In the nearly 35 years that Tom and I have been together, I have been puzzled by a lot of his stories. Unfortunately, it’s only lately that I’ve come to think of them more as brilliant than peculiar.
One of these can only be called a fixation, and it predates me. One night in 1977, five years into Tom’s career writing about food, (and before Archie Casbarian rescued the place,) he wandered into Arnaud’s and discovered an item on the absurdly long menu with the glorious title “Rock Cornish Game Hen Flambee a la Twelfth Night.” But he didn’t get it, opting instead for what insiders call the “Arnaud’s Happy Meal” of Shrimp Remoulade, Trout Meuniere, and Bread Pudding (now Fitzmorris.)
Tom made a mental note to return on Twelfth Night to have this intriguing dish. When he did, he was informed that the dish wasn’t available, with the waiter directing him to the “Happy Meal.”
When Archie Casbarian changed the fortunes of the restaurant two years later, the Rock Cornish Game Hen Flambee a la Twelfth Night made it back onto the menu, and Tom had it, quite pleased with its excellence.
He returned every January 6th for a decade and had this delicious and deliciously-named dish. And then it disappeared, only to return as an occasional special.
Many years later, it was the featured dish for a black-tie Food Show Christmas Eat Club in 2015 (see article here:
https://nomenu.com/posts/tuesday-december-15-2009-black-tie-dinner-at-arnaud-s)
as well as a not-infrequent retelling of its existence and its goodness.
So when it was time to gather Tom’s family for our annual Christmas get-together, I remembered this mythical menu item and inquired about a January 6th booking with a special menu for us, to be built around Rock Cornish Game Hen Flambee a la Twelfth Night, which of course also included most of the Arnaud’s Happy Meal.
We started with Soufflé Potatoes (the best version of these in town), followed by Shrimp Remoulade, the entree…Rock Cornish Game Hen Flambee a la Twelfth Night, and Bread Pudding Fitzmorris.
We sat in a tiny room off the second bar perfect for eight people. It was a festive night, with rooms abuzz with the revelry expected for a wedding reception, which filled all rooms but the main dining room and ours. What fun!
It was so nice to see waiters we have known throughout the years giving us such impeccable service. In my wildest imaginings, this night could not have been better.
We started in with a glass of champagne from the same Dom Perignon series given to Tom by Danny Millan years ago. It always surprises me how many glasses come from a single bottle.
The amuse bouche was the delightful and rarely-seen daube glacé, so well done here. It was served with a ruffled housemade potato chip and presented prettily with a dollop or two of coarse mustard and some chopped pickled things. As a hogshead cheese fan, I am always thrilled to have a bit of daube glacé. Even the skeptics in the room this night were happy with this little starter.
Much has been written in this space about the soufflé potatoes here, which stand out among the rest. They are always crisp on the outside, hollow inside, and never more than perfect golden brown. The Bearnaise is terrific, and the presentation is special. I love these, and I’m usually ambivalent about the dish.
Even though I usually prefer the white remoulade to the red, here is the definitive version of the New Orleans classic. Arnaud’s Shrimp Remoulade is so pungent with horseradish that it takes you aback, but it is just great. The contrast of heat from the sauce, the cold temperature of the perfectly boiled shrimp sitting on a bed of cold lettuce, and the stark color dichotomy make this another local classic that here, stands apart.
But the entree was the star of this show, and it lived up to its billing. The Rock Cornish Game Hen Flambee a la Twelfth Night was stunning in every way. It came beautifully presented, with the whole bird sitting, legs up, vegetables practically erupting from the cavity, sitting in a rich puddle of demi-glace. You could actually smell the richness of this dish.
The hen was roasted to the "sweet spot," with a skin that was probably crisp but for the moisture from the vegetables. It made it easier to eat, so tender it pulled apart. Heirloom carrots and mushrooms spilled from it with each movement, dropping into the dark sauce so exquisitely executed it had that delicious mouthfeel on the lips.
But flavor like this is so complex there had to be more to the base of this dish. A stuffing underneath the vegetables filled the bird’s cavity with a flavor that stopped me in my tracks. Here it was! What Tom has spent a lifetime chronicling! This type of nuanced cooking that is only found in the best of restaurants, and not even in many of those. The taste of gourmet.
I couldn’t get enough of this taste! What was it that was delivering such a flavor wallop? I checked the specially printed menus. The “stuffing” (and it pains me to realize that word is also on a box of Stouffer’s) was a truffled veal Mousseline. The sauce underneath was a Red Wine reduction.
The combination of the hen, vegetables, Mousseline, and demi-glace was so rich and soul-satisfying I finally understood Tom’s contention that you don’t need to eat a lot of the “good stuff” because it satisfies you at a base level. Here is food to savor over great conversation and wine. This is dining, where you sit and have an experience that lasts hours. This is something you will remember.
I would ask “Where has this been all my life?”, but for the last 35 it has been right in front of me, yet I have chosen the cheap version of eating. Poor Tom has been dragged my way these last few years because of his situation. In my defense, it has been quite difficult getting around. But it is a new year, and we will return to his wheelhouse, not all the time, but a lot more. It is definitely worth it. I only wish for his sake my epiphany hadn’t come so late.
