[title type="h5"]Wednesday, March 25, 2015.
Checking On Tujague's.[/title]
Two days ago, Poppy Tooker was on the radio show (mine, not hers) and brought up Tujague's for two reasons. First, she will soon have a Tujague's cookbook finished and published. Second, Tujague's discovered an old cocktail recipe lying around in storage for a century, but apparently never before used.
So the old place is on my mind. I go there for dinner tonight to scratch that itch. I am past the automatic association of shrimp remoulade, boiled beef brisket and chicken bonne femme with coming here, so well has Mark Latter's new menu and style changed the Tujague's experience.
The bar is nearly full when I arrive. The dining room is nearly deserted, but that would change for the better during the ensuing hour. I grab the second table from the old dining room entry. It's no longer used for regular ingress and egress, so the cold air from outside won't rush in.
I ask the server whether the newly-unearthed cocktail called Whiskey Punch has been installed in Tujague's famous, neon-gleaming bar. The big unrolling of the drink isn't until Friday. She comes back with the news that the bartender will make it, but because he hasn't made many of them yet, it may take him a few minutes. I never go to Tujague's in a hurry, I say. Have at it.
The drink looks like a Ramos Gin Fizz, one of the classic old drinks of New Orleans. Like the Fizz, it has eggs and cream in the mix, plus the whiskey and a couple other variant ingredients. It's served in a martini glass, and is a fine drink. I'll bet this would be popular at brunch.
The maitre d' knows me, and there is an uptick in my service as a result. I get an amuse-bouche of the new Best Dish At Tujague's, Even Better Than The Brisket: potato gnocchi with lump crabmeat and wild mushrooms in a lightly creamy sauce. If Tujague's can make such perfect, light, non-gummy gnocchi, why do so many other restaurants fail utterly at the task? (The only comparable version is at August.)
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Vegetable soup at Tujague's.[/caption]The soup of the day is vegetable. My memory leaps to attention with the note that a group of French Quarter people--artists, mostly–meet for lunch at Tujague's every Wednesday. They insist on getting the vegetable soup Tujague's makes from the brisket stock. This too has been upgraded, with a much lighter broth and a more interesting assortment of vegetables. I always loved this stuff, and I do even more today.
The entree is a filet mignon, abetted with fried oysters and bearnaise sauce. This too is an upgrade--Tujague's always had a nice filet on its menu. (Not to mention its non-menu, with which it worked for over a century.) The oysters are good, the bearnaise likewise. But the steak is actually tough. Tenderloin should not be tough--certainly not at $39. They need to confer with their supplier about this.
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Filet with fried oysters and bearnaise.[/caption]
Now and then I am surprised--pleasantly and embarrassingly at the same time--to learn something I should have known for years. I have always cut into steaks from the top down. The chewiness of today's filet is such that I attempt to loosen it up by cutting across the cylinder of beef instead. [Light bulb goes on here.] I have told my radio listeners for a long time that tougher cuts of beef should always be cut across the grain, never parallel to it. But that's just what I failed to do here! Duh. I will remember that next time I get a filet mignon with this problem. Which I hope will be never.
Bread pudding for dessert. So, in an effort to eat New Food at Tujague's, I have a hundred-year-old drink, a brilliant new appetizer, a soup from as far back as anyone can remember, a new approach to steak, and an ancient dessert. Contrasts. That may be the ultimate way to enjoy the New Tujague's.
[title type="h5"]Tujague's. French Quarter: 823 Decatur. 504-525-8676. [/title][divider type=""]
[title type="h5"]Thursday, March 26, 2015.
Emeril's Is Twenty-Five.[/title]
Tracking the longevity of restaurants is something I do routinely. So I knew before the phone call came inviting me to a media lunch celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of Emeril's that today was the day. I was in the room the first night the place was open. It was a very full house. And that was before television had discovered Emeril Lagasse. After many years at Commander's Palace, everybody who likes restaurants knew who and what he was.
With me that night was not only Mary Ann but Jude, who was eight months old at the time. He sat quietly for the whole dinner, which is asking something of a kid that age. But there was so much going on in the noisy room that I think it fascinated him.
Today, when Emeril stopped at our table of press weasels, I dialed up Jude in Los Angeles and handed the phone to Emeril. "Someone who was here on opening night wants to congratulate you," I told the chef. If Jude's new bride had been with him, she would have been mightily impressed. But movie-producer Jude is accustomed to talking with big-name stars.
Emeril never puts on forgettable parties. The food was as good as the buzz, with his unique barbecue shrimp, boudin balls, beef kebabs, and a few more pass-around nibbles. We sit down to a three-course repast of dishes from various epochs in the restaurant's past. To fit a lot of them in, we have three choices in each course. Somehow, I get lucky and pick all the best things. They begin with a cartoon of a muffuletta, with sesame chips instead of Italian bread, tuna crudo instead of ham, and olive salad unaltered.
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A very unusual take on a muffuletta.[/caption]
[caption id="attachment_47107" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Squid-ink bucatini pasta with shrimp.[/caption]
Now house-made bucatini pasta made with squid ink, twisted around a creamy sauce with shrimp and crawfish.
Finally, that superbly rich, powerful pork chop that remained on the menu for years with a sauce combining Southwestern and Creole tastes.
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Pork chop enrobed with sauces.[/caption]
The desserts are numerous, as they always have been here. Two variations on the ice cream sandwich, a couple of pies and cheesecakes, and a big birthday cake that required all the cooks on duty to blow it out.
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Blowing out the candles at Emeril's 25th anniversary bash.[/caption]
I was a bit surprised by the press people who showed up. None of the new breed of critics (if you can call them that, given that hardly any ever give ratings anymore). But Gene Bourg--who took over the restaurant column in the Times-Picayune after Richard Collin retired in the early 1980s--surfaced ths day. I haven't seen him in many years. The last time, he was having dinner with Ella Brennan, and told me he hardly ever went out anymore. He looks healthy enough today.
The wines were good and freely poured, enough that I would not be at my sharpest doing the radio show. I left to walk through the rain (with an umbrella) the two blocks from Emeril's to the studios. I took a twenty-minute nap in my office, which helped.
Oddly, not a soul called me on the air about Emeril's.
[title type="h5"]Emeril's. Warehouse District & Center City: 800 Tchoupitoulas. 504-528-9393. [/title][divider type=""]
