Part II: Tuesday, May 17, 2016.
We Somehow Get A Table At Shaya.
The Marys are in town, still finding ways to make ML's wedding reception even more fabulous. But that effort is eclipsed by MA's success at getting a table tonight at Shaya. Named the best new restaurant of the year in America by both Esquire and the James Beard organization, the place is jammed every night for weeks or even months in advance.
But Mary Ann is good at weaseling her way into unlikely places. Her Parking Witch superpowers are astonishing: she finds a legal parking spot wherever she goes, usually right in front of the target address. And although the looks on the faces of Shaya's hostesses tell me that they tried to stop her, she somehow got a table.
The Marys have already gone through three dishes of various dips and and crunchy marinated vegetables. Also on the table is Shaya's most celebrated specialty: pita bread that's puffed up many times bigger than any pita I've ever encountered. The story is that chef and co-owner (John Besh is the other one) is Alon Shaya, who also manages Dominica in the Roosevelt Hotel. The pita bread is his pizza dough, rolled out thicker than normal and baked at Shaya in a big, hot oven. You cannot stop eating this wonderful bread, which is good all by itself, but even better when you go after the dips and dabs.
[caption id="attachment_51537" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Halloumi @ Shaya.[/caption]
The first dish I get is crispy halloumi. The latter word usually announces the presence of cheese and flames. Not here. Leeks, fresh peas (who else in town has that?), and a smooth sauce made from the cheese (made with goat's milk, and perhaps some sheep's milk), and preserved lemon. It comes together with some grilled chunks of the cheese, and is so delicious that I am tempted to get another dish of it. And another pita bread.
[caption id="attachment_51539" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Lamb shank with beaten feta cheese at Shaya.[/caption]
But there is no time and no stomach space. My entree is a whole lamb shank, darkly roasted but still very tender with a glaze of some kind of sharp, citrusy juice. The sauce is made by whipping feta cheese. I never thought about lamb and cheese, but I will not soon forget this.
[caption id="attachment_51540" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Short ribs.[/caption]
Meanwhile, the Marys are at work on short ribs, one of their favorite meaty foods. There is plenty of this, but not nearly as much as the shanks in front of me. All we can talk about is how deeply the deliciousness goes in all of this. And a little about the waitress's disdain for MA's seating strategy. I didn't see that, myself, but MA says that the waitress has her number.
[caption id="attachment_51541" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Milk and honey, a little burned (on purpose).[/caption]
The Marys do not eat desserts, but I do. Shaya calls it "milk and honey," which amounts to cheesecake topped with burned honey ice cream. Israeli creme brulee? Or panna cotta? Good enough for me.
One can't regard this place in the same way one thinks of the many other Middle Eastern restaurants in town. Everything at Shaya involves first-class ingredients and techniques. And we ate very generously. That explains how the check grew to $158 for the three of us. But here is a full house all the time. What an opportunity to carry forward an entirely new (for New Orleans) style of cooking. This is my third repast here, in which I have sampled almost everything on the menu. It is all as exciting as the buzz says it is.
Shaya. Uptown: 4213 Magazine St. 504-891-4213.
Halloumi @ Shaya.[/caption]
The first dish I get is crispy halloumi. The latter word usually announces the presence of cheese and flames. Not here. Leeks, fresh peas (who else in town has that?), and a smooth sauce made from the cheese (made with goat's milk, and perhaps some sheep's milk), and preserved lemon. It comes together with some grilled chunks of the cheese, and is so delicious that I am tempted to get another dish of it. And another pita bread.
[caption id="attachment_51539" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Lamb shank with beaten feta cheese at Shaya.[/caption]
But there is no time and no stomach space. My entree is a whole lamb shank, darkly roasted but still very tender with a glaze of some kind of sharp, citrusy juice. The sauce is made by whipping feta cheese. I never thought about lamb and cheese, but I will not soon forget this.
[caption id="attachment_51540" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Short ribs.[/caption]
Meanwhile, the Marys are at work on short ribs, one of their favorite meaty foods. There is plenty of this, but not nearly as much as the shanks in front of me. All we can talk about is how deeply the deliciousness goes in all of this. And a little about the waitress's disdain for MA's seating strategy. I didn't see that, myself, but MA says that the waitress has her number.
[caption id="attachment_51541" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Milk and honey, a little burned (on purpose).[/caption]
The Marys do not eat desserts, but I do. Shaya calls it "milk and honey," which amounts to cheesecake topped with burned honey ice cream. Israeli creme brulee? Or panna cotta? Good enough for me.
One can't regard this place in the same way one thinks of the many other Middle Eastern restaurants in town. Everything at Shaya involves first-class ingredients and techniques. And we ate very generously. That explains how the check grew to $158 for the three of us. But here is a full house all the time. What an opportunity to carry forward an entirely new (for New Orleans) style of cooking. This is my third repast here, in which I have sampled almost everything on the menu. It is all as exciting as the buzz says it is.
