French Flies

Written by Mary Ann Fitzmorris June 19, 2020 08:28 in Dining Diary

Continuing with our commitment to eat at places on the northshore that are not in our normal routine, we stayed close to home again and went to the Abita Brew Pub, which is literally our neighborhood restaurant. The last time we were there was at least ten years ago, when for some odd reason there was an Eat Club. It was the most unlikely place an Eat Club ever occurred but it was delicious and very successful.

We never go to the Abita Brew Pub because the last time we were there, even for the Eat Club, getting back to the dining room required passing through a gauntlet of bikers, who always filled the bar which was the passageway from front door to dining room.

It was really the vibe that turned us off to the place. When last we heard, it was helmed brew pub by a French chef who operated a really delicious place in Mandeville in the Nineties called The Paris Bistro. He owned it with his sister and it was the scene of many happy Daddy- daughter dates. It seemed an unlikely move that this French chef should wind up at an ordinary brew pub, but that wasn’t enough to get us there.

And then the lockdown came and now we don’t venture as far away as we used to. The curiosity started when we saw the banner offering take-out during lockdown. That motivated us to try the pizza at Mama D’s, nnd that went very well. We’ve been back there a few times.

It seemed time to try the Brew Pub. We went for lunch yesterday. Since the last time we were there, a patio expansion alongside the Trace is a great improvement.

There were fans everywhere and misters made it almost too chilly. We moved over to the tables nearest the Trace. It was warmer there, but when the sun came out it became uncomfortably warm, even after we put up the umbrella.

We ordered fried artichoke hearts which came with ranch dressing. These had a mild kick to them, and were meaty. It was a large order, which explained the $10 plus price. They were greaseless, golden brown and crispy. Very good. There was so much out of this we ran out of Ranch dressing, but we didn’t ask for more because we didn’t see the waitress.

I also ordered crawfish cornbread, which was not as good as it sounded. The cornbread was moist, the crawfish meaty, and it was a good little side. 

Entree selections were varied. I got a burger well done, which it absolutely was. The meat was very appealing, and it was dressed properly, with a good layer of cheddar. This was quite a good burger. It came with utterly ordinary frozen fries.

Tom got the pecan-fried catfish, and it came with pecans in the batter. The enormous piece of fish had a honey pecan sauce on top and came with a cafeteria-style scoop of mashed potatoes and a sad medley of broccoli.

The last thing on the table was a fried chicken salad that came with a honey mustard dressing. (Is that still out there?) ML had swapped that one for a jalapeno ranch, a decision she mildly regretted. The jalapeno ranch came with the Southwest eggrolls. It seemed to overwhelm a salad, even one this large.

All of these things came after we had waited too long. Then it was time to take pictures, which is essential in the Instagram world of 2020. This was quite a challenge, because when the food arrived, so did a nearly Biblical infestation of flies. It was tough to discourage them even long enough for pictures, I almost ate one. Something should be done about this.

We’ll have to go back. The food was quite good. It deserves a few more chances.