Dining Al Fresco

The courtyard at Martinique Bistro.

Although it's a rainy Monday morning, these past 2 weekends of beautiful weather have proven that Spring has begun, and with it the countdown has started on the fleeting outdoor dining season. When the sun is shining and the mercury reads 75° or lower, any time spent indoors seems like a missed opportunity, and that includes time spent eating.

Most of my outdoor dining is done on Saturday or Sunday during lunch, and at those times I usually have zero motivation to dress well enough to enjoy the setting of Commander's courtyard or the patio behind Bayona. Luckily, there are plenty of options casual enough to only require throwing on a pair of jeans.

Two weeks ago when I walked my dog through Exchange Alley, I could not believe how many tables The Green Goddess had set up outside. There had to be at least 40 diners enjoying Sunday brunch in the sun, and another 20 or so waiting patiently for the next available table. A few blocks away at Sylvain, the rear courtyard is usually full at all times, and that particular day was no exception. Headed toward Uptown, Martinique is always one of the first restaurants that come to mind during this time of year and is on a surprisingly short list restaurants that offers lunch/brunch on Saturday. Dante's Kitchen is also in that category, as is St. James Cheese Company, which is probably my favorite spot in the city for an outdoor lunch on Saturday.

What are restaurants to do when people are anxious to eat outside but they have no courtyard or patio? Throw a few tables out on the sidewalk, of course. La Petite Grocery and Coquette both offer front row seating to Magazine Street. The sidewalk tables at Cochon are usually full on almost every night during dinner. And although its not open for lunch on the weekends, it seems remiss to write about great outdoor dining spots without mentioning Herbsaint.

Yesterday as I drove down Freret Street, I noticed that Company Burger had set up picnic tables outside, and I had to appreciate the great lengths that restaurateurs will go to accomodate our ever so short al fresco dining season. Whether you are dining on Shrimp Henican in the courtyard at Commander's or scarfing down a roast beef po-boy on a white picnic table in the back parking lot at Parkway Bakery, be thankful that you are enjoying it while you can.

The Beet Goes On

The moment of reckoning finally arrived in sixth grade. The science fair. Every grammar student's (and parent's) worst nightmare. In the world which existed before wikipedia and google provided the solution to every problem, choosing a science fair project took hours of thumbing through encyclopedias and multiple trips to the public library to browse through periodicals for ideas to steal. And to raise the level of competition just a bit higher, the science fair was the only school project where it was both acceptable and expected for the parents to actively participate. Figuring out who had a doctor for a parent was simple - just look for the kid whose science project was entitled "A Thesis on the Causes of Chronic Pulmonary Problems in the Post-Industrial Era."

After 4 months of painstaking research, internal debate, and much procrastination, I finally decided on the subject of my science fair project approximately 36 hours before the deadline. "Natural Dyes" was the title. Basically, I made coloring agents out of different plants and wrote up a few blurbs about how the natural stuff was just as effective as synthetic paints. Remember what I said about parents assisting children with their projects? Yeah, well when I was in sixth grade, my Mom worked in sales for an upholstery cleaning company. A PhD was not required to understand that a coffee stain is, for all intensive purposes, a stain for life.

I never cared much for science class, and I did not win an award for my opus on the power of natural dyes. (I  believe that the first place ribbon went to 1 of the 15 geniuses who discovered that baking soda + vinegar = volcano eruption). However, one factoid I will always remember from my science project is this: Beets will stain your fingers for about 8 days if you are not careful. But it never really occurred to me that those blood red root veggies might actually be worth eating.

My first experience with beets as food occurred on a trip to Piccadilly, an episode which caused me to suffer with PTSD for the better part of a decade. In the last few years though, I have come to appreciate beets as a delectable delicacy, and lately there has been no shortage of opportunities to indulge. I would guesstimate that close to a third of the ambitious restaurants around town serve a dish which matches sweet roasted beets with a salty cheese. There is the roasted beet bruschetta with goat cheese at Sylvain, the burrata and beet salad at Herbsaint, and the beet and ricotta ravioli at Meauxbar. The popularity of the combination is a testament to it's success, and all of the above are delicious and worth ordering.

One of my favorite uses of beets was at La Petite Grocery, where Chef Justin Devillier used chilled roasted beets and thinly sliced pickled onion as a foundation for cold crabmeat salad spiked with horseradish. Just a phenomenal dish, whose flavors touched upon sweet, sour, spicy, and richness. Unfortunately, that dish is not a part of the current menu at La Petite, but I see that you can still get your beet fix with a salad also featuring arugula, toasted pecans, local citrus, and cane vinegar.

It probably comes as no surprise that my current favorite beet dish in the city comes from the kitchen of Alon Shaya at Domenica. The winter vegetable pizza: roasted yellow beets and carrots scattered with a little goat cheese upon that ethereal crust which just keeps getting better every time I try it. Simple and sublime.

So where are you getting your beet fix?

A Word of Appreciation

Even though Thanksgiving has come and gone and the only signs of Thursday's turkey can be found in today's gumbo, I feel that a few people were left off of my annual list of things to be thankful for.

Yesterday, I spent most of my waking hours at Gleason Gras, the first annual event to raise awareness for ALS and to support the family trust created to assist former New Orleans Saint Steve Gleason. Despite the cold, wet, windy weather, the entire day was a resounding success by all measures. There were personal appearances by Sean Peyton and Drew Brees. Music by Kristen Diable, Papa Grows Funk, and Better Than Ezra. And a heart felt and hilarious speech by the guest of honor.

But perhaps the day's best performance was by Cochon's Stephen Stryjewski, who stood all alone at the Cochon food booth for no less than 4 hours straight and served hundreds of cochon de lait po-boys to a never ending line of hungry hordes. No cashier or assistant cook. Just a man, a plan, and this pig:

We New Orleanians are extremely spoiled when it comes to food, and fundraising events are not granted an exception to our high standards. Common knowledge is that an enticing list of participating restaurants is the best way to increase attendance for any event, no matter what the cause.

What we often overlook is the fact that at many of these events, the restaurants donate the food with no strings attached.  When you consider not only the food cost but also the labor which restaurants undertake to participate at these events, the time, dollars, and cents add up significantly. Yet, seemingly every weekend, you can find the city's best chefs around town serving seafood gumbo, croque monsieurs, and roasted lamb sandwiches at fundraisers all over the area. Whether it be Justin Devillier from La Petite Grocery, who sold so many blue crab beignets yesterday at Gleason Gras that he dispatched someone to the restaurant after he ran out of supplies early in the afternoon, or Alon Shaya cooking up sausages on his Big Green Egg on Royal Street during the Party for the Troops.

While riding in the car on Saturday, I caught a brief segment of Tim McNally's "The Wine Show" in which he and a caller were discussing just how selfless many of our restaurateurs can be when it comes to donating to a worthy cause. Tim said: "Nowhere else in the nation will you find a head chef, on a Friday night during one of the biggest seasons of the year, serving free boudin to over 1500 people."

Just another reason to be thankful for living in New Orleans.

Shrimp & Grits

Shrimp & Grits at La Petite Grocery.

"What is a good place for shrimp and grits in FQ?"

Such read the text message from a friend whose wife was in town for a convention a few weeks back. I initially considered replying with: "You know that shrimp and grits is a South Carolina thing, right? How do you feel about grillades?" But the culinary geography lesson probably would have just spurned him into hounding me for an answer.

Still, I drew a blank. Where does one find shrimp and grits in the French Quarter and in New Orleans on the whole? Even though some of us may toss aside this imported dish as something far too inferior to be included in the list of iconic New Orleans breakfast dishes (if it ain't got hollandaise, why bother?), for quite a few years shrimp and grits has been an unstoppable rebel force like an LSU defense led by the Honey Badger. The popularity is unsurprising. We love our grits, and Lord knows we have fantastic local shrimp. Putting the two together seems as obvious a marriage as any.

Personally, I am not big on seafood at breakfast time, which is why I did not have much first hand experience to draw upon in answering my friend's question. According to my notes, the last time I ordered shrimp and grits was at La Petite Grocery, whose version I recall was studded with bits of porky goodness. I don't recall any pork products in the shrimp and grits that I tasted in Charleston a few years back, but has there ever been a time when the addition of bacon has not improved a dish? Still, I harken back to my first ever experience with shrimp and grits, which was the work of former Galatoire's chef Brian Landry (who spent a few years in Charleston), who cooked the "authentic" version for one Sunday breakfast at his mother's house.

My friend's wife ended up at Mr. B's as the closest option to her hotel, and she reported back that the shrimp and grits were delicious. But ever since this question came up, I have had a hankering for the dish. So where should I go?  Dante's Kitchen and EAT are often mentioned in the discussion as two of the top choices. Luke, Surrey's, and Upperline all have shrimp and grits on their menu. How about the shrimp over grit cake at Muriel's? Or will I head back to LPG? Let us know which local restaurant serves your favorite version of shrimp and grits in the comments.

The Heat Is On

Look, I understand that we live in a man-made concrete jungle in the middle of a swamp, but the heat lately has just been ridiculous. I appreciate this morning's gift of a taste of fall, but unfortunately I realize that the previews start at least a month or two before the premiere.

I was at the farmers market on Saturday morning for a total of 15 seconds before my shirt looked like it had been sprayed down with a gardening hose. You take one step outside of your air conditioned comfort zone, and it's like your entire body is instantaneously covered in one of those hot towels that the server hands you when you sit down at a sushi restaurant. Living downtown and having the luxury of walking to work has been transformed to a game of cat and mouse between finding the shadiest route and timing your departure so as to avoid having to wait for the crosswalk signal.

The Folk Singer has resigned to driving to work. We live three blocks from her office.

This August has almost sucked all of the enjoyment out of eating. I was craving a po-boy over the weekend, but knocking out a hot sausage po-boy from Parkway I had to take an ice bath for 3 hours just to get my core body temperature back down to 98.6. Firing up the grill outside is like paying russian roulette unless you have grilling tongs which stretch from your kitchen window out to the old Weber. Turning the oven on just seems completely counter intuitive considering that your primary goal is to keep your house as cool as possible. It's too bad that braised dishes are out of the question because you could cook osso buco simply by throwing a few veal shanks, tomato, and wine in a dutch oven and leaving it on the front porch while you are at work.

But all hope is not lost for culinary delight in the land of the 110 heat index. Here is a list of my favorite foods that help stave off the summer:

• Cold Soups - Gazpacho is the most well known (and rumor has it that Coquette's version is one of the best in town). At last week's Tuesday market at Tulane Square, I had an amazingly refreshing and flavorful vichychoisse served up by La Divina under the Green Plate Special tent. On the menu this week is a chilled cucumber soup with housemade creme fraiche and dill that sounds equally delightful.
• Pate, Cheese, & Olives - And wine of course, and maybe a loaf of bread. St. James Cheese Company is an obvious choice, but don't forget about the affettati misti at Domenica or the long list of offerings at the Delachaise.  Or stop by Butcher and build your own.
• Sushi - I won't open that can of worms again by telling you where to go, but let's just say that I have ejoyed a few strong meals at Horinoya over the past few weeks.
• Cold Crabmeat & Shrimp - Nothing wrong with a generous portion of shrimp remoulade or crabmeat maison over mixed greens with maybe a few slices of avocado or hearts of palm. I'm partial to the chilled roasted beets topped with crabmeat in a horseradish emulsion at La Petite Grocery.

Or you copy my dinner from last night by skipping dinner and knocking out a pint of mascarpone and lemon zest ice cream from the Creole Creamery.

What are your favorite foods that help beat the heat?

Beasts and Brass with a Shot of Fernet Branca

As this blog alluded to yesterday, Sunday's Beasts and Brass event is going to be a good time. But don't take our word for it. "It is going to be a good time," says Robert Peyton.

Here is the skinny. Starting Sunday at 5 is the Patron Party where for $85 (presale) or $100 (at door, you can enjoy music, food and drinks from over 30 New Orleans restaurants, live auctions, and those good times referenced above. Just look at the restaurants serving at the Patron Party:

Boucherie & The Cue Crawl, La Petite Grocery, Three Muses, Iris, Patois, Crescent Pie & Sausage Co., Martinique Bistro, Lilette, Dante's Kitchen, St. James Cheese Co., Satsuma, Le Foret, Cafe Rani, Brightsen's, Charlie's Seafood, Link Restaurant Group, Joel's Catering, Cure, Dante's Kitchen, The Green Goddess, Melissa's Fine Pastries, Zea, August, Luke, Domenica, Ralph Brennan Restaurant Group, River Shack Tavern, Oak Crest Mansion, Kajun Kettle Foods, Tracey's, Pal's Lounge.

At 9 pm, the ticket price drops to $20, the bar turns to cash, and the party keeps going until til.  More information here. The Blackened Out Twins are going which means there is a 90% chance of someone getting deported. Also, if you want to volunteer, the organizers are looking for people to help out. If so, shoot an email to Justin Devillier whose email is his first name at la petite grocery.

To take you off into a meditative and charitable state, here is a cocktail recipe courtesy of James Denio of Boucherie.

Good Medicine

1.5 oz Frenet-Branca
1.5 oz Cocchi Vermouth di Torino
1.5 oz Orange Pekoe Tea (iced) 
Dram of simple syrup ( barely a nip, just a hair) 
1 mint leaf

Served up in Collins glass. The drink is highly aromatic, and better served as a digestif rather then an aperitif because as it's name suggests, it does wonders on the belly after a good meal. Before-hand it can be a bit much on the palate, although personally I'd take it either way.

Instead of a cocktail glass which I believe is best used for drinks that employ citrus oils (from zesting) to create almost a tickling of the nose when you go in for that first sip, we're using a Collins, or tall water glass.  Here the aromatics can take over the olfactories well before the elixir hits the lips. The drink is equal parts all ingredients save the simple syrup (being just a pinch).  It's shaken and served up, taking just under half the glass's capacity, and leaving a good column for the aroma to travel.

Unlike other mixed drinks whose aggregate spirits the consumer may not enjoy on their own, yet blended create a flavor profile easily enjoyed, this drink may necessitate that the consumer likes Frenet-Branca to begin with, which is not to say the Frenet overpowers the cocktail, yet it is a uniquely potent element. The Cocchi vermouth adds a hint of chocolate, and the iced orange pekoe tea rounds out the otherwise heavily botanical ingredients. We spear a fresh mint leaf with a small cocktail straw and set it in the center of the cocktail, resting it upon the foam like a sail, it floats upon the head of the drink created by vigorous shaking before it's strained.

Both The Cocchi Vermouth di Torino, and Frenet-Branca are Italian spirits, and the drink was created to accompany what was to be our June menu of Italian influenced dishes put on hiatus due to Nathanial's attack on on the 22nd of May.  That menu is now taking shape here in July, with Nathanial coming in a few hours each day and changing the dishes one at a time rather then all at once as we've seen here at Boucherie in the past.  I'm excited to see what he pulls out of that brain of his.  It's good to have our boy back.

Fête Française

As we all know, springtime in New Orleans is full of outdoor festivals, but this Saturday is one of my favorites that flies under the radar. Each year Ecole Bilingue de la Nouvelle-Orléans hosts Fête Française, which proudly honors New Orleans’ connection to French food, arts and culture. This year's theme is "April in Paris" - perhaps the only other city in the world where I would rather be living right now.

Last year's Fête Française was my first, and I was thoroughly impressed to say the least.  The food rivals some of the best festival eats around, and the chefs themselves were out there doing the dirty work. Justin Devillier was grilling oysters outside La Petite Grocery; Donald Link was turning out magical croque monsieurs that were worthy of being included in Rene's ham sandwich writeup; and I had my first introduction with Taceaux Loceaux. Tipsy French exchange teachers were serving up moules frites, and there were Nutella crepes for dessert.

Beside the food, there is Kronenbourg on draft, champagne cocktails, live music, crafts, and a silent auction featuring magnums of wine, a week long stay at a chalet in the French countryside, and much more.

Fête Française. It may not be Paris in April, but it's certainly the next best thing.

Winesday

Writing about wine is a really easy way to either put people to sleep or make people convinced you are trying to make them feel stupid. Wine is a very ordinary thing. Or more accurately, wine should be an everyday occurrence, spoken about in plain English (if spoken about at all). But too often wine discussion becomes a battle of the snoots with people saying things like "The wine begins with a jaunt through a field of frostbitten arugula and ends with a box of Louboutins on Easter Sunday."

Really? What the hell does that taste like. And more importantly, why would you ever want to drink that?

The Pope knows people. This happens when you are elected by the College of Cardinals. So a few weeks ago, we met one of the Pope's "Wine Guys." Discussions about wine began and the following idea was hatched. The idea is simple, if you remove pretense and preconceptions can someone write about wine without sounding like an asshole?

Last week, Joe the Wine Guy dropped off a case of wine for us. The labels and any other identifying marks were either removed or covered up from the twelve different bottles in the box. Once a week, Peter and I get together, and open the wine. We take a few sips and without consulting each other write down our most basic thoughts. We aren't trying to guess the vintage or the grape or whether the winemaker used new oak or whether it was bottled under a new moon. Nope, we just want our gut reaction to the wine.

Wine is made to go with food. So we also want to know, what kinds of food would this be good with. So, we both write down the name of a restaurant and a dish at the restaurant. Again just collecting our stream of consciousness.

At the end of article, Joe the Wine Guy gives us his notes on what the wine really is and where you can find it. By the way, we don't know his thoughts until after we have tasted and written down our own.

That is it. The point isn't to get it right. It is just to keep it simple, stupid. Ohh and drink some wine; that is the real point.

Peter: Not surprisingly, this red wine tastes fruity - grapes, blackberries, blueberries. Not tannic enough for a steak, but maybe game birds. Roasted simply where the wine could act as the fruit sauce. Cafe Atchafalaya's Boudin Stuffed Quail or Cafe Minh's Lacquered Duck come to mind.

Rene: A red wine. Not heavy, but coats the mouth well. Fresh, blackberry flavor with cedarwood flavor at the end. Light tannins, good acidity, palate cleansing. Would want to drink this with something braised. For that, I go to the root beer braised short ribs at La Petite Grocery.

Joe the Wine Guy:  This week's wine is a 2008 Termes from Bodega Numanthia, a wine made from the Tempranillo grape. This selection features intense fruity aromas such as raspberry and cherry along with flowering ones like violets. When you taste it, you first get an explosion of fruit then you get spices, tobacco, raspberries, and blackberries. The wine is aged in French oak Bordeaux style barrels for 16 months. You can find it at The Wine Seller, Galatoire's, French Market Bistro, and Elios. Retail price is $29.

"Would Anyone Care for Dessert?"

During the holiday season, most diners throw caution to the wind when it comes to money spent, drinks imbibed, and calories consumed.  If there ever is a time to splurge and order dessert, that time is now.

Which got me to thinking: What is the best dessert in the city? Last week I made a strong case for the Peanut Butter Cup Pie at Cochon, with it's rich chocolate ganache and creamy peanut butter mousse. Turns out that dish may have been bested just a few days later, with another grown-up version of a classic kid's favorite.

As Rene put it, the Smores dessert at La Petite Grocery, "Rules my face." This dessert has a graham cracker crust, rich chocolate filling, and a layer of toasted marshmallow on top. The best part is cutting through the Smore with a spoon and then dragging it across the plate to the scoop of slowly melting chocolate ice cream on the opposite side. Absolutely delicious.

I must confess that I do not normally order dessert when I dine, not so much because I don't like dessert but rather because I figure that I should skip the extra calories. But when I do order dessert, 99 times out of 100 the concoction will predominantly feature chocolate. I am not big on fruit desserts.

So which restaurant makes your favorite dessert? Is it a special version of bread pudding, banana cream pie at Emeril's, or the dulce de leche crepes at La Boca?  Willy Wonka, our requisite Sultan of the Sweet Tooth, lays claim that the seasonal blueberry crumble at Herbsaint takes the cake.

What say you?

2010 Challenge: Picklin' Dixie

Chefs, cooks, and butchers across America have learned again the beautiful craft of charcurterie. The rediscovery of charcuterie has also birthed a renaissance in the fine art of pickling, relishing, and jamming. Terrines, pates, and rillettes fly out of the country's best kitchens, accompanied by little casseroles of mustard, sour cornichons, fruited jellies, and, of course, pickles. The acidity or sweetness, salty or sour flavor of the accompaniments harmoniously contrasts the richness of the charcuterie.

In the last few months alone, I've eaten pate de campagne at August served with no less than six accouterments. Cochon's spicy pork ribs would not be as satisfying were it not for the crunch and tang of the watermelon rind pickles. At La Petite Grocery the housemade boudin and pickles are a wonderful way to ease into a long lunch. Shoot, even the slimy, pale green po-boy pickles have a place in our cuisine.

Plus, if you choose to make pickles at home, the possibilities of pickle pun-filled commentary is an at an all time low.

Pickling

Don't worry about pickling. This is not difficult, and there is very little chance of screwing it up. You are doing little more than placing produce in an acidic and salty soak for three months in a fridge. I'm pretty certain you can handle that.

I followed the instructions in Ruhlman and Polcyn's Charcuterie. It calls for you to combine white wine vinegar, water, salt, peppercorns, pickling spice (make it yourself or buy), and dill seeds. Boil this mixture for three minutes, pour it over whatever you want to pickle, and let it sit in the fridge for 3 weeks.

You can pickle most about anything, but I started with some pickling cucumbers and watermelon rind. Into a mason jar goes your soon-to-be pickle of choice, a few sprigs of dill, and the liquid. I chose to cut up the rind and the cucumbers into little disks and cubes, but do whatever you like.

Will it work? Check back in three weeks.

La Petite Grocery

One of the ideas we have had here is to create a Family Tree of New Orleans chefs. It would trace the lineage of chefs through those they trained under and whom they in turn trained.

Justin Devillier, chef at La Petite Grocery, would present quite the challenge. Not because of figuring out who he trained under, but deigning where he is going. His cuisine mixes locally driven ingredients with haute Cajun techniques against a backdrop of refined, bistro cuisine. Devillier - along with Mark Falgoust, Sue Zemanick, and Nathaniel Zimet - is part of the new vanguard of chefs pushing our cuisine forward by adding to the Creole canon new ethnic flavors. Where you can find crab beignets sharing the menu with Asian, Mexican, Middle Eastern flavors on duck, crab, shrimp, and the rest of the lot.

The kitchen does things with boudin which should only take place behind closed doors. While the fried boudin balls at Cochon get all the press, the ones here are addictive. They are smaller and pack a greater wallop of liver. Eat them up before your friend comes back from the bathroom. Chilled roasted beets and pickled red onion serve as a base for blue crab (or crawfish tails now in season) dressed with a palate perking horseradish emulsion. The steak tartare here also deserves your attention. The meat is cubed into a fine dice and sent out with a quail egg, traditional garnishes, and a sauce which marries mustard and red wine in such a good fashion it should be the official sauce of Dijon.

Short ribs have been around the block more times than Larry King, but at LPG they are cooked in an intense root beer based broth which ties the beverage of the Gulf Coast to the flavorings of Vietnamese pho - star anise, cloves, and other hard spices. A thick, warming sauce coats the beef with rib sticking qualities. Potato croquettes dot the plate, their crunchy exterior and creamy inside mixing the best qualities of the french fry and mashed potato into one bite.

The pork shank, a special on a cold night in February, would have made a caveman happy. The huge, cylinder of meat coiled around the bone on top of greens braised with slivers of garlic and loads of pork. (Might we suggest LPG start selling the pot likker by the gallon?) Same goes for the creamy stoned ground grits available with local shrimp at lunch or just as a side dish at any time of day. This is comfort food at it's core, but damn is it good.

Where the kitchen falters is where it tries to wrangle in national trends. Duck breast on a recent visit arrived a little too rare. This trend needs to stop. We understand it is hip, but so was New Kids on the Block at one point. Duck develops its sensual, deep flavor when it is cooked past medium, and if done properly it does not dry out. But undercooked duck is stringy and unpleasant. That criticism aside, go boldly in the direction of your dreams, Chef.

The wine list shows good range bouncing from the hearty, earthy reds from Chateauneuf-duPape, to the lemony freshness of the affordable Ferrari-Carano Fume blanc. You can blow the budget on the big Napa Cabs on the list, but there are values and options for all. Of course there is the nearly required list of specialty cocktails, but their Sazerac is the best choice.

Justin's wife, Mia, recently joined the team to lead the front of the house (née of Lilette). As a result, we have noticed what has always been good service begin to rise to the level of greatness. Case in point: on the cold, draft eve of the pork shank the suggestion to steer away from a glass of white wine and to a Sazerac turned out to be just what was needed. "They are a team. They needed one another," said Joel Dondis, owner, recently.

La Petite Grocery has a rising star in the kitchen, whose experiences, training, and background begets a new approach to bistro cuisine in New Orleans. The building is well-adorned, the bar handsome, the service smart. So what are you waiting for?

The Rankings

Food - Birdie. The kitchen needs to drop any allegiance to national trends and keep pushing forth in developing their unique style. Devillier's best dishes are the ones that sound simplest: braised greens, slow simmered meats, etc...

Wine/Bar/Service - Birdie. A wine list this thorough in what is a small, neighborhood spot requires serious purchasing power. Which La Petite Grocery has in spades with Joel Dondis behind it. But instead of just throwing a dart at the priciest wines in the portfolio, they have chosen smart options which pair well with Devillier's cooking at any price point.

Overall - Birdie. La Petite Grocery fits a perfect niche for what they are doing. They are steps above the neighborhood spot in terms of cooking, service, and price; yet affordable and accessible enough for a pop in every few weeks. Be it for dinner, lunch, or a glass of wine and some snacks.

La Petite Grocery

Last month we were invited to La Petite Grocery to taste some of the new menu items that Chef Justin Devillier has been fooling around with. (Full Disclosure: We did not pay for any food. However, what we saved in food costs, we more than made up for in alcohol sales by sampling the cocktail menu - which was also pretty good.) We tried probably 10 or 12 dishes, most of which were good, but few of which photographed well. Here is the best of what we could capture on film.

House-made agnolloti pasta stuffed with blackeyed peas. Almost as unconventional as it was delicious. If you are a vegetarian or denying yourself pork for some masochistic reason, then run to LPG if they are ever offering this dish as a special.

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Boudin balls, housemade as well. Delicious and popped in your mouth, revealing a smooth and spicy interior. The balls sat on top of chow chow. Ha, we said balls.

Seared ahi tuna with sweet onion jam and miso broth. Yes, seared tuna runs rampant through almost every menu and can be ordered nearly anywhere nowadays. But when a dish is done well (as in this case), you should not feel ashamed in enjoying it. This tuna was still succulent the next day, as Lindsay can attest to because she ate our leftovers for lunch. (Rene never takes her anywhere....)

How we also managed to consume this slab of braised short rib I have no idea. But I'm glad we did.

Other less-photogenic foods that we liked were: collard greens (redolent with pork), tuna carpaccio, french fries, and a creative little dessert of a mason jar filled with tart yogurt topped with a cold blueberry compote. I also think that LPG may serve some of the best grits in the city: thick, coarsely-ground yellow corn cooked with plenty of butter and cream.