K-Paul's: Is It Worth It?

The dish which made Paul Prudhomme a legend: Blackened fish, here drum, with crabmeat. 

The first cookbook I ever received was Chef Paul Prudhomme's Pure Magic cookbook. It came, as I can remember, in a box with a set of four Magic Seasonings Blends. This may seem like a strange Christmas gift for a twelve year old, but I was a strange twelve year old. That cookbook got a heavy workout for the next few months and the Magic Seasonings went on everything. As you are no doubt aware, Prudhomme is a giant in the American food world. He is largely responsible for making the cuisine and techniques of Southwest Louisiana household recipes. It is to his credit, or blame, that restaurants around the world serve Cajun chicken breasts and blackened tofu.

The restaurant which vaulted him to fame, K-Paul's Louisiana Kitchen, is located on a hidden-in-plain sight block of Chartres Street, across the way from the Louisiana Supreme Court. A call last Friday afternoon, yielded a table for two in the upstairs of the restaurant, tucked away into a corner, and located near one of the large windows. The menu is large, a relic of culinary history, with descriptions that run longer than a Kenyan marathoner. The room is largely brick and ornamented with the artwork of George Rodrigue. There is a well-studied wine list and a good vibe in both dining rooms, as comfort and dining meld together.

First up, the bread basket. Yeast rolls, a cornbread, a jalapeno yeast roll, and a molasses corn bread were sufficient, but the molasses one was difficult to chew- either stale or overcooked, we couldn't discern which. Chicken and andouille gumbo is as good as you would imagine: dark, rich, and chock full of the namesake ingredients. Perhaps better was Lindsay's greens and ham soup. The broth had ceased to be liquid and transformed into a thick porridge of delicious greens. The hambone brought to the soup a well-needed dose of salt. This was delicious soup - too bad we have only had three days of proper soup weather this winter. 

If time machines were legal, I'd like to travel back in time and stop whoever convinced fine dining restaurants to serve salads with dressing on the side. This is such a waste of lettuce and more importantly, their creamy, potent green onion dressing. Until Congress makes time machines legal, restaurants please stop doing this. It kills the salad, resulting in greens that are either overdressed or underdressed. And finally, anyone who orders dressing on the side ends up eating the whole damn ramekin anyway.

After a wait long enough to notice that enough time had elapsed between courses, a runner ran out two plates of food to the table next to us. They looked suspiciously like our order. After a few moments, the couple remarked to one another, "This doesn't look like what we ordered." Sure enough they had received our order. Imagine two tables in a restaurant furtively looking for a waiter or bus boy to alert them to a mistake. Then imagine about five more minutes elapsing before someone comes over. Than imagine, a waiter simply taking the plates off one table and putting them onto your table. If that happens at Parkway, ok. But with entree prices in the mid thirties, there is a level of service one expects. Unfortunately, these sort of things can derail a meal.

As for the entrees, nothing was bad. Except the mashed potatoes on Lindsay's plate, which had the texture of wallpaper paste. They had cooled by the time they got to our table, the butter and starch of the potatoes turning into glue. Lindsay's blackened drum was delicious and moist, but with a less than acceptable smattering of crabmeat. My paneed rabbit was well-seasoned and crusty. A touch dry, a sauce would have gone a long way to making that dish sing. Another element of the plate, jambalaya suffered the opposite fate. I have never had Creole sauce on jambalaya. Perhaps it is some traditional accompaniment. Perhaps I am out of my element, but on the jambalaya, it was a disaster. We each got the 1990's medley of sauteed vegetables, but nothing wrong with that. 

The waitress attempted to make up for the entree screw up by delivering a jar of Magic Seasonings Blends with the check. But by then, my mind was made up. Paul Prudhomme is a legend, a great deliverer, interpreter, and ambassador of Cajun culture. His books and products are wonderful and a welcome addition to your collections. His cooking shows are a downright pleasure. But, a trip to his restaurant, you can skip. 

K-Paul's Louisiana Kitchen - Feel free to skip.

416 Chartres Street

596-2530

Deli Lunch Tues.-Sat. 11:00 am - 2:00 pm

Dinner Mon.- Sat. 5:30 pm - 10:00 pm

Jambalaya

Bad Bart's Black Jambalaya

Jambalaya is one of those iconic local dishes that is at the top of every tourist's list of foods to try when visiting New Orleans. After watching Bourdain's journey to Acadiana a few weeks ago, even I have been overcome with a craving for those one pot dishes that our neighbors to the west do oh so well. But while I have little difficulty recommending where to find a good roast beef po-boy, cub of gumbo, or a dozen oysters on the half shell, I'll be damned if I don't draw a blank nearly every time someone asks me where they can get a worthwhile plate of jambalaya in New Orleans.

When confronted with such an inquiry from an out of town guest, many people would probably say, "You know, jambalaya is one of the dishes that we always make at home, so I never to think to look for it, much less order it, at a restaurant. Plus jambalaya is a cajun dish, and New Orleans is all about creole." While I accept that most locals prefer their jambalaya homemade and that the dish is not indigenous to Southeast Louisiana, I refuse to believe that there is not a respectable restaurant version to be found in the city.

One of the best that I have tasted in recent times is Bad Bart's Black Jambalaya from Crescent Pie & Sausage Co. This jambalaya gets its brown color not from tomato but from the aromatic spices and black eyes peas, whose inclusion I had never before seen. This is not a sticky jambalaya (which I also enjoy); the short grain rice retains their individuality. There is a decent - but not disproportionately large - amount of chicken, pork and sausage, all thin slices as opposed to massive hunks. The black eyed peas sometimes cannot be seen, but their texture is noticeable in the rice in that the starch from the beans seems to envelope each grain of rice, adding meatiness without heft. The flavor is neither overpoweringly spicy nor do you immediately reach for a bottle of Crystal after the first bite.

I happen to have sampled some more of Bad Bart's Black yesterday before the game at the Crescent Pie and NOLA Brewing tailgate at the corner of Girod and Loyola. This bowl (pictured above) was not as dark in color and the flavors not as bold as usual, but it was still delicious.

So while we are on the subject, where else can one find a great bowl of jambalaya? K-Paul's is an obvious choice, but I can't say that I have had tried Chef Paul's version in more than 10 years. Is the Jambalaya Supreme at Coop's Place worth waiting in line for?  (Ian McNulty seemed to think so, back in 2003.) Does the jambalaya meat pie at Cochon count?

Let us know about your favorite jambalaya in today's comments.

Lunch at K-Paul's

Back in February 2009, K-Paul's began "deli-style" lunch service on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. The premise is simple: the same classic cajun cooking served by K-Paul's at dinner, but in a more casual setting with faster service and at lower prices. Sounds like a winner, right?

Well, not only is lunch service at K-Paul's a winner, it might be the best lunch secret in the Quarter. On a recent visit, I was surprised how few tables were occupied. Our group walked right up to the bar to place our order and were served our food in less than 15 minutes.

The lunch service at K-Paul's works like this:

1. Order at the bar, where you also pay and grab your drink.
2. Take a seat anywhere you like in the dining room.
3. Napkins, condiments, and plastic silverware are on a centrally located table.
4. Food runners will call your name and then walk the food over to your table.

Each week K-Paul's posts a different lunch menu, on which no dish crosses the $14 threshold. The list usually includes gumbo, a soup special, a few salads, three or four po-boys and the same number of plate lunches. Seafood is prominently featured in many dishes, from the fried shrimp and oyster po-boys to the shrimp corn maque choux and seafood stuffed mirliton. But there is usually one or two down home classics to choose from, such as jambalaya, butter beans, or chicken and waffles.

I particularly enjoyed the fried flounder (above) - an enormous, khaki-crusted fillet fried to perfection. The accompanying cornbread dressing was moist and flavorful, but I missed the alleged shrimp and crabmeat component. But that was no flaw that the rich, roux-thickened gouda and bacon sauce could not ameliorate. And (as if I needed it) each sandwich and plate lunch comes with your one choice of several sides, which includes thinly shaved onion strings fried in a light batter that tasted like funnel cake.

Needless to say, it's tough to go back to the grind after a lunch like this. But thankfully you will finish with enough time to take a slow stroll through the French Quarter... and maybe just one round at the Napoleon House.