By Tom Fitzmorris
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
1068 Restaurants Open Around Town
The Saints Literally Come Marching In. Hershey. Lox And Bagels. Carmen Miranda. Ladies Invited. Fire Extinguisher. Rusk. Ade. Franks.
One Week Until Mardi Gras
Whatever else can be said about Mardi Gras, its effect on New Orleans dining--especially in the areas where parades pass and in the French Quarter--is greatly to increase its inconvenience. That will be especially true tonight, as a special parade is mounted to welcome back the New Orleans Saints from their huge victory in the Super Bowl. On the other hand, a number of restaurants are making it an all-day affairs, with special menus (especially in their bars) and other attractions. The Warehouse District and the French Quarter will be partying especially hard. But isn't that what this holiday is all about?
Annals Of Chocolate
Today in 1894 the Hershey Chocolate Company was founded. Milton Hershey, who had been in the candy business for some time, started the company after a few less successful ventures. Chocolate makers in Europe are puzzled by the American taste for Hershey's chocolate, which they find has a slight tang from sour milk. But we certainly love it. The history of Hershey (and his fierce competitor Forrest Mars) is the subject of the excellent book Emperors of Chocolate, by Joel Glenn Brenner.
Food Calendar
Today is National Lox and Bagels Day, says the Internet rumor. Although it's as Jewish a snack or breakfast as can be imagined, the combination of silky smoked salmon with cream cheese on a well-made bagel is so appealing that it's easy to get hooked on it. Indeed, during the past week, it's happened to me. A breakfast of lox and bagels is quite a filling repast. I can no longer eat a even a whole bagel for breakfast and then have lunch--let alone one with salmon and cream cheese. But that doesn't make it less of a pleasure.
Edible Dictionary
lox, n.--Cured salmon, usually sliced and served cool, most commonly with toasted bagels and cream cheese. The standard lox--also known as "belly lox"--is not smoked. Although many deli customers say that only this is true lox, the smoked kind has become much more popular. The most common is called Nova lox, for Nova Scotia, which once dominated the smoked salmon supply in Northeast America. The word comes from the old German word for salmon, and is found with different spellings across Northern Europe. Nova lox usually is less salty than belly lox, from being cured a shorter time in a milder brine solution.
Delicious-Sounding Places
Salmon, Texas is in the eastern part of the Lone Star State, on US 287 almost exactly midway between Houston and Dallas. It's just a place name on the railroad that runs through rolling farm country with a history of growing cotton. One thing we know for sure is that no salmon will be found there, save perhaps in cans. The nearest restaurant of interest is Los Vaqueros cafe, four miles away in Elkhart.
Deft Dining Rule #691: Hot lox--as in cut up and cooked into scrambled eggs, or with pasta--sounds better than it actually is. Heating salty foods makes them seem even saltier, and perhaps unpleasantly so.
Food In The Movies
It's the birthday of Brazilian movie musical star Carmen Miranda, who is almost always depicted as wearing a hat made of bananas, mangoes, and and other fresh tropical fruit. She was a hat designer before she became a star, and she made hats--always tall and showy--out of non-food items, too.
The Old Kitchen Sage Sez: If you wear clothing decorated with food designs, you will never splash sauce on it. (You may, however, stain it with wine or coffee (unless the article has a wine or coffee design, respectively)). This does not apply to aprons, unfortunately. [I think the Old Kitchen Sage may still be hung over from the after-Super Bowl party.--Tom.]
Feminism In The Dining Room
Today in 1987, the Exchange Luncheon Club--the eatery for traders at the New York Stock Exchange--added a ladies' rest room to its facilities. The funny thing is that the NYSE began allowing women on the floor about twenty years earlier. In the interim, it's was sort of like it was in the old days at Galatoire's: the women had to climb a flight of stairs if they went to the loo.
Chronicles Of Food Safety
The first fire extinguisher was patented today in 1863. Called the fire grenade, and it was very simple: you threw a bottle made of very thin glass and filled with salt water, into the fire, and out it went. You hoped. It made kitchens safer for frying soufflee potatoes. When's the last time you checked the fire extinguisher in your kitchen? At the risk of sounding like the Reader's Digest, you ought to check it once a month, the fire guys say.
Food Namesakes
Dean Rusk, Secretary of State in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations, was born today in 1909. (A rusk is that hard, dry piece of bread you find under eggs Benedict, among other places). . . Former Congressman Gary Franks was born today in 1953. . . Actor Joe Pesci was born today in 1943. ("Pesci" means "fish" in Italian.) . . . Chicago journalist, playwright, and humorist George Ade was born today in 1866. . .
Words To Eat By
"Protect your bagels, put lox on them."--Sign at a bagel shop in New Haven, CT.
"A bagel creation that would have my parents turning over in their graves is the oat-bran bagel with blueberries and strawberries. It's a bagel nightmare, an ill-conceived bagel form if there ever was one."--Ed Levine, New York food writer and bagel commentator.
Many Restaurants Closed Sunday; Many Inaccessible
Valentine's Day Dining
Will Not Be Easy This Year
Valentine's Day is considered by many lovers to be essential to their relationship. This may cause a good deal of stress this year. Only Mardi Gras itself (and the Super Bowl) makes so many restaurants shut down. so difficult is it to get around the main restaurant areas.
That's one of many issues covered in our Special Report on Valentine's Dining. In it, however, is a list of fifteen romantic, delicious restaurants that will be open, and won't be on the parade route.
The full report is here. I'm updating it as I learn more about who will be open and what they're doing.
Pizza. Pasta. Italian.
Westwego: 1112 Avenue H. 504-341-9650. Map.
Lunch and dinner continuously Monday-Saturday.
Casual.
MC V
Website
WHY IT'S NOTEWORTHY
Mo's makes a modified New York-style pizza with a great crust, thin and crisp at the bottom, with a nice breadiness at the perimeter, and a few really dark brown spots to make everything exciting. Also here are all the cousins of pizza: calzones, sausage rolls, and the like. The basic pasta dishes. And poor boys and muffulettas. The portions are laughably large; the prices ridiculously low.
WHY IT'S GOOD
The crust is excellent here, and is only seconds out of the oven when you pick it up and bite in. The toppings are of good quality and layered on generously. My only quibble is with the sauce, which strikes me as overly sweet. (This is also true of the sauce that comes with the pasta.)
BACKSTORY
Mo's opened in the late 1980s, functioning for some years as strictly a neighborhood pizzeria. Then the word broke out among Tulane students and other displaced New Yorkers that this place at least approximated Northeast-style pizza, and the fame of the place spread from there. A fire in 2002 forced the construction of a much larger and less shabby dining room, and a kitchen better able to get the pizzas out without the interminable waits of the early years. The restaurant is a little hard to find the first time; it's off the main highway.
DINING ROOM
A large, stark building that looks more like an industrial warehouse than a restaurant on the outside contains a pleasant but utilitarian dining area, usually filled with the regulars. But for the prices nobody ever complains about a lack of atmosphere.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
Fried chicken wings.
Italian salad.
Pizzas.
Pizza turnovers.
Sausage rolls.
Meatball or sausage poor boy sandwich.
Roast beef poor boy (Friday special).
Hot sausage poor boy (Wednesday special).
Muffuletta.
Lasagna (24 ounces!)
Spaghetti with meatballs or sausage.
Veal parmesan.
Bread pudding.
FOR BEST RESULTS
The more people you show up with, the better the place is. Fill the table with not just different pizzas but those sausage rolls, calzones, and lasagna.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
The sauce is the weak point as far as I'm concerned, but it suits a lot of New Orleans eaters.
FACTORS OTHER THAN FOOD
Up to three points, positive or negative, for these characteristics. Absence of points denotes average performance in the matter.
- Dining Environment -1
- Consistency +1
- Service
- Value +3
- Attitude +1
- Wine and Bar
- Hipness -1
- Local Color +1
SPECIAL ATTRIBUTES
- Open Monday lunch and dinner
- Open all afternoon
- Unusually large servings
- Quick, good meal
- Good for children
- Easy, nearby parking
- No reservations
Tuesday, January 12. Atchafalaya. The Siberian deep-freeze that of the past week finally passed us, leaving us with one final morning in the teens. I look forward to more moderate days, and not having to think about water pipes.
The owner of Le Citron Bistro wrote me a couple of weeks ago to say that he's upgraded his menu, is buying better ingredients, and thinks the place is ready for another look and maybe a review. Leaving the radio station, that was on my mind for dinner. But it's closed on Tuesday. I continued uptown on Tchoupitoulas Street, thinking through the possibilities. At Louisiana Avenue, a good one came to mind: Café Atchafalaya. It has new owners since the last time I was there, and the reports I've heard from readers and listeners gave the place a halo of promise.
The first signs were good. The place was full. I pulled up to the bar, hoping that the cold drafts through the single door would be balanced by the warmth of a cocktail. I asked the bartender if he had anything novel for me to try.
"What do you like?" he asked. I'm a gin kind of guy, I said. "Great! My favorite spirit to work with! I have a drink that uses some Chartreuse and a rare Italian fortified wine with some interesting botanicals. And lime." I watched him assemble the concoction with unusual care, particularly when he got down to the lime peel. He uncurled it from the fruit in a way that gave it the shape of a green Slinky, then stretched it across a martini glass. It was as intriguing in its flavor as it was in its appearance. And the bartender seemed to have as much fun assembling his creation as I did drinking it.
While this went on, one of the owners recognized me and came over. Tony Tocco said that he remembered waiting on me a long time (over twenty years) ago at Gautreau's. And the Upperline, and the extinct Prytania Bar & Grill. That didn't surprise me; good waiters never forget anything. (Beware of what you say in their presence.) He owns a couple of bars now, and got into this restaurant when the previous owner let it go about a year ago.
"We dropped the 'Café' from the name," he said. "It's just 'Atchafalaya' now. That let me raise the prices a little." His card noted that the place is New Orleans's only five-A restaurant. I could come up with no challenge to that claim.
At the table, Tony and his business partner Rachael Jaffe descended with the waiter to ease me in the right directions. I don't mind that; indeed, I ask for such urges. They all agreed that their shrimp and grits was so supreme that the dish should be renamed for the restaurant. Tony said that he has been eating the chicken entree three to five times a week, so much does he like it. They touted the filet mignon as being the "foie gras of filets." Strong claims. I asked whether I could have an appetizer of the shrimp and grits. The soup of the day as the second course, and finally the chicken. It all sounded very good.
And it was. The shrimp and grits had a spicy, ruddy sauce over big, heads-on shrimp atop creamy, firm grits. It was a decidedly Creole flavor. We may not be far away from the day when New Orleans surpasses the Low Country of South Carolina in cooking this dish, even though they invented it. The soup was perfect for a cold night, made with butternut squash, tomatoes, and some other vegetables. Hearty, hot, and rustic. They also sent out a cup of the chicken-andouille gumbo, which took the current vogue for extremely thick gumbo to a new plateau. The taste was good, but I don't go along with this trend.
The chicken was indeed worth eating more than once a week. It was what's called in the biz an "airline breast," meaning half the breast with the first, meatiest section of the wing. They said it was pan roasted, but it more resembled a job from the oven. A nearly-perfect crust of skin and coarse pepper covered an ideally moist interior. The sauce was good, too: exotic mushrooms in a cream sauce with a little Cognac. I love a well-made chicken dish. They have become rare. This was just the sort of thing I'm thinking of when I order it. Even the mashed potatoes were up to snuff, pleasantly lumpy, just creamy enough.
Everything about Atchafalaya represents an advance beyond what the three previous Café Atchafalayas accomplished. (Yes, even better than in Iler Pope's hegemony, which was good but much less ambitious than this.) Tocco and Jaffe have taken advantage of the place's antiquity (it's been a restaurant since at least the 1920s) to make a cool dining room. It's the nicest restaurant surprise I've had lately.
Atchafalaya. Uptown: 901 Louisiana Ave. 504-891-9626. Contemporary Creole.
Wednesday, January 13. First Look At Il Giardino Trattoria. I stayed home to catch up on my writing. I am getting behinder and behinder. When the radio show ended, I was good and hungry, having had nothing but two slices of toast all day. I prevailed on the Marys to join me for dinner at Il Giardino Trattoria in Mandeville. People have been talking about it--favorably, without exception. But it's in a star-crossed location, one that has hosted as many restaurants as the number of years since its strip mall was built.
One of those departed brethren helped me persuade Mary Leigh to try this new place. For a year or two this was the Star Café. II found it pretty ordinary, but Mary Leigh was crazy about Star's hamburgers and their fresh-cut, fresh-fried potato chips topped with blue cheese. Its closing upset her more than any other restaurant loss. When the place reopened with the same name, her heart leapt. But the new menu was Cuban. And the one after it was something else she didn't like.
But now--well, Italian food is an easy sell. We were impressed from the moment we entered. The new owners turned the unambiguously strip-mall space into a sophisticated, comfortable dining room, covering the wall of windows with heavy curtains, upholstering a row of banquettes richly, and surrounding the tables with Italian leather chairs.
The menu is primarily Northern Italian--the kind we never saw in New Orleans until Andrea's and its ilk began appearing twenty-five years ago. Il Giardino serves a few things I'd never heard of, in fact. One of these had a name so intriguing I had to try it: "provoletta mafiosa." This was a slab of provolone cheese grilled to a light brown crust, then surrounded with a sloshy sauce whose flavor was somewhere between that of a broth and a vinaigrette. I liked it, but it made me regret that I didn't change the rest of my order, which I allowed to become overwhelmed with cheese.
Mary Ann commenced her repast with minestrone, nicely presented in a miniature black iron kettle, with fresh basil floating on top. This was perfect cold-weather eating and as good as it looked. She continued along this healthy road with a fillet of salmon, flooded with a creamy tomato sauce underneath and some grilled shrimp above. She was less enthusiastic about the flavor of this, but thrilled by how it figured into her new eating regimen.
I chose cannelloni, and I didn't read the menu well enough, or else I would have noticed that it was a spinach cannelloni, covered and stuffed with quite a bit of cheese. And I would have ordered something else. I had a choice between red sauce and Alfredo sauce; I requested both, and what came out was more beautiful than good. It was way, way too rich for an entree. Especially after an appetizer that was ninety-five percent cheese.
The critical diner, however, was Mary Leigh. I could have given her order without checking with her: pasta pomodoro. Red sauce. She said she thought it was very good, although not quite as good as Bosco's, which sets her standard for this very basic and much-loved dish.
I insisted on being allowed to have a cannoli for dessert. It was hand-made and reasonably good. Not the equal of Angelo Brocato's, but that's a high bar. Cannoli come in an order of two, but I asked to be sent only one, lest I eat both.
Everything about Il Giardino--including the service, carried out by guys with distinctly Italian style--was better than I expected. And large parts of the menu remain to be explored. So I have another place to take the Marys when we are home together.
Il Giardino Trattoria. Mandeville: 2186 Florida St 985-624-3969. Italian.
Thursday, January 14. A Painful Case. It's the standard stance of restaurant critics to tell all, say what needs to be said, without regard as to whether doing so does more harm than good. Perhaps because I've been at this so long, I am uncomfortable with that idea. (Although I'm sure some restaurateurs may be surprised to hear it.) I don't write many outright negative reviews, and almost never do so if the restaurant is little-known.
Tonight I went to an establishment which, if I named it, would be hard for me to write frankly about. The restaurant is so terrible that in my four dinners there, it's never come close to providing even the minimum performance one expects from a restaurant. In my old 100-point rating system, in which I gave a restaurant fifty points just for being open, this one would get a fifty--no more. It can only be reviewed by anecdote.
I have kept going back because certain qualities of the place seemed to indicate genuine, honest effort on the part of the owner. He has spent a good deal of money on a very interesting building in a neighborhood with good possibilities in the future. He's friendly and hospitable. But he has a big problem. He has no idea what people want from a restaurant. From the way his establishment operates, I wonder whether he even likes going out to dine.
The result of that incompetence is that all of my visits could only be reported in anecdotes. One of them was so zany that it reminded me of an episode of Frasier. Frasier and Niles try to open a fancy French restaurant, but their fantastic lack of skill causes service to degenerate into slapstick.
I had high hopes for this restaurant tonight, because of rumors I heard of a new chef and a new menu. I should have turned around and bolted as soon as I walked in. Like the previous times, the restaurant was all but empty. (In fact, tonight I was the only customer.)
The server recognized me. She had waited on me about twenty-five years ago, at the old Bouligny restaurant. I'm sure she alerted the kitchen. But what could they do if they didn't know what to do? I ordered the soup of the day: potato and leek. When I asked the waitress about it, she said that it was good yesterday. But today? It was a cream soup, and the cream had broken into a slurry. The leeks were very dark in color, and the potatoes had turned brown. On the other hand, the broth was lukewarm. Even the fact that the serving was very large was, in this case, a negative.
Okay. Onward. When I'm in a restaurant whose competence I doubt, I always ask the server what are the safest bets. She recommended the grilled pork loin. An enormous platter of that emerged, with a stuffing-dressing and some cooked beets underneath, and straight boiled cauliflower in a ramekin on the side. I went for the dressing first: cool room temperature! My mind reeled. That might mean the stuff has been sitting out, the temperature in the danger zone. Dressing, one of the most hospitable places for bacteria to grow. In this place, I could easily believe it. As it turned out, the reason it was cold was that it was served on the top plate of a pile next to an open window on this cold night. But the pork wasn't much warmer. It was overcooked, the way your grandmother used to cook pork, hard as a rock and just as juiceless. The beets were in contact with the cold plate, so it was hard to tell what temperature the chef was aiming for. The cauliflower, safe in its own dish, was steaming hot. But it was unseasoned, unless you could call water a seasoning.
"How is everything?" asked the waitress, hopefully. "Cold," I said. "Everything is cold." She was apologetic and took it back. It returned hot, but not good. I ate about fifteen percent of it. I don't eat food I don't enjoy.
The chef came out. "How did you like it?"
"It was. . . okay," I said, not wanting to get into it.
"Well, okay is not what we were aiming for," she said. "What can we do to get it up to great?" She gave no hint that she knew who I am, although I'm certain she did.
"I don't know," I said. I do know, but it would have taken more time to explain than any of us had.
A young man who appeared to be the manager came out. He brought a slice of pie. And then he told me an extremely long story about the restaurant, illustrated with various exhibits.
I paid the check and finally got out of there. I feel terrible for these people. I felt sorry for the food, even. I had a dream about them this night. They must exit this business and do something else that they enjoy.
Help Me Develop The New List
The 100 Best Restaurant Dishes
A couple of years ago I made up a list of what I thought were the 100 best dishes in New Orleans. I spent a few hours over the weekend reconstructing it in the new web format, but as I did I found the information was a bit out of date. Lots of new dishes. (Fortunately, very few on the list are no longer around.)
I figured before I start this project again I'd better ask you which dishes you think absolutely must be in this list. It's comparable to the 200 Essential Restaurants list, in that it should include things like poor boys, pho, and fried seafood.
Specific dishes in specific restaurants, please. Post your
nominees here on the Talk Food With Tom messageboard. Here's what else is being discussed there.
Meat Lasagna
The first step is to make a tomato sauce with a good deal of garlic, basil, and pepper in it. The pasta component also needs attention. The best possible would be to use fresh pasta, which will obviate the need to cook the pasta in advance. Although there are people who make lasagna with dried, uncooked noodles, I don't feel good about that, although I can't explain why. If I have to use dried, I cook it just long enough to take the stiffness out of them. The most expensive part of a good lasagna is the cheese. Don't stint on either the quality or the quantity of cheese you use.
- Sauce:
- 2 Tbs. olive oil
- 2 tsp. chopped garlic
- 1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper
- 1/2 tsp. dried basil
- 1/4 tsp. dried oregano
- 2 28-oz. cans Italian plum tomatoes, whole
- 1/4 tsp. salt
Other ingredients:
- 1/2 lb. ground round
- 1/2 lb. Italian sausage
- 1 medium onion, chopped
- 8 oz. lasagna noodles
- 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 10 oz. fresh spinach, picked and well washed
- 3 cloves garlic, chopped
- 4 oz. Fontina cheese
- 4 oz. mozzarella cheese, grated
- 8 oz. ricotta cheese
- 4 oz. Provolone cheese (shredded)
- 3/4 cup finely grated Romano cheese
- 1/2 pint heavy whipping cream
1. Make the sauce first. Drain the tomatoes (reserve the juice) and put them into a food processor; chop to a rough puree. (You can also do this with your fingers in a bowl.)
2. Heat the olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat till the oil shimmers. Saute the garlic and crushed red pepper for about a minute--until you can smell the garlic.
3. Add the tomatoes, 1/2 cup of the reserved juice, basil, oregano, and salt. Bring to a boil, and lower the heat to medium-low. Simmer for about an hour, uncovered, stirring now and then.
4. Removed the Italian sausage from casing and blend with ground round and chopped onions in a skillet over medium heat. Add 1/4 cup water. Cook while breaking the meat up with a kitchen fork to avoid clumping. Drain to removeexcess fat and set aside.
Preheat the oven to 250 degrees.
5. If using dried noodles, bring a large pot of water to the boil with 1 Tbs. salt and 1 Tbs. olive oil. Add the lasagna noodles and boil for about two minutes, or until the noodles are no longer stiff. Remove to a bowl of cold water for a moment, then remove and drain. (If using fresh pasta, omit this step.)
6. Cook the spinach in the same water you used to cook the pasta, just for a minute. Remove with a slotted spoon, drain, and spread out.
5. In a glass or ceramic baking dish (about 9"x13"x4"), pour about 1/4 cup of olive oil on the bottom and spread it up the sides. Make the following layers:
- Pasta.
- 1/3 cup sauce.
- Fontina cheese.
- 1/4 cup Romano cheese.
- 1/4 cup cream.
- Pasta (turn noodles 90 degrees to the first layer, and continue alternating throughout the remainder of the setup).
- 1/3 cup sauce.
- Meat mixture.
- Pasta.
- 1/3 cup sauce.
- Spinach.
- Garlic.
- Pasta.
- 1/3 cup sauce.
- Ricotta.
- Pasta.
- 1/3 cup sauce.
- Mozzarella.
- Pasta.
- Remaining sauce.
- Remaining Romano.
6. Cover the casserole with foil. Put the casserole in the center of the oven and bake for two hours. Insert a meat thermometer or fork into the center and check to see that the inside is very hot. If not, leave it in the oven another half hour.
7. Remove the foil and bake another 15 minutes or so, until the top gets slightly crusty.
8. After removing from the oven, let the lasagna rest for at least 15 minutes before attempting to slice. Use a sharp knife to slice, then remove pieces starting from the center with a metal spatula.
Serves about eight.
You can't act the way you do here in New Orleans, not even as you do in our French restaurants. It's a different culture. This short article discusses two matters in particular that can cause trouble. Click here for the article.
A few days ago we had a story about real restaurants with really bad names. It goes to show that fact is stranger than fiction. Click here for the cartoon.