Fish Fridays - Mark Falgoust

Often in life true talent finds you instead of the other way around. Back in January, we were invited by the folks at Grand Isle to sample some new dishes which they were experimenting with. While little of what we tasted has found a permanent home on the menu (and therefore why we didn't write about it here), we were blown away by several of the creations of Chef Mark Falgoust.

We attempted to secure his services for our "Farewell to Meat" series, but Mark was a little busy at the time with his impending nuptials as well as other chefly duties (like figuring out how to cater his own wedding reception). While his "Pork Bomb.com" will have to wait till next year's Carnival for unveiling, his turtle sauce piquant was ripe and ready for Fish Fridays.

"The secret to the sauce is equal parts red sauce and brown sauce," says Mark. His red sauce recipe is akin to Tony Mandina's, while his brown sauce is a derivative of the massive quantities of stock made in the kitchen every week. Together these two simmer with trinity, chilis, and turtle meat.

Upon presentation, a strong aroma of lemon wafts from the plate to your nose, and the heat from the chilis linger on the tongue after each bite. In our opinion, this thick stew could rival seafood gumbo as your potage of choice on Lenten Fridays.

While his love for charcuterie and the rustic foods of South Louisiana are an homage to his roots, Mark's training and experience - his resume includes stints at Peristyle, Herbsaint, Cochon, and Craft in NYC - expands his culinary range into more "refined" cuisine as well. A perfect example is the ad hoc oyster salad which he created just a few hours before we arrived in the kitchen.

The dish begins with an assortment of chopped, grilled vegetables - fennel, zucchini, and mushrooms - and a julienne of roasted red pepper. These are tossed in a salsa verde composed of mint, Vietnamese chilis, garlic, and parsley ground by mortar and pestle. The oysters were brined for 45 minutes in a mixture of salt, sugar, and sriracha. (Did we mention that Mark loves chilis?) After a quick drain, he smokes the oysters over low heat until they just begin to plump up. After the oysters cool, they tossed in simple cornmeal batter and dropped in the deep fryer.

Place vegetables on a plate along with a drizzle of salsa verde and a pool of tarragon aioli, stack oysters, another touch of aioli, and marvel. I cannot put into words how delicious this was and can only hope that one day we will all be able to order it off the menu at Grand Isle.

Bon appetit.

Fish Fridays - Rio Mar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Panamanian Ceviche

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

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

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

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

Fish Fridays - Master Shucker

For 36 years these hands have held the keys to our local waters' greatest treasure. The journey began in 1974, when Michael "Hollywood" Broadway strolled past the Desire Oyster Bar on his way home from his shift as a dishwasher at the Court of Two Sisters. "I peeked inside Desire and saw the shuckers joking and talking to the customers. It looked like fun." But after taking a job as a busboy at Desire, the current shuckers were not so keen on mentoring a protege. "I asked the guy to teach me, but he told me that I would have to pay him. So I taught myself, and then after a few weeks I took his job."

After breaking into the trade at Desire, Hollywood moved to the Hilton Hotel where in 1978 he shucked oysters for Muhammed Ali just a few weeks before he went down to Leon Spinks. A few years later he moved to the Acme Oyster House on Iberville, where he has been a fixture behind the bar for the past 28 years.

His technique for shucking is characterized by more finesse than brute force. After grabbing an air-tight oyster - which ensures both freshness and a reservoir of salty liquor inside - his knife enters the hinge while the weight of his body presses down on top of the shell. "You pry, not push," are his words of wisdom. While rocking his knife back and forth, he scrapes the oyster from it's shell, allows the excess liquor to wash away any of the residual dirt inside, and swipes it clean with the blade before placing it high side out on the tray. He can shuck a dozen oysters in just over 60 seconds.

Hollywood has passed down his tried and true technique to a countless number of oyster shuckers. First, to his co-workers at Desire - including a gentleman named Gus, who has been behind the bar at Desire for 34 years - and now to a whole new generation at Acme via his post as Personal Trainer. He was named to Gourmet's 50 Best Chefs and serves as a member of the Louisiana Oyster Task Force.

True to his profession, Hollywood loves oysters but only eats them raw with just a squeeze of lemon and a touch of Tabasco. He lets his hands do the cooking.

Fish Fridays - Scallops

Let's keep the pressure on the mollusks. But this week, let's talk scallops. No sure, scallops aren't really from around these parts, but that doesn't mean some restaurants in New Orleans can't use them.

One of the number one thing we get asked is how can you cook scallops at home. The easy answer is you cant. This is because restaurants that serve the scallops you want to emulate are using day boat scallops or diver scallops. Day boat scallops are those which are usually harvested on boats which return to shore each night. The scallops are then rushed off to fish markets around the world. The scallops you are likely buying from the grocery store come from scallop factory boats. These boats dip the scallops in a chemical substance to keep them fresh and milky white for transport. That chemical inhibits caramelizing, and so you tend to overcook your scallops waiting on the color.

So either leave it to the pros or go diving in cold, Atlantic waters. But if you want good scallops in New Orleans, might we suggest the following:

Iris - Hands down, the meatiest, sweetest scallops in the city. The scallops arrive looking like albino filet mignons. Usually, Chef Ian swabs them down with a crisp, grapefruit butter.

Gautreau's - Peter and I have a huge crush on Sue Zemanick's refined take on motherly cuisine. Something about the way she creates such a crisp crust on her scallops makes us feel warm and safe. Then when she serves it with a bacon and corn relish, it is enough to make us want to take her on a date. But we are too nervous.

MiLa - We have talked before about the lunch menu at MiLa before, and on that prix fixe, occasionally, is a puree of squash or pumpkin with a petite dice of scallop that heightens the sweetness of scallops to a whole 'nother level. If you go for lunch (and you should), and this soup is on the menu, get it.

Where are your favorite places to enjoy the scallop?

Fish Fridays - Sushi Survey

A while back, Rene and I had lunch with a fellow food writer visiting from NYC. While discussing the various cuisines of New Orleans, The Big Apple remarked: "I usually steer away from sushi when I am down here. I would rather spend my time eating things like oysters and softshell crabs in New Orleans, and save the fresh salmon and tuna for when I visit the Northwest."

I understand that when people visit New Orleans, they are looking for oysters rockefeller, barbeque shrimp, and other dishes which our city is well known for. I'll admit that when I have visitors, I take them to eat po-boys and gumbo as opposed to burritos and burgers. But to dismiss an entire genre of food based on regional stereotypes would amount to missing out on a lot of good eats.

I love sushi and firmly believe that New Orleans has quite a few sushi bars worth dining in during Lent. When I'm looking to avoid weighing myself down with fried seafood and peeling crawfish while wearing suit just isn't an option, I usually turn to raw fish. In this inaugural edition of Fish Fridays, here is my ranking of the 10 sushi bars that I have visited over the last year.

1. Kanno - After your first meal prepared by Chef Hide and his wife Lin, you will never again hesitate to make the journey to Fat City. I'm partial to the Lobster Dynamite Roll and Hot Garlic Softshell Crab, but Hide has never steered me wrong with any of his impromptu creations.
2. Kyoto - While the quality of the rice has varied on recent visits, I still believe that Kyoto serves some of the best sushi in town. Best bets: Poke Salad and the Shrimp Sara Roll.
3. Sushi Bros - Quality fish, sizable portions, and fast service all at an affordable price. The 4 Roll Lunch Special, complete with soup and salad, will run you $11. If you're into more complicated rolls, I recommend the FEMA Roll (pictured top).
4. Sake Cafe (Uptown) - Extensive menu of special rolls with unique preparations and a dizzying array of sauces.
5. Little Tokyo (Mid-City) - According to the menu, fish is flown in weekly from the Tsukiji Fish Market in Tokyo. If the Japanese style "fish and chips" is available, order it as a starter.
6. Shogun - The first sushi bar in the area. Try the Steve Roll of barbeque eel and avocado.
7. Ninja - Some of the nicest staff in the business. Don't miss the Cajun Tuna Tataki.
8. Rock-n-Sake - At night this place resembles the Jersey Shore, but during Friday lunch the crowd is more my style. Order the Calamari Crunch Roll, but be prepared to battle on the dance floor.
9. Wasabi - The original location on Frenchman is better than the new one in West End.
10. Hana - Big fan of the complimentary noodle salad and the large portions (see the salmon box above), but unfortunately I find the fish lacks in quality behind the others.

A Season of Sacrifice

The binge has finally ended.... Or has it?

As we last discussed on Friday, it's been a non-stop party around here since Christmas. But why fool ourselves into thinking that the good times have stopped rolling simply because some of us are supposed to abstain from eating the flesh of hooved animals for the next few Fridays?

After the resounding success of our "Farewell to Meat" series during Carnival, we have decided to embrace our Catholic upbringing with a new series this Lenten season: "Fish Fridays." From boiled crawfish and raw oysters to turtle soup and trout amandine, we will explore the bounty of our local waters through our favorite seafood dishes. So when Friday rolls around and you are trying to decide how to avoid going vegan for the day, look no further than here.

Finally, we wish everyone good luck with your respective Lenten sacrifices. As is my custom, I will be making a run at a self-imposed prohibition on deep fried foods, pizza, and sweets for the next 46 days. (Hopefully though, this year I will avoid counteracting my attempt at health and wellness with late night overindulgences of peanut butter and honey.) Rumor has it that Bloggle, a/k/a NOLAWineGuy, is giving up Twitter, but I'll believe that when I see it.

As for The Pope, well... he gave up on giving up stuff a long, long time ago.