Mandina's: Is It Worth It?

Mandina's is an easy trek for most conventioneers. Hop on the Canal street car line and jump off when you see a Pepto Bismol pink building on your left. Katrina induced renovations robbed the dining room of its charm, but that charm revolved around a place which looked like it had been ridden hard and hung up wet. The new Mandina's is more expansive with rich woods and earth tones accented by the ubiquitous Jazz Fest placards.

At some point the friendly and efficient staff will offer your table rounds of French bread dripping with melted butter. These are to be avoided. Not because they aren't delicious, but more because you have likely over-ordered. If you gorge on the bread there likely won't be room for the bread pudding. Onion rings are fat sliced and coated in a cakey, crumbly batter. They are devoid of the snappy crispness of a great fried food. There are quite a few hallmark onion rings around town, these are not in that number. 

Of the soups, go for the seafood gumbo which is robust and thick with a seafood stock that jumps with a splash of Crystal hot sauce. The turtle soup was a huge disappointment. As the sherry poured on top, it sat and pooled above the potage which was was thick and jiggly with a bland khaki brown color. Had this soup been a custard, it would have been spot on. The meat in the soup was grainy and mealy, perhaps chicken livers were used. 

Entrees fared a bit better. An open faced roast beef sandwich was a gut buster with a Colossus of thin sliced meat and debris strewn gravy covering sliced (but untoasted) bread. An Indian mound of crispy fries completed the ensemble. Of course, putting all of this into a po boy would have made more sense. But there is a certain perverse joy about attempting to tackle a mound of beef. "Only seen one person finish the whole thing," our waiter mentioned. 

Stuffed peppers here come stuffed with shrimp, meat, and eggplant dressing and covered in creole sauce. They are flavorful, moist and purely indulgent. A choice of sides is offered, Lindsay asked for peas and got peas and mashed potatoes, not that anyone was complaining. Although Lindsay was slightly pouty that the macaroni and cheese this special is usually served with was kaput.  A few beers rounded out the meal. We didn't have room for bread pudding (see above for why). 

Is Mandina's worth it? That is a tough call. The food is far from ideal and there are countless things that could or should be done better. But restaurants like Mandina's thrive in every city imaginable. They are where you take grandma for her birthday. Or swing by when that afternoon wedding around the corner leaves you slightly buzzed and very hungry. Mandina's is well-loved and seemingly thriving. But in making my judgment, I keep coming back to the food. And while there are some highlights at Mandina's, I am not sure they are better than the same dishes elsewhere. 

Mandina's - Worth it? Feel free to skip.

3800 Canal St. 

(504) 482-9179

Winesday

Rene: First whiff of the wine smells like cinnamon and a humidor. On the palate, this wine is heavy but flighty, jumping from spicy flavors to the almost overwhelming taste of cherries. This is a very smooth wine that would be perfect in front on a fireplace after a long meal. Unfortunately, it rarely gets cold in enough in New Orleans for a fireplace. This wine wants grilled lamb, but something with more bite than simple lamb chops. How about the grilled lamb ribs from Patois. That'll do.

Peter: This wine is rich but not overly tannic, with a slight burn down the back of the throat (Ed. Note: Say to yourself, "That's what she said"). The first flavor profile that comes to mind is cocoa. Thinking red meat (shocker, I know). Had a few veal and beef cheek dishes lately, thinking of the one from Sylvain that is the dinner menu.

Joe the Wine Guy: With great structure, depth, and concentration, the 2006 Three Palms Vineyard Merlot from Sterling Vineyards is intense with ripe black cherry aromas and expansive flavors. On the palate you get mineral, mocha, spices, rose and toasty oak. You can find it at the Renaissance Arts Hotel and Mandina's; this wine retails for around $30.

Consistency

"The food was good, but nothing exciting."

I have found myself saying this a lot lately when talking about a restaurant, and my guess is that I'm not the only one. It's understandable though. Compared with meals full of guanciale and goat cheese croquettes and steaming bowls of pho, a plate of veal parmesan or red beans and rice isn't as enticing as it once was. But don't fall into the trap of believing that just because a restaurant is old (and its menu unchanged) makes it unworthy of your dining dollars. A meal does not have to be life changing to be good.

Mandina's is the perfect example to illustrate my point. In our April review in offBeat, we harped on how even though the food is the antithesis of innovative, Mandina's should still be celebrated for its persistence. For over 75 years the Mid-City stalwart has served as a reliable restaurant where patrons still flock for good (not great) food. And there is nothing wrong with that.

"I know what I like, and I like what I know." This is what I say to myself when I walk into Mandina's.

I like a gigantic tower of crisp onion rings to start.

I like the turtle soup even though there is not a speck of turtle meat in the cup.

And I like huge plates of spaghetti and meatballs covered in the New Orleans style red gravy that we natives grew up on.

A few weeks back I was eating dinner at Mandina's on a Thursday night with The Pope and the Battle House Honey, and there was a table of 2 middle-aged female tourists sitting next to us. I could just tell that they had been so proud of themselves for finding this locals-only place, yet they were not wowed by their food in anyway. I wanted to pull up a chair and try to explain why their meal felt so short of their expectations, but my tablemates held me back. So much for the better though. Consistency cannot be defined in only one meal.

Mandina's - Par

Behind the Menu: Miss Hilda's Salad

Yesterday I joined The Pope for lunch at Mandina's with his father, The Bald Eagle, who has a longstanding tradition of Monday lunch at that Mid City landmark. Now I will agree that Mandina's serves neither the best nor the most innovative food, but I still love it for what it is: a neighborhood restaurant which thrives while the rest of that genre (Katie's and Landry's for example) have slowly faded away. And thrive it has, with a number of people still waiting at the bar when I left around 1:30.

Luckily for me, The Bald Eagle was already seated and had an Old Fashioned in hand when I arrived. After a shared appetizer of onion rings and what seemed like an entire basket of melba toast, I opted for a cup of turtle soup and Miss Hilda's Salad. My order prompted a history lesson from The Bald Eagle, who is a veteran of the local restaurant industry:

The Bald Eagle: Do you know why it's called Miss Hilda's Salad?
Peter: No.
The Bald Eagle: Because Miss Hilda did not want to call it a WOP Salad, even though that's basically what it is, so she named it after herself.
Peter: That's interesting. But can you explain why there are enough salted meats, cheese, and anchovies in this salad to cause me instant hypertension?
The Bald Eagle: Shut up, a**hole.

And now you've heard ... the rest of the story.

Monday, Monday

"Every other day, every other day,

Every other day of the week is fine, yeah

But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes

You can find me cryin' all of the time."

I always find this song playing in my head on a Monday after a Saints loss.  I have a strong belief in the truth of the rumor that productivity in New Orleans on the Monday after a Saints loss is markedly decreased.  Some people might say that we have misplaced priorities.  We call it passion for our city and for our team.

But thankfully, Monday always calls for one of my favorite meals (no matter if the Saints win or lose): red beans and rice.  It's a dish so delicious yet so simple to make that it seems ludicrous to order them when dining out.  Still, some places cook them better than others, and it's usually the neighborhood joints that do them best.  Here are a few of my favorite spots to get a plate of these delicious legumes:

1. Dunbar's - Now comes complete with a JD from Loyola.
2. Mandina's - The only day that they serve them is Monday.
3. Acme Oyster House - Sure, they don't make them in house (I am pretty sure they get them from this guy), but that doesn't make them any less savory.
   
4. Ignatius Grocery - I just wish that they would put ice in their drinks.
5. Liuzza's - And a Fat Kid Special?

Note: I hear that EAT also has great red beans; but they ain't open on Mondays, and I refuse to order red beans at a restaurant on any other day except Monday.