Gone Fishin' at Borgne

Many high profile chefs recognize that a banner name on the marquee and on the menu cover is of no assistance to what's going on in the kitchen. A major relies heavily on his captain to organize his troops, and in the same way a chef counts on his sous chef or chef de cuisine to execute their food. John Besh figured out this formula when he partnered with Alon Shaya at Domenica. Now he's done the same with Brian Landy at Borgne, and the result thus far has been just as successful.

Borgne fills what has been a glaring void in the downtown area: a restaurant serving fresh, high quality seafood in a setting somewhere between the fine dining rooms of the French Quarter and the neighborhood restaurants found in Bucktown. The restaurant is more casual than I expected - think Domenica with lighter color tones. Service is friendly and congenial; waiters are there when you need them and absent when you don't. The end result is upscale comfort designed to please the entire spectrum of diners.

The menu is billed as "coastal Louisiana cuisine" - think seafood and lots of it - "with a touch of Isleño influence" - a nod to the Spanish descendants who emigrated from the Canary Islands to St. Bernanrd Parish. Oysters play a prominent role on the menu, and every table should begin with an order of the baked oysters. The menu says "garlic butter" but the preparation is much more clean than the typical overload of parmesan and herbs. The bivalves are served pure and unadulterated - hot, plump and gilded with buttery crisp bread crumbs. On the entree side of the menu, the P&J oysters amandine is a dozen or more expertly fried oysters piled atop a warm spinach salad dressed slivered almonds and brown butter. And the oyster Spaghetti shows how delicious a combination of cream, pasta, and perfectly poached oysters can be.

Of the non-oyster affiliated portions of the menu, I have had the most experience with the starters. A quintet of duck poppers are a riff on the jalapeno, cream cheese, bacon treatment that has immigrated from Texas campfires to ambitious restaurants. Bite size morsels of duck breast are paired with a slice of jalapeno, wrapped in bacon, bakes and placed atop a cream cheese sauce. Yes, they are awesome. A quintet of thin crusted empanadas are stuffed with roast suckling pig that tastes more like pulled pork than cochon de lait and served with a thin pink dipping sauce. The crabmeat croquetas are a smooth mixture of crab and cream cheese in a two-bite sphere. Shrimp toasts have now morphed into shrimp fritters; I have not had the newer version yet, but I am a huge fan of the sambal aioli underneath, which would make a great dip for french fries (hint, hint).

The Spanish influence on the menu is easily recognized by the "a la plancha" description, which roughly translates into "grilled on a metal plate." Both black drum and the rice served with the twice cooked garlic chicken (a riff on a classic paella) are given the treatment. The goat cheese “a la planca” is griddled and sauced with a Christmas color combination of mojo verde and roasted red pepper and topped with crushed pistachios. The blue crab bisque has a rich, creamy base with great flavor. Green salad with blue cheese and the pecan vinaigrette is a less refined (but nearly as tasty) version of the salad at August featuring pumpkin seed brittle and Point Reyes.  The seared tuna salad is a sleeper. Slices of rare tuna are placed atop a base of Italian artichoke salad which more resembled a spicy, crunchy giardiniera. And that was a good thing.

The dessert list has been in constant flux since Borgne's opening, with different selections available on each of my visits. The Hummingbird cake has plenty of crunch with loads of pecans pressed into the sides of the cake which is iced with a whipped cream cheese frosting. The oatmeal cookie ice cream sandwich is the new hot ticket item, but the cookie was hard and tough instead of soft and chewy on my only taste test. The Prince Albert (LOL!) has already disappeared from the menu. The chocoholic's dream dessert was a thin, moist round of chocolate cake topped with a chocolate mousse double the height of the bottom layer, a quenelle of cocoa ice cream and squiggles of chocolate and caramel sauces. It was divine. I never had a chance to try the mini fried pies, which were supposedly spectacular.

But the empty space left by the now-departed Prince Albert has easily been filled by my new favorite dessert. Many of you are aware of my love for Nutella, but the hazelnut flan at Borgne is evidence that hazelnut need not rely on its longstanding partnership with chocolate. The rich, thick, silky, smooth flan is out of f*cking bounds, and the accompanying condensed milk sorbet and peanut brittle are no afterthoughts.

We hesitate to pass judgment on new restaurants in their infancy stages. I have been to Borgne 5 times since it opened 2 months ago and have now written about it twice. It should not be too difficult to figure out how I rate the food.

Borgne

601 Loyola Avenue

(504) 613-3860

Open Daily 11am - 11pm

Madame, It is Time for Your Closeup

We try to cover a lot of ground. Recently Peter and I noticed we don't really review some of the places that have been around longer than the internet. The Grand Dames have always been some of New Orleans' most press worthy restaurants. We are talking of course about the Super Six: Antoine's, Galatoire's, Brennan's, Arnaud's, Broussard's, and Commander's Palace. It's time to put these restaurants under the microscope.

Galatoire's

New Orleans sometimes forces you to make promises you won't keep. Swing into a place like Three Muses or Blue Nile and you walk out vowing to learn to play the trumpet. Walk through the French Quarter on a quiet Spring day, and soon you will find yourself crunching numbers to figure out if an apartment in the French Quarter is doable. Which is how on Saturday afternoon, Lindsay ended up saying, "We really should get dressed up and go to dinner at places like Galatoire's more often. You know, for a change of pace."

What a great idea. I can only recall one other time eating at Galatoire's for dinner. Lunch sure, but lunch at Galatoire's is a cocktail party with food. Dinner? What is dinner at Galatoire's like?

The French Quarter was pulsing last Saturday evening. As French Quarter Fest wound down and a band of educators were turned loose for the evening, the Quarter seemed to expand to hold the mass of humanity filling it. A quick walk from the lot and soon we had entered that tile and wood clad vestibule where so many have waited for so few tables. In a few minutes, a table in the way back near the clock was ready.

The martini at Galatoire's is a stunning example of why no one should really drink these things. They are just too goddamn good to be good for you. A thin, glacial sheet of gin rested on top of the martini. Pressing one's lips to the glass takes your breath away. Then, you get that delightful blend of smooth gin and punchy vermouth. A big bowl of olives, lemon rinds, and onions gives you the opportunity to have either a snack or a martini bar. Remember martinis are like boobs and toy trains - they are meant for little kids, but only dad gets to play with them.

Souffle potatoes and fried eggplant come next with bernaise and powdered sugar with hot sauce, irrespectively. Sometimes they are both perfect, oftentimes one is better than the other. On this visit, the eggplant was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, whereas the potatoes were flaccid. Win goes to the eggplant.

Then came a visit from Dr. Brobson Lutz, decked out in what can only be called an ensemble of tapestry- a patterned red sportscoat and red bowling shoes. Segue: Brobson needs, more than chickens, or zoo cobras, a Twitter account. Then came something unordered from the kitchen, a bubbling, casserole studded with big, garlicky snails. The snails are fine and well, but the real star of most cooked mollusk dishes is the sauce. A crust of bread dragged through the parsley sauce is the perfect bite of food. Lutz says, "Hey, you know they get those from a can," in a drawl so long it wraps halfway around the block.

Since all snails come from a can one is left wondering what Lutz means by this, but he leaves to finish his white wine, salad, and soup. Next up is a cup of turtle soup as we figure we wont be able to eat soup for another 7 months or so. The soup is thicker, spicier, and better than I remember.

Now, comes the most troubling part of eating at Galatoire's, ordering an entree. In all honesty, one is usually full or drunk by the time the entrees come around. Plus, the appetizers have always been better. But with 3/4 of a bottle of Tattinger Champagne left, this seems like as good of a time as any to try the fried chicken. For around $18 bucks, you get a three piece order of mahogany colored bird.

The crust is the best part of any fried chicken, and this is some of the best crust anywhere. But the inside meat lacked a depth of flavoring and one piece was a little bit rare near the bone. With the fried chicken we asked for just a simple green salad with their garlicky, pungent dressing. This turned out to be a perfect food match like peanut butter and jelly.

People who either love or hate Galatoire's always describe the food as "simple and basic", but sometimes simple and basic works. As we sat their, eating fried chicken with our hands, I hoped this would be a New Orleans promise we'd keep.

A Scrapbook

Pretty soon the blog is about to celebrate its nine month anniversary. Which if it was a high school relationship would be totally a big deal. Complete with a trip to Copeland's Cheesecake Bistro, a scrapbook filled with photos, letters, and ticket stubs, and some sort of promise ring.

Well, here at Blackened Out Media, where we are often called sophomoric, we dont have enough clout to get a reservation at the above; so instead, we are going to treat our viewers and the blog to a photographic scrapbook documenting the late part of the summer/early fall. Translation: Rene had a camera twice and just figured out how to post photos.

In this first picture we find Peter manning the raw oyster bar at the Louisiana Restaurant Association Expo. Now, we intended to report on this affair, however we forgot. Just know this, it was fun. Peter loves raw oysters and so when he found this booth he did not leave for 3 days straight. He set all kinds of records, but we are most proud of the fact that he is the only person in LRA Expo history to be escorted out by both the NOPD and the Health Department.



Why does Rene look like a bee just stung him? Well, its because of the bottle of vodka in his hand. Kalashnikov Vodka comes in a special designer bottle that mimics the distiller's other dangerous invention. Up next, an AK-47 that looks like a bottle of vodka.


The sign pictured below reads, "Eat More Pork, Be a Better Lover" We eat a lot of pork but mostly it has just made us love pork more.

"Jesus Christ, it is the guy's from Blackened Out, how the eff did you find me...No, I never read your blog. And you both smell like oysters, booze, and Mandarin Oranges," says Chef John Besh, "But seriously next time I am on Next Iron Chef I will ask that yall be the judge instead of that Ruhlman dude."

Note to self: it helps to interview people when sober, or at least not holding a mint julep.

Your bloggers with Chef Brian Landry following his second place finish at the Seafood Cook-Off. We had pictures of his dish (a cassoulet), but we ate them on the car ride home. It happens, dont judge.

With oyster season back in swing, it is time to practice your form before heading to Casamento's. Notice the technique and I just realized I forgot to rotate the picture. So just turn your head to the side. What an amateur...

If I knew anything about that Frodo Baggins of Donuts book, I would make some clever comment about rings, power, glory and 80's rock and roll to describe this circle of oysters. But I dont.

And finally, as an homage to Robert Peyton of Appetites and his drink on a bar collection of boozy photographs. Since we pretty much are a poor man's version of that blog, here is an empty Dixie at Casamentos. You are truly the wind beneath our wings.

Stay tuned for the next 9 months. Where we will hopefully unveil a Papal Wine Column, more photos, worse writing, and a special feature that is so secretive the FBI has flagrant tap my cell.

A Chef Shows How Resourceful He Can Be During Evacuation

I think that it comes as no surprise to anyone when I say that Blackened Out is a huge fan of Galatoire's Executive Chef Brian Landry. We almost caused a riot during the Louisiana Foodservice Expo when Brian was robbed of first place by only one point in the Great American Seafood Cookoff. (The recount is still pending, and we expect the results to eventually be decided by the Louisiana Supreme Court before the retirement of Chief Justice Pascal Calogero, who coincidentally has been known to enjoy a Grand Gouté from time to time).

Sure, anyone can make a Shrimp Clemenceau when you have on staff a woman whose sole job is to peel shrimp. But let's see your culinary wherewithall when you are evacuated in Baton Rouge, staying in a hotel with no power, and armed with nothing but a wooden spoon and a portable butane cooktop. Furthermore, I happen to know that one of the windows in Brian's family's hotel was blown out by the "Staff of the Gods." But needless to say, Brian was up to the challenge. And don't worry, those are NOT Blue Runner red beans.

Sidenote - For all of you readers out there still without power, just remember that the "little people" have not forgotten about you.

Local Dialect

Something familiar about this place. Mirrors on the walls, elegant yet casual, good food, attentive service; can't quite put my finger on it.

Last Saturday Lindsay (Lady tired of "such a lame nickname") and I dined at Patois. Patois, on the corner of Laurel and Webster, is a French word denoting a local dialect. That certainly is apparent in both the food and the restaurant itself.

The interior evokes memories of a Caribbean house with neutral colors, high ceilings, and large windows. A bar area leads to a raised dining room which gives ample opportunity to people watch.

We began with some cocktails, and why not? Lindsay had The Contessa which combined candied ginger and champagne. I had the White Lily which blended together egg white, gin, muddled cucumber, and sugar. What resulted was both creamy and refreshing. The sea cap white froth with traces of almost cerulean undertones provided visual stimuli to match the palate pleasing perfection of this drink.

The menu focuses mostly on interpretations (but not deviations) of French bistro fare. To begin a Lyon salad. Frisee, a fried egg (fried perfectly), a few chunks of Benton's bacon, and a light vinagrette. Pierce the egg and listen for the songs of angels. Then a take on spaghetti carbonara; nuggets of gnocchi tossed in a black pepper cream sauce, parmesan cheese, and pork belly. Dear God, what have I done to deserve such earthly delights?

I spied via the mirrors our waitress walking from the bar area with a sheepish expression. I had a feeling of what that countenance meant. Sure enough, the wine we ordered was not available. Luckily, she suggested another wine to go with our entrees (and truth be told probably a better wine). 2005 Domaine Ligneres a wonderful, full bodied but not heavy red.

I got the duck. It rocked. Set atop a bacon, apple, and potato hash and some brussel sprouts (what a great idea), was a perfectly seared breast of duck. The dish evoked memories of Thanksgiving and Fall, football and sweaters which helped considering it was August.

Lindsay got the hangar steak with a mushroom and marrow demi glace. The dish was good but over time the salt began to dominate almost rendering the dish inedible. I add here that I am a salt fiend. A slight misstep.

Cheese plate for Lindsay. Three exceptional cheeses from St. James. I had the berry sorbet which was even better than I thought it would be. The sorbet was luxurious and thick, sweet but not cloying, and had a hint of tartness. Perfect palate cleanser so I could steal some cheese.

One can tell a lot about restaurants with how they do the little things. Coffee service sets good restaurants apart from great ones. The coffee used at Patois is from the Coffee Roasters of New Orleans. These almost mythical bean roasters remain elusive to my attempts to get some French roast, but I will find them. I feel very confident in saying that this is the best cup of coffee in New Orleans.

Service is efficient, friendly, and clumsily elegant at times. A spill of wine on the table cloth was met with a c'est la vie attitude. Not bad at all, rather it shows that this restaurant wants to be serious about food but also willing to have fun.

As we were getting ready to leave I saw an interesting sight. A maitre'd from Galatoire's (who I believe is also a Gooch) waiting patiently for a table. And then it hit me. The maitre'd at Patois (and an owner along with his father Leon and Chef Aaron Burgau) is Pierre Touzet. Pierre's grandfather, Leon, is from the same town in France that Jean Galatoire is from. Leon worked at Galatoire's. Pierre and Brian Landry grew up together and graduated from Jesuit the same year. The mirrors, a special with "crab butter," the service, the elegant, bistro food...Patois uses a similar gameplan to produce equally wonderful results.

Patois is a restaurant with its own distinct identity. However it uses, and I should add to its advantages, references to the familiarity and the memories of New Orleans diners to trigger Proustian reactions. All of it, the surroundings, the service, the food, the memories leave one happy and well fed. They could not have picked a better name for their version of a standard.

Birdie, with an eagle lurking.

Note: Patois will be closed for two weeks at the end of August. This is normal. But I suggest you be in line when they reopen.

So, You Say That The Summers Are Slow In NOLA, Huh?

Wrong. There have been and will be many festivals and events going on this summer. This weekend is no exception. The New Orleans Vieux-To-Do combines three festivals in one and will take over the French Quarter for the next 3 days. So go checkout The Creole Tomato Festival, The Louisiana Seafood Festival, and The Cajun-Zydeco Festival. LSU does not resume its quest for another title in Omaha till Sunday night at 6pm, so what else do you have to do?

Sidenote: One of the best things about Baton Rouge is that people from New Orleans occasionally come up there and do some pretty cool stuff. Tomorrow Galatoire's Executive Chef Brian Landry will be performing cooking demonstrations and passing out samples at the Red Stick Farmers Market, which is held in downtown Baton Rouge. The market is supposed to be one of the best in the region, so head on down and take a look if you happen to be in the Capitol City tomorrow.

Weekend in Review

Friday afternoon drinks at Bridge Lounge. Great spot only one problem. Everyone orders mojitos there. Which is great; although each one of those drinks requires numerous steps and considerable time. So sometimes getting an order in can take a while. On the flip side the bartenders have the forearms of a 15 year old boy. I am not at liberty to say which food journalist on New Orleans cuisine was also there, but lets just say he is easily the second or third most popular food journalist in New Orleans.

Another wonderful dinner at La Boca. That place is top notch. Pisco Sours, Provoleta, hangar steak for Lady, and flank for me. I got to admit the hangar steak beats the flank. Surprisingly fellow blogger Peter also showed up there for dinner (completely random) with the Palm Room Hostess, and two other law cronies. They too enjoyed their meal. Peter was coming off what many would consider a full weekend by 6 p.m. Friday evening: Lunch at Luke with the Papal Family, Old Absinthe House, 2 Hand Grenades and a lap dance. His evening continued; his dry cleaner thanked him the next day.

Then, the 25th Anniversary Rebirth Concert. Fellow Blue Jay Harry Connick, Jr. was in attendance; however the fight song was not sung. That concert blew me away. The best part about it was the Baby Boyz Brass Band; a group of tweens and teens that could really play. To me there is something so frightening and exciting about when the front line of a brass band, finishes a lyric and takes a step back before blasting notes into their instruments. That sight is the most joyous firing line one can imagine.

Saturday, Lady headed off to Shreveport for some baby shower thing. I stayed behind. The Crescent City Farmer's Market had Brian Landry of Galatoire's dolling out Shrimp Remoulade. What a breakfast. I picked up a brisket from Mr. Justin Pitts of Mississippi. Based on some personal instructions from Mr. Pitts and Steven Stryjewski of Cochon I slow-cooked that thing in a dutch oven for about 8 hours. I added a little crab boil, some creole tomatoes, onions and garlic and about a cup of water. What came out was heavenly and matched really well with the creole cream cheese grits I also made. Ok, so I totally stole that from Cochon. Judge if you must.

Saturday for lunch, before checking out The Dude's holdings, I grabbed a quick bite at Baru. A corn, cheese, pink sauce, and potato strips dish turned out to be the highlight. Sweet grilled corn, salty cheese, and then essentially mini-french fries. Also, a wonderful pair of flaky and just greasy enough to cure a hangover empanadas. The empanadas were served with this highly herbal concoction of parsley, cilantro, lime, and peppers. A tres leches cake that was really good but as I was dining solo became to sweet towards the end. Not Baru's fault; mine for having very few friends. Bring your own booze for now at Baru, but when that changes expect this place to really take off.

Sunday completely lazy. Cooked a rump roast by first triming it of some of its fat. Then, I studded the beast with garlic slivers. I then sliced the fat up into tiny pieces and used it to plug the holes where the garlic was and also to introduce fat into a pretty lean cut. Coated the rump in salt, pepper, Tony's, and garlic salt. Seared it on all sides; added onions, and deglazed with cognac and beef stock. Into the oven, covered, at 250 for about 7 hours. Served it over Romano cheese grits and with some caramelized red pearl onions. It tasted good. But the oven needs to go into hiding while the summer does what it does. Even better for lunch today as a po-boy, with Barqs, and Zapp's Cajun Crawtators.

That is in my book the definition of a New Orleans Weekend.

And the winner is...

On Saturday, local chefs competed in the first ever Louisiana Seafood Cook-Off in conjunction with the New Orleans Wine and Food Experience. Apparently no one deems this competition worth reporting. No one, that is, save for us.

You heard it here first, folks. The winner of the inaugural Louisiana Seafood Cook-Off is none other than Brian Landry, Executive Chef of Galatoire's. The winning dish: lemonfish topped with jumbo lump crabmeat and crab butter.

Your next question: "What is crab butter?" Well, let me tell you. Chef Landry dumbed down the process for me: He "boiled" crab shells in butter until the butter broke, removed the shells, then whisked the butter back together over ice.

Brian will represent our great state in the fifth annual Great American Seafood Cook-Off, which will be held on August 2 & 3 in the Convention Center in conjunction with the Louisiana Food Service Expo (otherwise known as the "LRA Show" - aka "Christmas in August" for The Pope). More on this event later.

Congratulations, Brian. All I can say is that I, for one, am really glad that you decided to forego dental school in favor of the culinary arts.

Presidential Luncheon

W ate lunch at Galatoire’s yesterday with Nagin, Fielkow, and a few others. Blondie's inside sources tell us that the White House contacted Executive Chef Brian Landry on Sunday to inform him that the President would be coming for lunch. Unfortunately for George, he did not dispatch Dick Cheney to wait in line for a downstairs table, so his group had to eat in a private upstairs dining room. Word is that W did not ask for a menu - trusting Chef Landry to serve whatever he thought what was the freshest seafood of the day. So the group dined on lemonfish (DISCLAIMER - Blondie is not 100% certain that lemonfish was the choice) as an entree and hopefully started with pommes souflee, crabmeat maison, and oysters en brochette or rockefeller.

Oh yeah, and I am sure that they talked about some other stuff other than the food...