Boozy Seafood

The space in Lakeview where the iconic Steak Knife began has been a revolving door for all subsequent restaurants. What’s odd about that is that all of them, with one or two exceptions, were longstanding successful restaurants. Huh?  To name a few: Barataria and Susan Spicer’s beloved Mondo, and of course the Steak Knife, the only one still around. The most recent occupant, Outpost 45, had an entire group of longtime successful restaurants as a support network behind it. What gives?

Another new occupant of the space also has a good support network, and a talented idea man in Chef David McCelvey. I will be watching this develop with much interest. First, it is an old school restaurant. By that I mean real rather than silly food. I mean a menu of recognizable things organized in the normal way, and waiters that are not just passing through.

What is interesting to me about the place in particular is its emphasis on booze. I am not a drinker so I can’t speak to this as a grateful drinker, but I will address it as a fascinated observer.

When I often read that alcohol consumption is way down, and that the younger generations don’t even drink at all, I am intrigued at restaurants that open with a name alluding to alcohol as a subtitle. This one is “Boil & Barrel,” the barrel meaning Bourbon, and beer. The bar has a Happy Hour with drinks only, and there are special bites only available in the bar that are meant to be paired with the Bourbon.

For quite some time now, cocktails have had an increasingly important role in dining out. Cocktail menus are at least as large as food menus. I think this idea has helped restaurants with their profitability margins, but I wonder if focusing on a single spirit redounds to their benefit the same way. It’s a conversation I want to have with a restaurateur doing this.

The food menu for the “boil” part of Boil & Barrel is fantastically appealing. Crabcakes, ceviche, oysters, crab claws, loaded cheese fries, all very popular menu items.

Here is a manageable menu of regular New Orleans food offering fried seafood, raw and chargrilled oysters, and sandwiches as well as special menu items.  But it is only one half of the options from the kitchen. There is another whole menu of boiled seafood. We kept our hands clean on this visit.

The menu was so appealing we had trouble narrowing it down. We started with a cup of chicken andouille gumbo, a crab cake, shrimp remoulade, and ceviche. For entrees we split a gulf fish sandwich and swapped fries for cheese grits, adding an extra side of potatoes au gratin.

I wasn’t expecting a shrimp remoulade like what was delivered to the table. The only familiar trait was shrimp. It was served on a single leaf of Romaine lettuce and it was accompanied by a side dish of  pickled vegetables. Remoulade sauce in my experience is usually creamier, with a more subtle shrimp color. Usually there are much less shrimp but much larger individual pieces. I was taken aback at the sight.

Speaking only for me, I much prefer smaller shrimp in general. I realize this is likely a minority opinion, but I enjoyed chewing on a smaller size sea creature than I am usually served. When shrimp need to be cut, I’m done. This app was the same amount of protein by weight (which is how it is presented on the menu) in an easier to eat presentation. I appreciated that. The sauce in the shrimp just seemed off. Definitely not as creamy as usual, and the taste was different, but I liked it and it improved the more I ate. Everyone wants to put their own spin on a familiar dish. Usually it doesn't work. But this grew on me.

Pickled vegetables are always welcomed by me. I liked them long before they were trendy. Now, thankfully, they are practically inescapable. These were carrots and a white one we couldn’t identify right away. When the waiter returned with the answer that it was mirliton, it made perfect sense. I have had pickled mirliton but it was sliced differently. This was thin shavings. We loved this.

With an average-colored roux, the gumbo was served with a generous amount of white rice, which was not really necessary given the thickness of this local classic. Boil & Barrel’s version borders on too thick, but that is my only complaint. The chicken was shredded and plentiful, the andouille very nice and also plentiful, and the spice level perfect.

Even though we both wanted a crab cake, I’m glad we only got one. It was very large. For $19 and that size, one should not expect jumbo lump. I would expect a lot of filler. I didn’t inspect it, but I didn’t register breading at all. It was shreds of crabmeat, and a lot of it, magically held together and pan-seared to a crust. It sat in a large puddle of creamy sauce loaded with capers. I loved this.

We also had ceviche. The same size shrimp mixed with the usual ingredients plus mango. It came with crispy tortilla chips and a side of plain creamy guac. The guac was basic which to me is good. Avocado is so wonderful it doesn’t need much.  The chips were crispy and  presented in a cone of parchment. Nice. I have said before that I don’t usually see mango, but to me its appearance in a dish adds an umami quality. I love the breeze freshness it imparts. The same is true here. It was a welcome addition to the ceviche.

About this time some chargrilled oysters arrived at the table. They came with a few slices of crostini. These were smallish because that's what they are this week. We were glad because we are smallish oyster people. I loved the intense Parmesan flavor.  And the dryish nature. My personal preference is of drier rather than wet for chargrilled oysters, so these were perfect. 

The last thing on the table was a fish sandwich. It took a while to decide between the fish a la plancha or the sandwich. The full plate seemed too much more food in an already absurd amount, so I went with the sandwich. I was curious to see the preparation of the big plate, which included Chimichurri, something I am seeing more with fish. I am crazy about the sauce but have almost always seen it with beef. Still getting used to the seafood pairing.

When this simple sandwich arrived, I immediately regretted not getting the other dish. It was a simple bun with two pieces of drum protruding from the sides. The fish looked so plain I wondered what they were doing. As a lukewarm fish fan, I was suddenly dreading my choice. We cut the sandwich in half and removed the bun, leaving the blandest-looking piece of fish I have ever seen.

In perhaps the best example of “looks can be deceiving” I can ever remember, I was blown away by the simple goodness of the fish. Left on the bread was a tartar sauce that didn’t seem to transfer to the fish. Could this condiment be that flavorful? Could this fish be that tasty? I was gaga over this slab of protein from our gulf waters. Sublime!

Both of us were in total agreement about this, and equally shocked. Drum is my new favorite fish. David McCelvey came over to check on us and he told me it was Hatch chili-flavored tartar sauce made in-house. My already over-the-top obsession with Hatch chiles just intensified.

We swapped fries for cheese grits, which were coarse-ground and so filled with cheddar they had a mild orange color and an extra-sharp flavor. The potatoes au gratin were sliced for a Dauphinoise preparation, and they were properly creamy and cheese. Someone in that kitchen stays busy with a mandolin.

We passed on desserts because we were so full. Two of the four had a booze component, and the two that didn’t weren’t chocolate. Next time.

I like this space. I have always liked this space through all its various iterations, but this is my favorite. Mildly dark with booths and wood, it feels comfortable. The wait staff is helpful and familiar, and most seem to have come with the building. That’s good. And Emeril’s alum David McCelvey is running things with his son in the kitchen. This is one to watch.

It will take several visits to even get a good sample of this menu. I won’t be doing the “Barrel,” but there’s plenty of “Boil” to still experience. I look forward to it.