Good Gracious

Soppresata and coppa (left) and rosemary-crusted roast beef (right) from Gracious Bakery + Cafe.

If someone asked me what is the most boring lunch imaginable, my answer would be the turkey sandwich. Whether it's a $5 foot long or a brown bag version from home, the turkey sandwich lunch makes a statement, usually something like: "I am consuming this food purely for caloric intake. Much like the man in the desert who drinks his own urine in order to stay alive, this turkey sandwich is simply the fuel necessary to keep me productive at my desk for the rest of the day. Taste is the least of my concerns, and the inexpensive cost is further proof of my priorities. I would have preferred ham, except that I am trying to watch my girlish figure."

But after picking up lunch at Gracious Bakery + Café a few days ago, my view on the turkey sandwich has begun to change. How so? Start construction with fresh ciabatta baked in house. Next, moist turkey breast cut oh so thin such that it straddles the line between shredded and sliced. Then add fontina (triple stacked), baby spinach leaves and a slather of housemade mostarda which brings a touch of fruity sweetness, a little heat, some acid and just overall deliciousness.

It's easy to get me excited about pork cheeks, oxtails, salted caramel, and grand cru burgundy. Knocking my socks off with a turkey sandwich? Now that is a Herculean task worth writing about.

Megan Forman - former pastry chef at Bayona and most recently the right hand to Tariq Hanna at Sucre - opened Gracious with her husband Jay (of New Orleans Magazine fame) in early September. Located in the ground floor of the new headquarters of Woodward Design + Build on South Jeff Davis, Gracious combines three of France's most endeared eateries in one location: boulangerié, patisserié, and café. So whether you are in search of simple croissant to start your morning, a light lunch around noon, or something to satisfy your sweet tooth, Gracious is a one stop shop for all three.

Before I discovered the turkey sandwich, I would have happily returned for Gracious' twist on the muffuletta, which features coppa, soppresata, and provolone with arugula on ciabatta smeared with green onion relish. (Hint: it's better than a muffuletta.) Pecan-cheddar spread will give better cheddar a run for its money, especially when it's matched with smoked ham, apple slices, and pepper jelly inside a crackly baguette. I had high hopes for the rosemary-crusted roast beef, but it was cooked a little too long for my liking, and the horseradish cream cheese could have been applied doubly so. Make sure to check the display case for the pretzel croissants - yeah, I had never seen one before either - filled with ham and sharp mustard.

All sandwiches are served with your choice of chips or mixed green salad tossed (which is key) in a simple balsamic vinaigrette or creamy herb dressing. I usually opt for the salad so that I don't feel guilty ordering dessert, which is a must. It's hard to pass up the peanut butter milk chocolate opera cake with its thin alternative layers of my two favorite sweet flavors, but the chocolate brownie brioche also beckons. To make matters more difficult, Gracious bakes its own king cakes filled with a core of chocolate and topped with a light white glaze.

So many delicious pastries to explore, so little time to do so before Lent. And only a quick drive down Earhart from the CBD.

Gracious Bakery + Café - Birdie
1000 South Jefferson Davis Parkway
(504) 301-3709
Mon – Fri: 6:30am – 3pm
Sat: 8am – 2pm

A Quick Drink: Champagne Cocktail

Welcome the newest soon to be abandoned Blackened Out Series: A Quick Drink. A Quick Drink will be a brief glance at a cocktail, bottle of wine, or pint of beer. No pretentious tasting notes, immersion circulator fueled infusions , or overly flowery descriptions of hops that sound like descriptions of potent marijuana. Just booze, served up neatly. 

The three biggest improvements in American dining in the last ten years have involved roast chicken, hamburgers, and cocktails. Cocktails, perhaps more than anything, have benefited from increased attention to sourcing and improved techniques from bartenders. A well-curated list of house made cocktails employing elderberry shrub and house made nocello is so standard it must be given out with a liquor license. All of that is well and fine but sometimes you need to pour drinks in a hurry and you aren't going to shrub your own elderberry. Scoff not wine nerds, cocktail connoisseurs are just following in your well-trodden foot steps. Beer geeks, you aren't far behind to the path to ubiquity and a touch of over saturation.

The Champagne Cocktail is a fantastic flourish and can be prepared with stuff you probably have around the house. I've taken a couple liberties with this drink. First, don't use Champagne. If you are buying real deal Champagne, don't use it in a cocktail unless you want to be painted as a ne'er-do-well or worse, a charlatan. A fifteen dollar Cava Brut, St. Hillaire, prosecco, or Californian sparkling will do.

Second, ditch the champagne flute. I know it is pretty and traditional, but you don't get enough juice to balance out the sweetness of the sugar cube. And while you can probably get five ounces in a champagne flute, it will more than likely spill out of the glass. Use a large wine glass instead. Thirdly, ditch the traditional lemon twist. Use a orange bitters in its place, which delivers the citrus punch without the fussiness and sadomasochism of twisting and bending a lemon peel.

Champagne Cocktail

1 sugar cube, I like the brown demerara  kind
2 dashes of Peychaud's Bitters
2 dashes of orange bitters
5 oz sparkling wine

Place sugar cube in bottom of wine glass, add bitters. Pour sparkling wine in glass. Serve immediately; the sugar will continue to dissolve as you sip the sunset hued elixir.

Blackened Out's Christmas Vacation: Lost in New York

Rockefeller Center.

What The Folk Singer wants, The Folk Singer gets (within reason). As such, with a simple request to visit New York to see all of the Christmas lights, we were off to the Big Apple on the weekend after Thanksgiving, smack dab in the middle of perhaps the busiest time of the year. What follows is a brief synopsis of our 56 hour trip.

We touched down at Laguardia just before noon on Friday afternoon, dropped our bags off in the East Village, and walked over to Ippudo for lunch. Ramen is the name of the game at this sleek "Japanese brasserie," a dish which has not yet gained traction in our fare city. The standard lunch set starts with a simple salad of field greens tossed in soy dressing and a mini bowl of rice topped with morsels of fried chicken. I had the weekly special ramen of Szechuan style spicy pork in an intense broth spiced up with black sesame sauce, ground pork, and shrimp paste. I think that TFS found the winner though with the classic ramen, a less adulterated version with broth that was a drinkable elixir.

Fortified against the cold, we made our way to Rockefeller Center to witness a marriage proposal on the skating rink (complete with Bon Jovi anthem) and snapped the above picture of the iconic Christmas tree, a replica of which TFS felt compelled to recreate in our living room. Yada yada yada, The New York Public Library, something about Carrie Bradshaw, and then it was time for happy hour.

We navigated the subway system toward the Ace Hotel, where we ducked into the John Dory Oyster Bar. The hostess sat us at two stools along the window looking out onto Broadway and West 29th. At 4:45 only a handful of other tables were occupied, By 5:15 there was not an open seat in the dining room and people were lined up three deep at the bar. The happy hour special is a half dozen oysters and a glass of cava or pint of stout for $15. I ordered a full dozen of the salty, plump downright beautiful bivalves from Mermaid Cove, and TFS downed the cava. It's why our marriage works. We made a pass through the hotel lobby and The Breslin (April Bloomfield's other restaurant in the Ace) and marveled at the number of hipsters playing on their Macs and investment bankers debating the size of their Christmas bonuses while imbibing $30 glasses of scotch. It was a great scene that's definitely worth experiencing.

Later that night on our stroll back to home base, we passed a crowd of at least 30 people gathered on the sidewalk outside Caracas Arepa Bar. We decided that it must be worth waiting for, so we put our name on the list and walked around the corner for a few beers and glasses of wine to help pass the 45 minute wait. We returned just in time to hear our name called and were shoehorned into the table immediately next to the front window in the dining room, which is more tightly quartered than a submarine. We each ordered an arepa - mine stuffed with thick disks of spicy chorizo and her's filled with roasted pork shoulder. What stood out the most was the sublime texture of the Venezuelan corn cakes - somewhere between a pupusa and a corn muffin. Excellent.

Following dinner we stumbled in to the Big Gay Ice Cream Shop for the most decadent ice cream cone I have ever tasted. Behold the Salty Pimp: vanilla soft serve stuffed and streaked on the sides with dulce de leche, dipped in chocolate, and sprinkled with sea salt. Unreal.

Shrimp and pork buns from Momofuku Noodle Bar.

We slept in on Saturday morning and felt even more guilty for squandering our time after the Parisian Princess sent a text message saying that she had just finished her 8 mile run through Central Park and would be available to meet us for lunch after a quick shower. We headed out on foot through the Village toward Washington Square to see if we could score a walk-in table at Babbo. Dining at Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich's flagship restaurant had become a mission for us ever since our attempts at a reservation were thwarted by Hurricane Sandy beating down on Manhattan exactly one month before our trip, which happened to be the precise time when Babbo opens its reservation book. By the time that they started answering the phones again after the storm, our only option was an 11:15 p.m. reservation. We decided to gamble on a lunch walk-in instead.

As we strolled down 5th Avenue, TFS reminisced about the Carnival du Vin Patron Party a few years back when she and Rene's better half caught Mario's eye and then spent a significant portion of the evening trying to force feed him red wine (which he defended against by proclaiming that that he only drinks white wine). As we chuckled at the stroll down memory lane, all of a sudden a familiar looking rotund gentlemen with a red pony tail exited an apartment building and crossed our path. Given the 38° temperature, it seemed odd that he chose shorts and crocs as the proper wardrobe for riding his vespa, which he promptly cranked up and then drove off on with his son clinging to his waist. Very strange.

A few minutes later we arrived at Babbo and were told that it would be no problem to seat our party of 3 for lunch. We waited for the Parisian Princess over pre-lunch cocktails and admired the handsome first floor dining room while a Coltrane track played in the background. Armed with the knowledge that neither TFS nor PP would be interested in a tasting menu, my order had already been pre-determined. To start a towering pile of arugula dressed with shaved parm and balsamic and served with a half dozen sweet morsels of roasted butternut squash. I ask myself, "How can something so simple be so good?" TFS had the same questions after she polished off her plate of thinly sliced prosciutto and fresh figs.

She followed with gnocchi al telefono, which I have to say was the best combination of pasta, tomato, and cheese that I had ever tasted. PP's grilled octopus transported me back to a tiny tapas bar in San Sebastian where I first learned to appreciate how tender this sea creature could be if cooked properly. As appealing as those few bites were, my attention remained tightly focused on the beef cheek ravioli, a dish which defies science when you consider how its possible to pack such a rich flavor inside a tiny pasta pouch.

Over the olive oil cake for dessert, we discussed the best plan of attack to score a dinner reservation for our return trip in the spring.

After lunch we decided that the best way to revive our hunger was a long walk to the Meatpacking District. We checked out the High Line, but Terroir was closed and no one could be seen having sex in front of the windows at the Standard, so it was kind of a bust. Then we headed over to Eataly to make sure that we maximized our quota of Mario for the trip. The scene can only be described as pandemonium. Picture the concourses at the Superdome during halftime, except that everyone is gorging themselves on pizza, pasta and wine instead of nachos, hot dogs, and beer. Things were a little more relaxed at Corkbuzz, where we met a few friends for a drink. Then pre-theatre fondue and half-priced bottles of Burgundy at the Bourgeois Pig.

According to TFS, an evening at the theatre is an absolute requirement for any visit to NYC. For this trip, she convinced me that spending 5x more on tickets to The Book of Mormon would be worth it. She was right. The show was hilarious. Unless, of course, any of you readers is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, in which case the show is extremely offensive and irreverent. Actually, those adjectives apply no matter what your religion or lack thereof.

I had pizza on the brain after the show, so we hailed a cab and headed to Motorino for an excellent Neopolitan pie topped with spicy soppresatta, chili flakes, and slivers of garlic. PP met up with us for the walk home, which happened to take us right in front of Momofuku Noodle Bar. This was obviously a sign sent down from above by Joseph Smith and/or Brigham Young, so how could we resist?

I'll be honest, both the ramen and the nugget potatoes were underwhelming, which was a surprise. But the steamed flour buns were out of this world good, and that goes for both the pork belly and the fried shrimp cake. It took every ounce of will power in my body to stop myself from attempting to pilfer a thigh from the fried chicken dinner delivered to the table next to us. Unfortunately, that dish must be ordered in advance. I may or may not have told TFS that I would pay for that table's entire meal if they gave me a southern style leg and a Korean style thigh, which prompted her to immediately ask for the check. Next time.

Sunday was a blur. A satisfactory brunch at Burger & Barrel. A trip to Bloomingdale's a/k/a the ninth circle of hell. More walking. Dinner at Hasaki because TFS wanted sushi and it was one of the few places that was open. A cab ride to the airport and a flight home.

I am tired just writing about it. But I am also now very hungry....

How 'Bout 'Dem Oysters

Photo by renee b. photography.

The morning chill over the past two days has announced the arrival of winter - at least until we wake up next week and find that the temperatures are back up into the 70s. While the drop in mercury may entice some locals to warm themselves up with a hot toddy, here at Blackened Out Pilates Studio & Pawn Shop, winter brings with it a craving for ice cold raw oysters, which are at their best this time of year.

In this month's issue of OffBeat Magazine, we profile the oyster bar at Pascal's Manale, an aspect of the restaurant which deserves as much (or perhaps more) attention than Manale's famous barbeque shrimp. While many patrons use the oyster bar at Manale's as a prelude to their dinner, we are of the opinion that two dozen raw and a couple of beers make for the perfect Manale's dining experience.

So take a pass on the bib and settle down to one of the best hidden oyster bars in the city. Cocktail sauce is optional.

Oyster Bar at Manale's - Birdie
1838 Napoleon
(504) 895-4877

Let the Resolutions Begin

Thai Chicken Wrap from City Greens.

It's a new year, and with that comes resolutions in all forms. I will be more efficient at the office.  I will exercise at least 5 days per week. No more afternoon outings to Cochon Butcher for chocolate chip cookies. I will omit pork fat from at least one meal per day. I will not complain when The Folk Singer monopolizes the living room TV to catch up on seven DVRed episodes of Glee and Gossip Girl.

It's been approximately 34 hours since my resolutions began, and I am still going strong. Sure, I was sleeping for 16 of those 34 hours, but give me some credit. Last year I only made it to 7:14pm on New Year's Day, when I violated the pork fat resolution after a breakfast of guanciale and eggs followed by bacon braised brussels sprouts for dinner.

Even though we all know in the back of our minds that new year's resolutions have a life span about as long as Lindsay Lohan's stints with sobriety, making a change for the better, no matter how short lived, is a step in the right direction. Thanks to City Greens, starting off the new year with a healthy lunch has never tasted so delicious. After a brief stint popping up on Sunday nights in the former location of Vizard's on Magazine Street, City Greens made the big move to the basement of 909 Poydras, where the salad specialist immediately earned a strong following with CBD office workers in search of a tasty lunch option which would not do much damage to their waistlines.

All of the raw ingredients are of impeccable quality, and the menu adjusts to the season. Don't be surprised to see mango omitted from the Thai Chicken Wrap when fresh supplies are tough to come by. Most of City Greens' greens - bibb, arugula, etc. - come from a hydroponic farm located just north of Seaside, Florida that is owned by City Greens' co-owner Ben Kazenmaier and his dad. Much of the other produce is sourced from Covey Rise Farms on the Northshore.

The menu lists 8 salads offered year round, a few seasonal salads, and 5 wraps. From the regular menu, my go to choices include the Thai Chicken Wrap (basil, cilantro, cucumbers, peanuts for crunch and sweet and silky peanut sauce) and the Greek salad - Boston bibb, cucumbers, Kalamata olives, roasted red peppers, shaved onion, and feta tossed in a yogurt ranch. The chicken pesto wrap has peppery arugula, chunks of grilled chicken breast, chopped tomato, whole cloves of roasted garlic whose potency outmatches their sweetness, and parm tossed in a rich walnut pesto dressing. I recommend foregoing the croutons, which provide a nice crunch but also unnecessary richness.

The specials of the day though have always been tough to beat. One day in October there was a wrap of juicy chunks of roasted turkey, diced sweet potato roasted till barely fork tender, shaved onion for sharpness and heat, with a backbone of sunflower sprouts and mixed greens all tossed in a lemon garlic dressing that brought everything together with the perfect hint of acid. Another more recent special was curry chicken w/ roasted red pepper, sweet onion, pickled Hawaiian hearts of palm, boondi (fried chickpea flour for added crunch), and bibb.

First timers may get overwhelmed with number of options available to create your own salad or wrap, so I suggest to stick to ordering off the menu at first. Besides, designing your own salad can quickly run up the bill when overloading on the number of ingredients. I'm glad that they started offering "medium" as a quantity of choice for your dressing, in addition to "light" and "heavy." Don’t forget to check the display case for discounted pre-made salads and wraps which are ready for grab and go.

I can almost guarantee that City Greens will be the only business more crowded today than your gym. But instead of your trainer yelling at you to finish those last few reps, City Greens offers a much more positive motivational trainer. That would be Big D, the best wrapper in the city. The man always has a great attitude and will be sure to wish you a happy new year and good luck in fulfilling your resolutions.

City Greens - Birdie
909 Poydras Street
(504) 533-0004
Mon-Fri Breakfast & Lunch

Restaurant August: Is It Worth It?

Restaurant August is the youngest member of the Classic set. Compared to most of the places examined this year, August is a wee lad. The reason it deserved scrutiny is because no other chef/brand in New Orleans history, save maybe Emeril Lagasse, has expanded faster and farther than John Besh. Prudhomme's spice line and a Commander's outpost or two have certainly taken New Orleans' brands to distant lands, but Besh after Katrina was seemingly anywhere a microphone or camera was. TV shows, eight new restaurants, cookbooks, and a foundation followed. All of this took place in a roasting pan of rapidly expanding food media, Twitpics, and Instagrams, making Besh one of the most recognizable New Orleans chefs.

August's location across the street from The Windsor Court gives it access to well-heeled visitors with expense accounts and sophisticated tastes. The cuisine at August has always reminded me, in a good way, of watching the Great Chefs of the World series on PBS. Elegant, multi-component dishes which appear incredibly simple, yet impossible to recreate at home. Take for instance the amuse bouche which sets in front of a diner a hallowed out egg shell brimming with fish fumet, a truffled sabayon, a dollop of caviar, and a baton of brioche sticking out like flag planted on a newly discovered island.

Each time this amuse is delivered by one of the sharp backwaiters, I sigh and utter to myself, "this again." But by the time I am done scooping out the luscious thick mixture of pungent truffle and fish made solid, I consider ordering a half dozen of these. That and a bottle of Champagne from the well-studied list would make one hell of an indulgent list.

But alas, duty calls. The daily lunch menu (hurry only thirteen more days that it will be available for $20.12) offers a selection of three dishes each in one of three courses. I went the economical route; Lindsay decided she wanted to order off the regular menu, which can get pricey. My first course was a simple salad of pear, mizuna, blue cheese, and walnuts. The pears had been sliced thin and cooked, the heat coaxing out a rich sweetness which was a natural pairing for the sharp bite of blue cheese.

The second most famous dish in the Besh cannon is a bowl of gently ridged gnocchi united with crabmeat, truffle, and parmesan. The real value in this dish is the free drag of bread through the deeply flavored sauce. Again, you could make a whole meal out of a double order of this, but this time go with a white burgundy.

Porchetta, that rustic Italian roadside staple, receives a shower, shave, and Saville Row clothing allowance. The kitchen at august crusts the well-seasoned meat in panko and places it on a saddle of sturdy grits framed with tender sprouts and halved cherry tomatoes. Shrimp and grits removes the grits in favor of risotto and surrounds the dish with a rich shellfish stock, thin, floppy disks of gourd, and a pleasant spice.

I wish more attention was devoted to the wine by the glass program, but fine dining's number one rule is to make money on the extremities. A glass of rose which should have been bright and lively was dusty and flat, but one probably shouldn't be drinking at lunch. Desserts under the studied stewardship of Kelly Fields have veered into territory approaching avant garde in New Orleans. Witness a study in devil's food cake, which cast the flavors of chocolate into a galaxy of cherry asteroids, pistachio space debris, and coconut moons orbiting dense planets of decadent brownies and a sun of cocoa pudding.

I am not sure how much time Besh spends in his kitchen at August. But whether it is one hundred hours a week or one hundred minutes a year, his brigade is well-tuned and focused. The faux Besh signature on each page of the menu (and website) needs to be retired; its like wearing a high school letter jacket as a freshmen in college. The front of the house service is polished, professional, and well-timed. I can't help but think that a maitre d' would tie the room together like Lebowski's rug. But we are here to talk about the food, and the food at this newish classic is fantastic and faultless. At twenty bucks for lunch, it is the best deal in town.

Restaurant August: Is It Worth It? Absolutely.
301 Tchoupitoulas
299-9977

Programing Note

At the Fourth Annual Blackened Out Media, L.L.C. Retreat and Trust Fall Exercise Summit, Peter and I discussed the future of Ye Ole Blog. In February, this area of the world wide web will turn five, which means we need to figure out soon whether it is going to a public school or private school. Furthermore, the blog just started playing soccer and we finally got the damn thing potty trained.

Quite simply, we needed to figure out how to go forward surrounded by heightened responsibilities. A best practices if you will for a business that has never turned a profit. But one thing we think we have gained is your trust. We don't take ads and we don't have an agenda. We simply enjoy sharing our dining experiences with strangers on the internet. And that trust (if we have it, which is a big if) is perhaps the most important aspect of our interaction.

As you may know, as Hogs for the Cause has grown, my involvement with local chefs and restaurants has increased. Geographically, I live four doors down and around the corner from the chefs of two of my favorite restaurants. Through one event or introduction or another, I have gotten too chummy with the people we critique. While being unbiased and honest has never been a problem here, Peter and I are concerned about how the appearance of impropriety could erode the trust our readers have in our reviews. In light of these issues, we have reached a decision that once I finish out the 2012 Challenge (which will bleed into 2013), I will cease reviewing restaurants for Blackened Out.

Peter will take full over full responsibility for reviewing restaurants which has sort of been the heading regardless. Our goal is to release more "professional" reviews based on a minimum of two visits, rather than reactionary restaurant writing. Reviews will be published once a week on Thursday. Occasionally, one lengthy review may be replaced by a collection of Short Order Reviews. Peter will not take on a challenge in 2013 and instead narrow his energies solely on restaurant reviewing. Finally, we will continue to use our golf style ranking system.

In the past few years, my focus has shifted towards writing about restaurants and chefs, wine and spirits, and home cooking. These types of articles will continue two or three times a week. I have grand plans of reviving the interview series from two summers past, as well as other restaurant focused writing which isn't based around a review. We'll see what happens and we hope you will continue reading.

Thanks,
Management

Changes at Le Meritage

When Brett Anderson awarded four beans to Le Meritage in his October 2009 review, Chef Michael Farrell probably thought that his fine dining establishment in the Maison Dupuy would be one of the few hotel restaurants that bucked the downward trend. The immediate response from local diners was correspondingly positive; it seems that I could not go a week without someone relating a glowing review about a recent dinner there. But as time passed, every time that I heard someone mention Le Meritage it was usually in this context: "Yeah, Le Meritage is a good idea, unless we can find a table somewhere better in the Quarter." Fast forward a little more than three years, and Chef Farrell is now due to depart from the restaurant for an extended "sabbatical" in the Cayman Islands.

Clockwise from top left: lamb t-bone with sweet potato; duck two ways and sweetbread salad frisee; fall beet risotto; braised beef short rib with gremolata.

I have dined at Le Meritage exactly twice since Chef Farrell took over in the kitchen. The first was in October 2011 when the restaurant opened for a FQ business meeting and subsequently set a new bar for the quality of food at a work luncheon. We started with a napoleon of beet red cubes of tuna tartare topped with  a layer of crunchy and sweet corn hiding beneath a silky smooth (maybe too smooth) guacamole. The entrée was a juicy and crispy-skinned airline chicken (boneless breast with drumette still attached) served alongside lemon laced quinoa and braised bitter greens which retained a nice texture. A deliciously rich, smooth, and barely sweetened dark chocolate pot de creme finished the meal.

Of course, my first full dining experience at Le Meritage was just a month before the chef announced his departure. The restaurant was surprisingly empty for theatre week at Mahalia Jackson a few blocks away. For the first hour of our meal, the only other person in the dining room was the John Mayer doppelganger working his solo set and serenading us with Ray LaMontagne’s "Trouble," which I forced The Folk Singer to dance to at our reception. It was a magical night -  the wedding, that is.

Dinner at Le Meritage was a good time as well. In terms of ambience, the restaurant has touches of both universal and French Quarter elegance. Diners sit in wide club chairs at unadorned, dark wood tables while gazing out windows on opposite sides of the dining room looking out upon Burgundy and the courtyard of the hotel. A twisting path of track lighting winds around the dimly lit dining room.

The menu is organized by wine pairing, with wine flights matched with a group of courses based on the flavor profiles of both. In addition, all wines are available by the half and full pour, and each dish is offered in both appetizer and entrée portions. I started with miniature medallions of sautéed sweetbreads on a pile of frisée salad dressed with ponzu, a curious twist on the classic citrus sauce usually served with the glands, which in this case were a bit more chewy than desired. Duck two ways brought thin slices of duck breast and nubs of seared foie gras matched with a fig compote; the classic combination of duck and sweet sauce, which I sometimes feel is about as dated as the Hans and Franz radio spots from French Riviera Spa. A lamb t-bone was grilled to a fatty, succulent rosy red and paired with a terribly boring wedge of roasted sweet potato. For dessert, an individual key lime goat cheese cake tasted stale and from the box, and a dome of chocolate hazelnut mousse topped a dense (if a bit dry) brownie/cookie base. The best part of the meal was the fantastic $82 premier cru burgundy which I was afraid had a "1" missing from the price on the menu, until I received the bill and thankfully breathed a sign of relief.

As we waited for the valet to bring around the car, I began mentally writing up a review in my head:

"Generic fine dining setting in the Quarter. Obvious emphasis on wine. Everything on the menu you have seen before, with a few twists here and there. A few missteps, and no dish really grabbed your attention. All in all, I would definitely go back again ... if I couldn't find a better table somewhere else."

Le Meritage
1001 Toulouse
(504) 522-8800
Tues-Sat 6-10pm

Huevos Brunch

Huevos Benedict.

A long, long time ago, before there was Crescent Pie & Sausage and Pizzicare, Bart Bell and Jeff Baron's first joint venture was Huevos. The breakfast specialist actually served as a Plan B strategy for the duo after Hurricane Gustav caused the collapse of the TV/VCR repair shop that they were renovating for Crescent Pie & Sausage. Featuring a creative menu that benefited from a judicious use of Bart Bell's charcuterie, Huevos was a hit from opening day, and rightfully so. But after a long renovation, Crescent Pie & Sausage eventually opened its doors and garnered the full attention of the two chefs. Then came Pizzicare and more responsibility. Eventually, it was decided that Huevos would close its doors and make way for a retail market.

But like Lazarus, Huevos has risen from the dead, popping up every Sunday for brunch inside Crescent Pie & Sausage. The menu remains much the same, except for one important addition: booze, a necessity at any proper New Orleans brunch. Try the house bloody mary - a concoction of Cathead Vodka, Zing Zang, and  a splash of Lazy Magnolia's Jefferson Stout.

On some days your meal may start with an amuse bouche of bite-sized beignets covered in powdered sugar. For those with a bigger sweet tooth, check out the angel food cake french toast or the chocolate and caramel covered turtle pancakes, an often recurring special. An incarnation of the Blue Jay Special, a/k/a the "Huevorito" is still on offer, but the best chorizo-filled dish on the menu is the Huevos Benedict. Triangular folded crepes filled with pimento cheese form the perfect landing pad for spicy pork sausage patties which are topped with poached eggs and then finished with a drizzle of red pepper sauce, a sprinkle of jalapeno-spiked pico de gallo, and a scoop of guacamole on the side. It's a hell of a way to start your Sunday, save for the fact that the entire plate is a bit small in terms of portion size for a hungry eater, so don't forget to add a side of black beans or potatoes.

Although the kitchen can run into trouble with consistency (over-poached eggs and a failure to season all components of a dish), the return of Huevos is a much appreciated addition to the Mid-City brunch scene. And with a 3:15 kickoff for the Saints-Giants game, Huevos fits right into this week's Sunday schedule.

Huevos - Par/Birdie
4400 Banks Street
(504) 482-2426
Sunday Only: 9am - 2pm

Bo Kho

For a few days last week, the weather was chilly enough to warrant making a big batch of beef stew. While there is nothing wrong with the traditional Irish beef stew or Beef Burgundy, something had me in an Asian mood. This is a basic braise, but with the subtraction of a few traditional ingredients and the addition of a couple Southeast Asian flavors. After the initial braise, strain the sauce and remove the meat. Then cover the meat with the sauce and cool overnight. The next day add in the blanched carrots and turnips and reheat.

This is the perfect dish to make halfway on a Sunday and then finish off on Monday night. Serve it with warm French bread to soak up the pungent, rich sauce.

My Bo Kho

1 pound beef stew meat
3 carrots, peeled and diced
2 stalks of celery
1 stalk of lemongrass, diced
3 cloves of garlic
1 turnip, peeled and diced
1 leek, diced
1 tablespoon of minced ginger
1 tablespoon of red curry paste
Vermouth
4 cups chicken stock
Vegetable oil
Fish sauce
Juice of one lime
Bouquet garni - bay, coriander, allspice, and clove. I put them in one of those metal mesh loose tea holders - easier than tying or trying to fish out.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Pat dry your beef. Season with salt and pepper. In a Dutch oven, heat three tablespoons of vegetable oil until just smoking. Sear the meat in batches. Add in handful of the carrots (reserve the rest for the next day), the leeks, celery, lemongrass, ginger, and garlic. Stir to combine and let sweat for about five minutes or until soft. Add in curry paste and cook for another three minutes. Then deglaze with a quarter cup of vermouth. Once the vermouth has evaporated, add in the stock, lime juice, the seared meat, a good few dashes of fish sauce, and the bouquet garni. Bring to a boil. Cover and pop in the oven for 2 hours.

Remove the meat and place in a bowl. Strain the sauce into the bowl, cool, and refrigerate for at least six hours but preferably overnight. When ready to serve, blanch the reserved carrots and turnips in salted, boiling water until al dente. In a separate sauce pan, rewarm the braised meat and its sauce, and add in the carrots and turnips.

Serve in warm bowls with plenty of French bread and a crisp beer.

Galatoire's: Is It Worth It?

Editor's Note: This one gets a little weird. I struggled with whether or not to recommend it, but not because of the food (which recent visit showed marked improvement). Rather because the experience far exceeds the food. Which is why there is a dissertation in place of a standard review. Refunds gladly given. Buckle Up. 

Few things are misunderstood in the American dining landscape more than "tapas." Just the name is confusing enough to allow restaurateurs to fool an unsuspecting public. Tapas has come to mean smaller portions served at three-quarters the price of a normal plate. It's a great con if you can get in on it. Next time you split a hamburger or only serve your friends three small shrimp, call it tapas and people will swoon towards you like Hemingway to booze.

I am no authority on tapas, but my idea of tapas is that of a free form experience built mainly around drinking and socializing, and lastly eating. The food component is mostly small snacks delivered here and there, quick bites of something salty or sweet, or savory or bitter. Eaten alone, with strangers, or in the company of friends, tapas describes a style of dining more than the dishes served. Tapas are ordered at a set pace - yours. You choose when to switch from sherry to beer or anchovies to foie gras. There may be a menu, but more than likely you pay it no attention. The bartender or waiter guides you as you order. After a few bites, you move on to a different topic of conversation, drink, or food.

By my definition, Galatoire's, that French-Creole bastion, may provide one of the best examples of a tapas dining experience in America. Now, once you are done guffawing, consider this. First, the line between Spanish and French influence in New Orleans is blurrier than your vision after three Hurricanes. The French Quarter is really Spanish. The Civil Code is either French or Spanish, no one really knows for sure. The Saints were originally called Los Santos, and on and on.

Secondly, Jean Galatoire, the founder of Bourbon Street's classiest address, arrived in America by way of Pardies, French. Pardies, a  French town just outside of Pau, is as the crow flies about 156 kilometers from San Sebastian. San Sebastian is likely one of the birthplaces or at least an ardent follower of tapas. The area of Southwest France and Northeast Spain has an independent streak wider that a country mile. Neither area really believes itself to be Spanish or French, but its own unique culture. Sound familiar, New Orleans?

Galatoire's is not the high-end Louis XIV to Careme to Escoffier fancy French dining of reservations made months in advance. Galatoire's is not the place you go to sit in a hushed room while golden trimmed waiters deliver silver domed dishes while reciting French poetry. This is a place with more in common to a cafe or bar, where a cast of characters filters throughout the day to make noisy conversation over a Pernod, a newspaper, and a few bites of something simple.

Now this is not to say the food at Galatoire's is by any means Spanish. Pommes souffle, bernaise, marchand de vin are as French as striking government workers. The trout, pompano, crabmeat, oysters Rockefeller, lamb chops, and thick steaks are the food of a culture blessed with abundance. The menu - there is one - has shortened its official offerings, but a waiter will still deliver to your table just about anything he thinks you should have.

Rather, it is the style of dining at Galatoire's that is uniquely Spanish. This is a meal best undertaken surrounded by the company of four to six friends. Preferably, ones you don't see often enough. Skip the first rush towards lunch. It requires you to get out there entirely too early. Instead head for the second wave around 1:30 or 2:00 pm.

Your first round or two of drinks should be cocktails, something refreshing. A martini, Pimm's cup, or Bloody Mary will do. After two drinks, your table should be ready. The garlic bread, which now arrives along with the regular foot long of Leidenheimer, is a significant and worthwhile upgrade. Crusted with butter and the tinge of garlic, they are perfect with a glass of Champagne, should you be in the mood to celebrate.

Souffle potatoes are hit or miss. At times they arrive plump and airy, greaseless and the color of ancient papyrus. But there is likely one, two, or more on the plate which are soggy, dark brown, and deflated. Same goes for the fried eggplant. Finish the Champagne with the Galatoire's Goute, the classiest seafood platter in town.  A delicious mound of piquant shrimp remoulade shares top billing with a scoop of pearly crabmeat maison and oysters en brochette. That final offering suffers the same fate as the other fried items. It will either be fantastic or disappointing. All of the food up till now has been served to the table, which encourages sharing, passing and more conversation which leads to more drinks.

After a few more rounds of drinks and idle chatter, move on to Oysters Rockefeller and turtle soup. Time wise, you should be about two hours in to your meal or maybe thirty minutes. Time passes both slowly and fast in Galatoire's. Fish with crabmeat has been a perennial strong point at Galatoire's. Egg dishes and steaks are the sleepers. Steaks are particularly well-done, crusty on the exterior, soft on the inside, draped in your sauce of choice. For me, that often means a few bottles of deep, dark Napa cab. On a recent visit, the Pope upstaged us all with a filet topped with foie gras.

Skip dessert, which has always been a weak point. If you really want a dessert, beg for a hot fudge sundae or ask politely for a Grand Marnier, neat. Contrary to popular belief, Galatoire's is not some restaurant designed only for the elite, rather it is a simple neighborhood cafe serving drinks, bites of food, and a place to socialize. All be it in coat after five and all day Sunday.

Galatoire's is tapas. In the same way it took a Russian composer (Prokofiev) to translate the story of an Englishman (Shakespeare) about Italian lovers (Romeo and Juliet) into music, so it took a Frenchmen in New Orleans to fully execute the genius of Spanish tapas in America. And he accomplished this 112 years ago.

Galatoire's: Is It Worth It? Yes, but not if you are looking for a traditional 3 course meal in an hour.
209 Bourbon St.
(504) 525-2021

Keife & Co.

99 bottles of booze on the wall at Keife & Co. Photo by renee b. photography.

Though the weather outside is far from frightful, Christmas is just around the corner.  And we all know that the most important part of Chri$tma$ is, of course, presents - receiving more so than giving.  Having spent this past weekend in NYC (more on that trip soon), I can attest to the fact that the holiday shopping season is in full swing.  I once thought that my 13 years of Catholic schooling taught me all that I need to know about hell, and then I stepped foot inside Bloomingdale's on 59th and Lexington during December.

Instead of stuffing stockings this year with iTunes gift cards and lip gloss, why not fill them with bottles of single malt scotch and maybe a wedge of aged gorgonzola?  In this month's issue of OffBeat Magazine, we profile Keife & Co., downtown's newest purveyor of fine wines and spirits. Keife & Co. offers the most enjoyable shopping experience of the season, and owners John Keife and Jim Yonkus are happy to assist you in finding the perfect libation for the holiday season, whether it be a fine single barrel bourbon for your boss or a few bottles of burgundy for the neighborhood gathering.

The holidays are about spending time with family and friends. In such a case, booze is a necessity not a luxury. It's time to stock up.

Keife & Co.
801 Howard Ave.
(504) 523-7272
Tues-Sat 10am-8pm