[title type="h5"]Friday, February 27,2015.
Broussard's And Its New Chef.[/title]
Mary Ann's plans to travel to Germany continued their volley back and forth, several times a day, all week long. This is mostly about the weather in the eastern half of the country, which has caused many flights to be cancelled, making it much more difficult to travel on standby, as MA does. As of today, the trip is on hold. A week from Monday, I have to go to the hospital for a certain test I'm sure readers won't want to know about. I must have someone bring me home, sez the hospital, and Mary Ann is, I am thankful, immovable in her resolve to be my chauffeur. But that attenuates her journey too much, so she won't go until I'm finished with my ordeal.
Mary Leigh has had quite enough of all this. She was to tag along with MA to Germany and then spend some time with The Boy, who is currently stuck in his parents' home in Baltimore. She threw up her hands and flew straight to Balto, where she will be caught in yet another of the many snowstorms in the Northeast this cold winter. But she likes snow, and she loves The Boy.
I can't make up for the postponement of MA's Germany-Czech Republic trip (and indeed it is only postponed, and not for long, either). But I can at least ask her to dinner. I suggest Broussard's, toward which she is favorably disposed. The old restaurant had a chef change a couple of months ago, resulting in a significant reworking on the menu. Gone are the Alsatian tones of the previous head cook, replaced by a more distinct Creole and Cajun palette (or palate; either gets the meaning across). The new guy is Neil Swidler, who passed through two of Emeril's local restaurants over the years, spent some time at Mike's on the Avenue and Le Meritage (both now extinct), and was the corporate chef of the Juan's Flying Burrito/Slice operation.
Broussard's main dining room is nearly empty when we arrive. That doesn't last long. A party for more than a hundred people occupies Broussard's courtyard, as well as that of the Hermann-Grima House, to which Broussard's connects. But it is a cold night, and most of the action remains indoors. As the evening progresses, the main dining room fills up, too.
The meal starts off nicely. Broussard's buys its distinctive wheat-ear-like bread from the local artisanal Bellegarde Bakery, and it's hard to stop eating while we give a great deal of thought to the order.
We wind up getting a succession of appetizers, followed by a split entree. The first course is a very rich bisque of the local shellfish and the crabmeat croquettes with avocado salsa and red chile creme. I like it better than MA does; the texture of the interior bugs her a little.
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Scallops.[/caption]
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Barbecue shrimp.[/caption]
Now a pair of seared sea scallops of generous size, with pumplin ravioli and brown butter for me. Nice plate. She has barbecue shrimp--very large, headless but with a powerful sauce running around a pile of firm grits in which smoked cheddar makes a statement. Candied pecans work their way in somehow.
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Amberjack with a Caribbean quality.[/caption]
Here comes the entree, a thick slab of amberjack just off the grill, with a scattering about of pineapple, sugar peas, a sauce made of smoked black beans, and airplane-wing-shaped slices of fried plantain. I thought this was a pretty good plate of food. But MA lately has complained about fillets of fish cut too thick for her tastes.
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Oysters Rockefeller.[/caption]
That worked out well for me, though. The fish fills in the gap left by my share of course number three. It's oysters Rockefeller, made more or less the way Broussard's longtime owner and chef Gunter Preuss used to make it. He'd fry the oyster and put it atop the green sauce baked on the oyster shells. The oyster was good enough, but that sauce recipe need to be scrapped. It's like a spinach puree, with very little else going on, and (my turn to complain about textures) a disagreeable mouthfeel.
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Lemon and ginger tart.[/caption]
We finish with an interesting lemon and ginger pie with a laughably thick bottom crust. The essence of this was good enough, though, and it and the intense coffee ended the meal pleasantly.
This is a better dinner than most of the ones we had during the reign of the former chef. I think it will improve a bit more, however. If they're looking for suggestions, I'd say that a more extensive menu would be welcome. Not nearly enough seafood entrees here.
[title type="h5"]Broussard's. French Quarter: 819 Conti. 504-581-3866. [/title]
