook, the essays do not require one to invest any more than a 20-30 minutes at a time. I would put the Nasty Bits right below a Cook's Tour and above Kitchen Confidential, which is to say a good read. The above was written with Mr. Bourdain's voice in my head.

The French Laundry Cookbook, Thomas Keller. I had been putting off buying this book for a while now. My rationale was, "what could I possibly replicate or learn from a cookbook so clearly out of my league." Buying that cookbook and merely trying a recipe would be the equivalent, for me at least, of making a dress for Heidi Klum. However, the book is surprisingly approachable. Take for instance, Mr. Keller's instructions for making his Chive Chips. He walks you through the process of peeling, shaping, slicing, baking and cooling the potato chips with clarity and precision. A beautiful book with lots of pictures, co-written by Michael Ruhlman, The French Laundry Cookbook has the added benefit of making one look cool and being useful. The complete opposite of Slap-Bracelets.

Thats it for now. Go back to Work.