Dec. 17, 2013. Andrea's Does It Again.

I hate having to write what follows. But I do have to write it, even though Chef Andrea Apuzzo is a long-time friend, a situation that increases the pain. Our old friends Oliver and Carolyn Kluna joined Mary Ann and me for our annual Christmastime dinner. Oliver was the best man at our wedding, and the two of them are Jude's godparents--among numerous other connections dating back almost forty years. We've almost always held this holiday dinner at Andrea's. But I think this was the last time. The evening was off to a bad start. It took a long time before the waiter checked in with us, let along brought anything to drink or nibble on. Like, fifteen minutes. I had a feeling I knew why: the parking lot was nearly full, even in its deepest removes. A big private party or two were going on. When the waiter got around to us, we had already decided to have a pizza for an appetizer. Mary Ann is enthralled by pizza generally and Andrea's new stone, wood-burning pizza oven in particular. The pie was reasonably good, but won't make any ten-best lists. The others ate very lightly, except for me. I was intrigued by the Reveillon menu, which had a great theme: most of what was on it was game. Pheasant, duck, rabbit, wild boar, and venison made for interesting menu reading. If only the eating had been as good! [caption id="attachment_40336" align="alignnone" width="480"] Duck tortellone at Andrea's.[/caption] The first course of that was duck tortellone--small, rounded ravioli, a great idea. But here was more evidence--I'm seeing a lot of it lately--that making something in house doesn't necessarily mean that it's better than the same item made by a food manufacturer. The pasta was way, way too thick, too glutinous, and unpleasant in texture. And where was the duck presence? Either there wasn't much of it, or it had been cooked to nothing. The big flavor in this plate was salt. Next course: a salad made of Belgian endive and radicchio. I like bitter-flavored foods at the beginning of a meal. I find it perks up the palate. But if a person who had never eaten a salad in his life were asked to assemble this one, he probably would have done a better job. The endives on the bottom were separated from the red radicchio by a layer of what looked like big leaves from a head of iceberg. The sauce was little in evidence. I had to wet the salad down with balsamic vinegar and olive oil myself to keep it from being just a pile of crisp, raw, very bitter greens. Capriolo venison was my entree. The menu said it was done in the Valdostana style, with prosciutto and Fontina cheese. But where was it? The meat was dry, tough, and tasteless, even after soaking in the brown sauce for awhile. The polenta was like dry, lumpy grits. I left ninety percent of the plate uneaten. The waiter said nothing about that. Meanwhile, the girls were having problems with what was billed as speckled trout with crabmeat. Andrea's, even on its bad days, always had great fresh fish. I was astonished that not even that could be counted on this night. The fish was mushy in texture and gamy in flavor. Nothing like any speckled trout I ever had before. The ladies each consumed less than half their dishes. When I first dined at Andrea's in the 1980s, it was terrific. The best Italian restaurant ever to open here. That makes it more painful still for me to eat yet another totally uninteresting (and that's being charitable) dinner here. It will be a long time before I return. What the place needs, if you ask me, is a new, independent chef. Andrea himself is so personable in the dining room that he ought to stay out there schmoozing the customers, and let someone who still knows what's good do the cooking. Because you can't talk someone into thinking he had a good meal if he didn't. Andrea's. Metairie: 3100 19th St. 504-834-8583.