Diary |26|2015: First Taste Of Chappy's.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris July 03, 2015 12:01 in

[title type="h5"]DiningDiarySquare-150x150 Friday, June 26, 2015. Chappy's, First Taste.[/title] Even though Magazine Street is the most interesting part of town for fans of gourmet bistros, an address on the Street Of Dreams is no guarantee of success. The restaurant on the corner of Magazine and Webster, despite the comings and goings of good chefs and a lot of buzz, can't be said to have established a strong clientele. As Johnny V's Grill On The Hill, it first appeared as a spinoff of Clancy's. Several of that restaurant's longtime people formed the nucleus of Johnny V's. A few chefs with fairly high profiles (Ryan Hughes, now of Purloo; Armand Jonte, formerly of Gautreau's) came and went, leaving the restaurant uninspired. It closed for most of last year. Now the place has a new name and a new personality in the kitchen. For some twenty years, Chef John Chapman operated a restaurant called Chappy's in Long Beach, Mississippi. He developed a following there, enough to keep him going after Hurricane Katrina wiped his restaurant off the face of the earth. With the help of a friend he opened an eatery in Nashville. Nashville is not an especially good food town. Certainly, a Creole-style menu is a hard sell there. Last year, Chappy (he is a one-name figure to everyone who knows him even a little) moved on. [caption id="attachment_48082" align="alignnone" width="480"]Chappy's dining room. Chappy's dining room.[/caption] He found the open space at Johnny V's in late 2014, and took a flier at it. He kept the decor the way it was: a unique inside-out courtyard. The dining room appears to be surrounded by New Orleans-style buildings. Those with long memories will be reminded of the old downtown Morrison's Cafeteria on Gravier Street. The black ceiling is riddled with tiny lights resembling stars. [caption id="attachment_48081" align="alignright" width="133"]Mrs. Chappy. Mrs. Chappy.[/caption]I've had a few radio-show calls lately about Chappy's, all of which were glowing. I think I'll give it a try. A hostess greets me immediately after I open the door, and she offers a seat anywhere I want. The place is about a third filled, with several window tables available. Not long after, another lady comes to the table to make sure I am nestled in properly. She turns out later to be Mrs. Chappy, who has worked with the man for about as long as he's operated a restaurant. She seems to be thoroughly involved. [caption id="attachment_48076" align="alignnone" width="480"]Oysters Rockefeller at Chappy's. Oysters Rockefeller at Chappy's.[/caption] I begin with oysters Rockefeller. When I see them, I order them, always. The presentation is like no other: the half-dozen crusty, crackly fried oysters are in single file along a narrow plate. Underneath them is a sauce that looks like creamed spinach with something like Brie cheese stirred in. I don't much like the thickness of the sauce or the ingredients--this doesn't fit the description of Rockefeller to me. But all the flavors are undeniably enjoyable, and the contrast in texture is exciting. I'd rather find that than all the other details. [caption id="attachment_48080" align="alignnone" width="480"]House salad. House salad.[/caption] Next comes a well-made, ample house salad--included in the price, as all diners on the Mississippi Gulf Coast insist it should be. This is not the first or the last evidence of Chappy's long term there. Coastal dining has always had its own set of rules, quite different from those of New Orleans. [caption id="attachment_48079" align="alignnone" width="480"]Trout meuniere, pasta bordelaise. Trout meuniere, pasta bordelaise.[/caption] [caption id="attachment_48077" align="alignright" width="133"]Chappy. Chappy.[/caption]My entree is a variation on one of the day's specials, in which a fillet of speckled trout gets a covering white sauce with crabmeat and crawfish or some such. (They love that on the Gulf Coast.) I ask to have the sauce left off, with meuniere sauce instead. The color of the fish's coating looks strange, but one bite convinces me of its goodness. Nice contrast, again, between the crisp coating of the fish and its tender interior. The sauce is like no meuniere I've ever encountered, but it passes all the important tests and is very good. For the complimentary side I get linguine bordelaise--the kind that Italians would call aglio olio. This is also just right. I can't remember meeting Chappy before, but he clearly knows me, judging by his visit to the table, late in the meal. We have an element of New Orleans Incest going on. (The theory: there are only 500 people living in New Orleans. Proof: Chappy and my wife Mary Ann were in the same class in grammar school, in Kenner.) He is congenial and instantly likeable, with none of the pretentiousness so many chefs put forth these days. [caption id="attachment_48078" align="alignnone" width="480"]Bread pudding at Chappy's. Bread pudding at Chappy's.[/caption] I have a very good bread pudding for dessert. Like everything else, it's lined up on a long, straight plate. The only round plate I have is the one under the salad. What difference that makes is hard to say. Easier to figure: I leave happy. [title type="h5"]Chappy's. Uptown: 6106 Magazine St. 504-899-4880. [/title]