Lacombe

It doesn't matter much who you are. It's going to be tough getting a table at Sal and Judy's on moment's notice. That's even if you know Sal. ¶ Everybody knows Sal. Sal is one of the nicest guys in the restaurant business. He comes across as an Italian immigrant who hasn't quite figured things out, letting his customers fill him in. In reality, Sal is one of the most savvy restaurateurs around. Nobody except Paul Prudhomme or Emeril can match his success in marketing his sauces, salad dressings, seasonings, and olive oil, which are everywhere in New Orleans supermarkets. (They're successful largely because they really duplicate the flavors served in the restaurant.) ¶ Meanwhile, the food in house is worth a trip across the lake and the trouble of making a reservation well in advance.

Mid-City

For at least two generations of New Orleanians, the joys of restaurant dining were introduced in restaurants a lot like Mandina's. Or at Mandina's itself. Until the gourmet bistro era began in the 1980s, restaurants like this were in every New Orleans neighborhood. By then Mandina's had become not only a rarity but seemed to be every Orleanian's idea of what a neighborhood restaurant should be. Then Katrina came though and reminded us how important restaurants like this are to our cherished dining practices.

Westwego