Bayona: Is It Worth It?

A collection of cocktails at Bayona

Susan Spicer has been a culinary bad ass for about thirty years longer than the cronut will be popular. Bayona, which she opened with Regina Keever almost a quarter century ago, has been welding cuisines together long before the term fusion. A look around at the chefs of the city's newest darlings reveals that many of them made a stop on Dauphine at one time or another. Spicer's cookbook is solid gold and Mondo is a worldly enough neighborhood restaurant that stock in it could one day be traded on the NYSE. Hagiography done.

But eating at Bayona? Does anyone do that enough?

The answer is probably not. 

It is easy to draw parallels between the interior of Bayona and the much missed Bistro at the Maison de Ville. This would make sense as Spicer was the opening chef of that vaunted establishment. Dark, rich fabrics, sturdy furnishings, paintings, and tablecloths cloak the successive rooms in what would give a modern restaurant designer a heart attack. Service is considerate, young, and punctual enough for you to offer them a job babysitting. They'll even track down a cocktail recipe, should you ask. 

The food at Bayona has always begged to be defined but rarely captured with a simple phrase. Creole seems too generic, world cuisine too self-important, eclectic too dismissive. The food is fantastic. Let's just define it like that.

Spicer's best work is in the early stages of a meal. Her sweetbreads know no peer. Plump and crisp their creaminess plays foil to crisp potatoes and earthy beets. Italian arancini get a Provence, Yall twist with tart goat cheese and Alabama peaches filling in for mozzarella and red gravy. Simplicity as the rule applies on her crouton plastered with goat cheese and adorned with mushrooms in a Madeira cream. A roasted garlic soup is just that: roasted garlic, onions, stock, thickened with bread. 

The smoked duck PB&J is too rich by half and I always regret ordering it. In theory, it sounds like a winner. Smoked duck, cashew butter, and pepper jelly piled onto toasted bread; but the sandwich's flavors come across as muddled and confused. Better is a bowl of barbecue shrimp, pimento cheese grits, and greens which is like putting together an awesome plate of food at a heavenly church picnic.

You likely haven't been to Bayona in some time. Remedy that. And one more thing, get the watermelon jalapeno cocktail. After you do, email me for the recipe.

Bayona: Is It Worth It? Yes.
430 Dauphine St.
525-4455

Dueling Bloggers: Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Last Saturday while poking around the Farmer's Market, a devoted reader who is not related to either of us, asked, "You guys should debate restaurants that never change their menus." The reader went on to note that they had gone to Lilette the night before "for about the thousandth time" and that the menu never changes. "We really like Lilette, but come on!" he implored. So without further ado, let's debate menus and restaurants.

Rene: The idea of the ever evolving menu at a restaurant is a relatively new one. Well, that is not entirely true. Places like Chez Panisse and the thousand of French restaurants it was inspired by have served different menus everyday. Certainly a restaurant with an ever changing menu has become very popular in the last ten years. This is mostly due to the proliferation and abundance of farmers markets along with a growing sense of seasonal based cooking. All of which is a long winded way of saying, while I enjoy restaurants that are always challenging themselves to work with what God gives them, I am not sold that a restaurant has to use that formula to be considered great. The idea of a restaurant constantly changing its menu is more a reaction to what the consumer wants. Through magazines, shows, etc... the way a restaurant appeals to consumers is by being "market inspired". While it is a noble and delicious goal, it tends to make many restaurants seem monotonous. I want more personality out of a restaurant.

Peter: You know what lacks personality? Tomatoes in December and oysters in July. Should a chef force himself to use scientifically altered produce and frozen seafood just because his customers want to eat the same crawfish etouffee in November that they did in May? Or does it make more sense for a chef to talk to his suppliers, figure out what the harvest brought this week, and decide what to tailor his menu toward the freshest ingredients available? Changing your menu to reflect the seasons is not monotonous; serving Oysters Rockefeller and Baked Alaska everyday for 170 years is.

Rene: Distilling it down even further, there are chefs the world over who have created dishes people travel to taste. I am thinking of bites like Robuchon's pommes puree, Thomas Keller's Oysters and Pearls, or Drago's chargrilled oysters. Dishes define restaurants. No trip to Herbsaint is complete for me without an order of spaghetti with guanciale and fried poached egg. There is no reason for a menu to change completely when there are dishes that can stand the test of time. I don't begrudge either tactic a restaurant may take, but I get cravings for specific dishes or specific approaches to food more than I get cravings for a specific restaurant. Imagine the horror if you walked into La Boca and learned they had become vegetarian?

Peter: My worst nightmare is walking into La Boca and having Jared tell me that the sweetbreads and hanger steak have been replaced by watermelon carpaccio and eggplant stuffed with bulgur wheat. That being said, I understand that sometimes I can order flash fried brussels sprouts with my skirt steak and other times I have to settle for asparagus. Just as the crops change with the seasons, so do my tastebuds, which is why I'm more likely to opt for a restaurant that serves vichychoisse in the summer instead of one that insists on serving gumbo even when its 110 degrees outside. And maybe if we as consumers are more willing to accept the fact that we can't always order what we want, then our ecosystem will become more sustainable and less reliant on foods with artificial preservatives.

Rene: Take for instance, Boucherie which is always cycling in new dishes, cuisines, and techniques into their repertoire. Go there this month and Indian may be the theme. However, one is always guaranteed to find a few select dishes - the boudin balls, the grit cake with blackened shrimp - never leave. They don't leave the menu because they are an anchor to the chef's vision. A constantly changing menu is a sign of a chef who is both continuing to learn and also unsure of his or her food personality. I don't mean to say a chef should ever stop learning and expanding, but rather I like them to know a hit when they taste it.

Peter: You have enunciated what is known as the Great Compromise, a/k/a the Three-Fifths Compromise. If a restaurant allocates 60% of its menu to the greatest hits and the other 40% to dishes comprised of seasonal ingredients or the chef's own innovations, then harmony is achieved both by giving the people what they have come to expect from the kitchen and by allowing the chef enough room both to stay creative and to take advantage of nature's cycle. Boucherie and Herbsaint are great examples, but Susan Spicer has it down to a science at Bayona. On the left side of the menu are the signature dishes - goat cheese crouton, garlic soup, sweetbreads with sherry mustard - and on the right side of the menu are the nightly specials that change with the chef's whim and whatever raw ingredients are available. A little something for everyone.

Talking Cookbooks

I had a friend in college whose vice was vices. You name it, gambling, drinking, drugs, reality tv, he was addicted to it. He has since cleaned up and turned into a fine man. Point is, we all have vices. Food and wine are two of the most addictive and expensive vices on the planet. And certainly both Peter and I battle with these diseases all the time.

But my most intense and burning vice is buying cookbooks. It doesn't even have to be a good cookbook. I own scores of Low Carb, No Fat, No Fun cookbooks whose spines have never been cracked. There are cookbooks from restaurants, I'll never visit; chef's who will never cook for me. There is even a cookbook for cooking with kids. We don't have kids.

Cookbooks can be divided into two main categories: 1) those you can cook from and 2) those that inspire or show you possibilities. The two categories are not mutually exclusive, but by way of illustration any of Ina Garten's amazing books would fall into the first, while A Day at El Bulli falls into the later.


Every few weeks, Lindsay and I will get the urge to head to a bookstore, plop down in the cookbook section, and just start pulling books from the shelf like an addict searching for a fix at a methadone clinic. Our cookbook collection spans two areas of our house. Downstairs in a nook just pass the kitchen is four shelves of cookbooks we thumb through at least once a month. The books in this book nook number about 65 and are comprised of both Category 1s and 2s. Upstairs on two bookshelves that used to house history or law books are the books that have fallen out of rotation like last season's fashions. This is where many of the low carb, healthy cooking options live.

Most Saturday mornings begin with a walk around City Park. This is followed by a cup of coffee on the back deck, WWOZ (pledge drive going on now) on the old vacuum tube radio, and a gaggle of cookbooks. A week's menu is set and off we go. Rarely do I follow a recipe's instructions from start to finish with the rigidity of a recruit in the Marines. Here are six great cookbooks that are both a 1 and a 2 and that generally their recipes are followed. This is by no means exhaustive, just what I find myself reaching for time and time again.

1) Frank Stitt's Southern Table - A few years ago at a party, a few chefs from town were talking about cookbooks. Finally, the tone hushed and one of them reverentially said to me, "Do you have Stitt's Southern Table?" "I do not." "Go home and buy it, it is the best New Southern cookbook."

He was right. Stitt blends his youth in Alabama, and the traditions therein, with the sensibilities of the cuisines of Europe. So you will find pork seared and topped with a pecan and mint pesto or hearty bean stews equally adept at combating the Mistral as the North Wind off Lake Pontchartrain.

2) Donald Link's Real Cajun - How much more can I say about this cookbook. Trust me, if you don't own this, you are either a fool or dead.

3) Loukie Werle's Italian Country Cooking - In this book Loukie Werle captures what makes Italian cooking so special: simple reliance on the best ingredients, unfussed with and a minimal amount of steps. Her white bean soup with olive oil is one of the first things we cook when the weather turns cool.

4) David Watluck's Staff Meals - Sadly Chanterelle closed this past summer, but for over 30 years it was one of New York's favorite restaurants. Luckily for you, this cookbook details what Watluck and his staff served to each other at staff meal. This cookbook spans the cuisines of the culinary world; you will find Hungarian dishes, Asian comfort foods, American classics like hamburgers, and even a roast chicken recipe.

5) Gordon Ramsay's Healthy Appetite - I know, I know, he is a mean guy. But occasionally we like to eat healthy. And this book is one of the few that is neither preachy, scolding, nor devoid of flavor. There is a summer asparagus salad with shaved fennel, poached egg, and pancetta that is one of the best salad recipes I've ever run across.

6) Susan Spicer's Crescent City Cooking - See #2.

2010 Challenge: Gautreau's

When Dre and Dieter were in town, we spent the Saturday night before Easter in the warm embrace of Sue Zemanick, chef at Gautreau's. Of the multitude of delicious things we ate that evening, one in particular has stuck in my craw. It was a simple dish of smoky, braised collard greens topped by a perfectly crisp sweetbread. While I can complain that one orb of gland seemed miserly, the flavor of the dish spoke volumes about how talented Chef Zemanick is.

So of course I had to try it at home.

Sweetbreads with Collard Greens and Mustard Beurre Blanc

A few things off the bat. Most cuts of meat from any animal can be called "gross" by someone. That said, sweetbreads are not the balls of any animal. They come from the thymus gland of a calf or lamb, but mostly the former. When cooked properly, they become tender and rich like a teenage millionaire with low self esteem.

Now where to find them? Well, I am sure if you asked your grocer, they could source them for you. But the friendly and knowledgeable folks at the Rare Cuts in River Ridge have them in stock. Cooking sweetbreads is a multi-step, two day process. The first step is to soak the sweetbreads overnight in some cold water in the fridge. Change the water every few hours. This draws out many of the impurities and blood.

I used the basic technique for cooking sweetbreads from Susan Spicer's Crescent City Cooking. Here is the short form, mirepoix in pan, saute for 5 minutes. Add sweetbreads, wine, water to cover, salt, bay leaf, peppercorns. Bring to boil, then lower for a simmer, and cook until tender like a young woman's breast (her words, not mine).

Then plunge sweetbreads into an ice bath, place on a baking sheet, place another baking sheet on top, weigh it down, and let smoosh in the fridge for at least an hour. Then you can trim off some of the outer membrane and portion. Dust in flour and pan fry in some olive oil and butter.

While the sweetbreads cooked, cooled, and smooshed, make some collards. Saute small dice of tasso until crusty. Add to this a diced onion and some whole garlic cloves. I like to keep the garlic whole because it develops a sweet, nutty flavor. Then add your collards, some salt, hot sauce, cup of water (or stock), and slowly cook for as long as you got.

I made a simple mustard beurre blanc with some wine, mustard and butter in order to bring some acid and punch to what are very rich and hearty flavors. If you want the recipe, just ask, but Google is easier.

Cooking sweetbreads at home had its trying moments, as learning how to cook them is something that is best shown by example rather than read in a book. For instance, distinguishing between membrane, fatty tissue, and the meat proved challenging.

At the end of the excursion, we had a meal that wasn't overly challenging to prepare, but brought a sense of celebration to the table. We pulled out the nice wine glasses, the "company" place mats, and ate while the rain thundered down. Perhaps more importantly, the process also made me appreciate how a well-made sweetbread in a restaurant speaks volumes about a chef's craft.

A Cookbook You Should Own

Many restaurant chefs attempt to write a cookbook filled to the brim with authentic recipes from the kitchen of __________. Most of the times these books fail. This is due to a variety of factors. First, they have skills that pay bills. Second, they have kitchens the size of your house. Third, they have a team of assistants and chefs who ply them with things like lobster stock and hen of the woods mushrooms caked in mud.

Susan Spicer, along with Paula Disbrowe, has pulled off the impossible in Crescent City Cooking. Together they have crafted a cookbook which not only makes you want to go to Bayona, but also to cook her food at home. And for the most part, the brilliance of her cooking translates into dishes you can actually make And without needing a flock of sous chefs or immersion circulators.

Chef Spicer's Garlic Soup has been a mainstay on our table at Thanksgiving for the last two years. Here is the essence of the recipe: low heat, loads of garlic and onions, let them turn mahogany as the bird in the oven, add stock, chunks of day old french bread, blend. That didn't hurt one bit, did it?

Over July 4th, the blog tested her jalepeno roast pork. Again here is the jist: take jalepeno, garlic, olive oil, mash em together, and coat pork butt, roast low and slow and covered, for four hours. The meat shreds into a succulent, earthy expression of X Rated Pork. You can feed an army with this recipe for about $10. The following day the remainder of the pork went into a pot with some tomato sauce, cumin, and beer to create a delicious taco filing.

Jalepeno roasted pork with queso fresco, hot sauce and parsley

Crabmeat is da bomb dot com blackslash your mom (trying to avoid spam mail) right now. I am not a fan of hot crabmeat, to me it always seems a poor use of a brilliant ingredient. Chef Spicer's cold crabmeat salad is tart and tangy, a delightful foil for the buttery rich crabmeat blessing our markets right now. While it may seem a little unnecessary to blanch diced carrots, if that is "hard", take a week and try to make Keller's salmon cornets.

Cookbooks, for me, are often just a great insight into the mind of a cook and a place to learn new flavor combinations and techniques. But somehow through a combination of charm, sincerity, and toughness, I find myself not only following Chef Spicer's recipes to the T, but also wanting to experiment with her ideas (see tacos). That's a good book in mine.

FYI: Ms. Disbrowe also co-wrote Donald Link's cookbook which I have merely glanced at, but I hear it is just as good.

Crescent City Cooking-Eagle.

Chef Spicer's Pickled Shrimp Boil

Shrimp and Cocktails

If you have not already purchased Susan Spicer's Crescent City Cooking, go get a copy now. The stories behind her cooking and recipes are intriguing and the end results so far have been exceptional. Recently we made Chef Spicer's "Pickled Shrimp" which is a mouth puckering, briny take on the everyday boiled shrimp with cocktail sauce. The directions are easy, just boil shrimp, toss while warm in vinegar sauce, and let the shrimps soak up that delicious flavor. Serve with crusty french bread.

Berries are in season, and there is little better use for fresh berries than in a Cocktail. That way you can feel good about eating fruits. Here is a basic recipe for a crushed berry cocktail.

Take handful of berries, drop in glass or cocktail shaker. Add a healthy dose of sugar or simple syrup, and a few sprigs of herb (mint works well, so does basil), muddle together. Add crushed ice, spirit of choice (light rum, vodka, and gin would be the best bet), a squirt of lemon, and top with splash of club soda. Shake vigorously. Strain into highball glass. Sit back and enjoy.
The above cocktail is the Huatulco Tickler, which employed blackberries, a rosemary-lemon simple syrup, and Hendrix Gin (along with some mint). To make the rosemary-lemon simple syrup, place 1 cup sugar, 1 cup water on high heat, bring to a boil, turn off heat and add rosemary (one bundle) and the zest of one lemon. Allow to steep, strain, and store in fridge. Good jazz, especially with Vodka and lemonade.

A Look Ahead to the Weekend

Are you going to be in New Orleans this weekend? Maybe for a wedding? Looking for something to do to pass the time? Want to get a jump on your Christmas shopping? Well, you could go to SOFAB on Saturday at 11 am to hear Susan Spicer of Bayona talk about her runaway best seller "Crescent City Cooking."

Spicer's tome chronicles not only her style of cooking, but New Orleans cuisine as well, and not just the French elements. Rather Spicer explores the varied and complex food traditions and influences that shape her cooking view and ultimately New Orleans cuisine. Following a presentation, Chef Spicer will sign copies of her book.

If you are a museum member, the cost is free. If not admission to the museum is $10 and the seminar is free.

Plus, you can take a look at the mess on the river.