[title type="h6"]Thursday, September 19, 2013.[/title]
I found a note in my emailbox asking me for a meeting tomorrow with Diane Newman, the operations director of my radio station (and of WWL, a much bigger job). Something about the station's website. I wonder if something is up.
Broussard's opened softly early this week. But they let the cat out of the bag tonight, when the new owners--a company called Creole Culinary Restaurant Concepts--hosted a ribbon-cutting party. The CCRC people spent about a million dollars on renovations, most of it going into the complete reworking of the entryway. That was the most aggressively antique part of the building, formerly lined with hand-glazed, illustrated tiles. Those are now buried beneath venetian plaster, which looks contemporary. That's probably a good idea. As time goes by, obvious antiquity in a restaurant building becomes more and more a negative. Not for me and the many locals who have a soft spot for old restaurants, but for people--visitors, particularly--who don't know any better.
The rest of the place looks much as it had, with the main alterations being in the repair-and-paint department. And in the bar, which everyone told me was stunning. I never got a good look at it, because this was a party attended by New Orleans bon vivants, offering free-flowing drinks. The guests were always at least three deep at the bar. How could it be otherwise?
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Marie Antoinette has Champagne for us.[/caption]
It was quite a party. We were greeted by a young woman dressed up as Marie Antoinette, who stood in the center of an apparatus made of chrome wire, holding several dozen glasses of Champagne. The spread of food was alluring, to say the least. I was quite ready to scarf it down once I maneuvered past the people I hadn't spoken to yet. (The curse of being a micro-celebrity is that you have a hard time getting to the food and wine at grazing events. Every three feet is another person who wants to talk. Of course, this is a good curse in the big picture.)
One of the first people I met proved to be the most interesting. Executive Chef Guy Reinbolt is a native of Alsace, in northeastern France. It's one of the most celebrated parts of France for its cooking, with good reason.
Chef Guy (pronounced the French way, with a hard "g" and rhyming with "me") has worked in New Orleans before, at the memorable Henri restaurant in the 1980s. Marc Haeberlin, whose family owns Auberge de L'Ill in Alsace, consulted on Henri, and Chef Guy carried out the instructions from his fellow Alsatians. All this was saying something, because back then Auberge de l'Ill was called the best restaurant in the world by more than a few writers. I dined there twice, and can confirm that.
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Executive chef Guy Reinbolt.[/caption]
From talking with him it was clear that Chef Guy understands that classic French food will not cut it in New Orleans, without the concurrent presence of New Orleans flavors. His menu is decidedly French-Creole.
But it's not the same French-Creole food that Chef Gunter Preuss cooked here for thirty years. Chef Gunter, who sold the restaurant to CCRC some months ago and then went into near-retirement, was also in the house tonight, along with his uniquely charming wife Evelyn. "Have you been here before?" I asked them.
"Just a couple of weeks," said Evelyn. Good laugh. Gunter is one of those chefs who never stops working. Cooking at Broussard's was his life from 1983 till just now. (Not to mention the twenty years in other New Orleans restaurants before that.)
After talking with other guests for an hour, Mary Ann found a table where we could deposit our avoirdupois. Almost immediately, the route of the waiters carrying trays of the best food changed to include us. I think we had been spotted. I will limit myself to four particularly wonderful items:
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Oysters three ways--none of them Rockefeller or Bienville.[/caption]
1. Baked oysters. None of them were either Rockefeller or Bienville; all of them were marvelous. Even Mary Ann thought so, and she doesn't entirely share my passion for baked, heavily-sauced oysters.
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Grilled, stuffed lamb chops with crabmeat.[/caption]
B. Grilled lamb chops stuffed with crabmeat and (I think) goat cheese. You didn't want to waste time with a fork and knife, but just picked the chop up and started in.
iii.) Coulibiac of redfish. The name is Russian, describing a classic French dish in which the fish is wrapped in pastry along with a rich sauce. I haven't seen this in New Orleans in decades.
4. Carved sirloin strip steak with bearnaise. What's not to love there?
Chris Ycaza, formerly the general manager of Galatoire's, Maximo's, and Cuvee, and now the major domo at Broussard's, stopped by. We got to talking about Broussard's and its uniqueness. Then I remember something Evelyn Preuss showed me a few years ago. If you stand all the way in the rear of Broussard's handsome courtyard and look back the other way, you take in a decidedly French Quarter scene, with 1800s buildings made of irregular brick rising all around. But in the background is a tall, thoroughly modern, brightly lit skyscraper poking up in the background. It's an amazing panorama.
I heard the jazz trio playing a familiar song. "Sweet Lorraine" is a number I often ask musicians to play while allowing me to do the vocals. In fact, I have done that with these very guys before. "You want to sing it again with us?" the banjo player asked. Are you kidding? I ended it with a grandstanding legato note at approximately the upper limit of my range.
I was getting a look from the crowd, but particularly from Poppy Tooker. Where'd she come from? She was there with her husband. I love it when people I know hear me vocalize for the first time, and don't immediately say, "Don't quit your day job."[title
type="h5"]Broussard's. French Quarter: 819 Conti. 504-581-3866.[/title]
