Wednesday, April 2, 2014 McClain's Pizzeria.
A pretty day, perfect for skipping the commute into town and running the radio show from my crammed little home office. Then taking a walk, negotiating around the many marshy spots on the trail. Then going out for supper with the Marys. Mary Ann had an idea: pizza, at McClain's in Mandeville. McClain's Pizzeria is a small family-owned chain of three units, no two of which are less than 560 miles apart. It's over two thousand miles to the next McCain's from Mandeville.
The local shop is in what was until Katrina the first location of Juniper. The downstairs part of the rebuilt restaurant surrenders to the elements, with only a few tables and walls designed to admit a flood from the lake (a block away) with no serious damage.
The kitchen and the main dining spaces are upstairs. Mary Ann's interest was in the tables on the open patio up there. It was a little too cold for eating outside--winter is dying hard this year. But we did it anyway. MA loves Al Fresco.
Mary Ann has been complaining about the loss of RocketFire Pizza, which had become our default. The new RocketFire is doing fine in Metairie next to Dorignac's, but the Covington original was too big and scenic to support a pizzeria, even that very good one. We are scouting around for a new pizza operator. (We still go to Pizza Man in Covington a lot, but the pizzas there are so offbeat that we wind up arguing about styles.)
[caption id="attachment_41913" align="alignnone" width="480"]
One with everything.[/caption]
McClain's will not fill this position for us. The two pizzas we ordered--one with everything*, one with almost nothing--are rustic, the medium-thick crusts taking a pleasant char around the edges. But the sauces and toppings not much better than routine. The salads are similarly just okay. Mary Leigh wanted a meatball sandwich, and in the process of digging into that we found the best thing here: the bread.
*The logo depicts a smiling guru. Hence, when ordering pizza the request "make me one with everything" seems appropriate.
McClain's Pizzeria. Mandeville: 115 Girod St. 985-778-0955.
[divider type=""]Thursday, April 3, 2014. Krasna's Home-Cooked Croatian Masterpiece.
Krasna Vojkovich is the unassuming, low-key queen of the long-running Crescent City Steak House, founded by her late husband Mr. Johnny in 1934. They were a classic Croatian couple, she much younger than he, a matter she talks about every time we have a conversation. I know I will see her on Mardi Gras, when she bangs out a few Croatian goodies for me and the people who wind up at my table in the crowded Mardi Gras afternoon. This year, she brought us something new. Her cabbage roll is made with sauteed ground beef, tomatoes, and cabbage, all wrapped up in a large collard leaf. This was so spectacular that I wrote and talked about it a good bit. Two weeks ago, she asked if I'd like to have that again. Certainly, I said, and we made a date for today--no particular time, no particular menu. I got tangled up at the radio station after the show, and didn't arrive until around five-thirty. Krasna had left for the day, but she left a big plate of the cabbage rolls for me. I arrived with the idea that I'd have an appetizer of the cabbage roll. How can you go to the Crescent City and not get a steak? For most of its history, the Crescent City offered nothing but steaks. And people all around me were having their sizzling plates of Prime, dry-aged beef brought to them, the aromas wafting my way. [caption id="attachment_41915" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Krasna Vojkovich's cabbage and collard roll.[/caption]
But I'm glad things worked out this way. The cabbage roll, in its home-style simplicity, was a better dish than any steak could have been. The ingredients merged together in a marvelous harmony, the likes of which I rarely encounter. I gorged myself on the dish and cleaned the plate.
I'd say they ought to add this to the menu, but I know what would happen. First, it probably wouldn't sell, because the dish has no glamor or sex appeal. All the allure is in the flavor. Second, something like this has to be cooked in big batches for a long time, and such dishes do better in home kitchens than in restaurants. In the latter, you don't know how long the food will sit around before someone orders it.
This is the kind of cooking which, in these ingredient-intensive times, is being lost. You don't need dry-aged beef to make it. What matter where the cabbage came from? The idea of organic collards is laughable. The brilliant young chefs wouldn't know how to start making such a thing. And people are eating more meals in restaurants than at home.
Crescent City Steak House. Mid-City: 1001 N Broad. 504-821-3271.
