Diary 1|16|2017: We Penetrate Meril. Scouting The Cookies.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris January 16, 2017 13:01 in

DiningDiarySquare-150x150 Thursday, January 12, 2017. Girl Scout Cookies Arrive.
The radio studios are loaded with sweets today. A few king cakes arrive from various sources. Some of the classic Carnival cakes are very dry, and some are cloyingly sweet. Three other cakes lacking the Mardi Gras colors or shape are here, too. Must be somebody's birthday. The Girl Scouts have landed on our radio shores, too. They leave me with a package of their S'More's cookies. Rectangles with shortcakes in the centers. These are covered with a paper-thin layer of marshmallow, which is in turn covered with a complete and generous coating of fudge. The other cookies are disks covered with chocolate on one side and "Thank You!" in several languages on the uncovered side. Both of these are good, but there is a big change from last year: the packages are about twice the size they were last year. This means that I get a smaller variety to sample. Oh, well. I'm eating too much sweet stuff anyway. [caption id="attachment_53732" align="alignnone" width="480"]One of several murals at Meril. One of several murals at Meril.[/caption] The Marys call to say that they have procured a table for tonight at Meril. Those just joining the Diary may have missed the two other times I've attempted to eat at Meril, Emeril Lagasse's fourth and newest restaurant in New Orleans. The Marys managed this by getting a reservation for 5:45 p.m. Although Meril is only a block and a half from the radio station, I'm not free from my master the microphone until six, at which time I always have five or ten minutes of handling an issue or two before I can stride out. So the girls will be sitting there killing time while waiting for me to appear at about a quarter after six. Restaurants don't like this. Some of them refuse to allow seating until every member of the dining party presents himself. [caption id="attachment_53734" align="alignleft" width="320"]Flatbread or pizza, as you like. Flatbread or pizza, as you like.[/caption] But Meril is actually set up for such shenanigans. Most of the menu--a long list--is made of appetizers. That is nothing new to Emeril's restaurants, especially Delmonico and Emeril's itself. But Meril's takes this to another level. Most of the dishes on the list are finishable in a few bites. The ingredients and techniques used are also familiar to diners who eat in chain restaurants than they are to five-star establishments. Yet they are indeed using first-class foodstuffs and methods. I mentioned all this when I wrote about what it was like not to have dinner at Meril a few days ago. Now that I've confronted it, I can confirm that here is a genuinely new approach to dining out--one tailored for people on the young side of the dining-out spectrum. From now on, this is as elegant as a restaurant will get, and as casual, too. No tablecloths, of course. Order a course of appetizers and nothing else. Finish the first round, then call the waiter back over to start working on another one. [caption id="attachment_53733" align="alignnone" width="480"]Mussels at Meril, after I decimate half of them. Mussels at Meril, after I decimate half of them.[/caption] "They set the menu that way on purpose," said the waiter taking care of us. Yes, that's quite clear. The food will be the star, more than the place, the service, the wine list, or anything else. The Marys were through with an offbeat approach to a flaky empanada. Then came flatbread from a wood-burning oven. Kind of like pizza, I thought. But they didn't want to use that word, I guess. The shape of the pizza is unusual, too, looking like a short skateboard. The taste is pizza-like. [caption id="attachment_53730" align="alignnone" width="480"]Bread pudding meets king cake. Bread pudding meets king cake.[/caption] But this place is not for kids. The great dish of the night is mussels. They aere the plumpest I've encountered in awhile, fat enough to display the evidence of their gender (pale white = female; pale orange = male). The sauce reminded me of the "wine sauce" on mussels in Belgium, where wine was hard to pick out and cream dominant. In this case, something about the sauce was so alluring that I asked the chef for the recipe. Simple: coconut milk. That they have mussels is a good sign. I remember a time when mussels were not to be found anywhere in New Orleans, even the gourmet places. People will order them now. By this time I had been spotted by Emeril's main people. I got a piece of bread pudding mounted with the colors of Mardi Gras. A new approach, that. There is much of it throughout Meril. It may be as much a turning point as Emeril's flagship was in 1990.
Meril. Warehouse District & Center City: 424 Girod St. 504-526-3745.