Wednesday, April 6, 2016.
Ending Approaches. A Loose Night At Vincent's In Metairie.
A close member of our family is in his final days. I go to the hospice to visit him, even though he's not responding to voice or touch. I don't have anything further to say right now, except that I already miss his jokes.
The visit brings me close to the Village Inn, a restaurant that has been on my to-visit list for a long time. But when I get there, I find I have no appetite so soon after the hospice visit. I drive almost aimlessly through Harahan and Elmwood, finally getting on Clearview and heading in the general direction of the Causeway. At the intersection of West Esplanade and Clearview, I turn west, away from the bridge. I come to Vincent's, which for the first time in ten or fifteen tries, there are actually a couple of open parking spaces.
The restaurant, however, is close to being full. Both Vincent Catalanottos are in active duty. My contemporary Vincent opened the restaurant at almost exactly the same time I began my current radio show, twenty-eight years ago. His son Vincent has been active in the business for about ten years now, and pretty much runs things, because he's a little more conventional than his dad. Vincent, Senior is something of a character, which is what all his fans like about him. Although tonight he asked me to stop saying that people should ask him to tell a joke. Then he tells me two good ones, neither of which I'd feel comfortable about relaying here.
I have barely seated myself when a bowl of crawfish bisque appears. Improbably, Vincent makes the best crawfish bisque in town. He does so in the wee hours of the morning, when he is most active. There's too much rice in the bisque, but not by enough to mess up the flavors. There is a single stuffed head in the bowl, too. I believe I have made my opinions of stuffed crawfish heads enough times that I don't have to repeat them.
[caption id="attachment_51218" align="alignnone" width="480"]
The Rose Of Sicily.[/caption]
Then comes The Rose Of Sicily. It's a sprouting part of a very young artichoke, sizzled with olive oil, garlic, herbs, capers, and a few other things. It is the best dish the Catalanotto boys have ever created.
After a pair of tomato bruschetta, I have a salad with the house's well-appreciated blue cheese vinaigrette dressing. Then I am told by a regular customer that the pork loin stuffed with Italian sausage, cheese, and the usual herbs is spectacular. Vincent Senior--who suggests that it's his idea--puts in an order of that for me. But then he remembers that I have a special appreciation for the soft shell crab with the tomato-garlic sauce.
[caption id="attachment_51217" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Soft-shell crab with tomato garlic sauce.[/caption]
Vincent has a story about that crab. "When the owners of this restaurant shut it down, I was the manager and waiter. I made a deal with the landlord to take over the space. The soft-shell crab with the tomato-garlic was the first thing I tried to cook. It convinced me that I could cook just as well as all the chefs who yelled at me all those years."
While waiting for my double entree, I talk with the guy who told me to try the pork loin. He introduced himself as Dr. Songy. Something clicked in the back of my brain. "Are you related to the Mrs. Songy who used to run the school cafeteria at Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Kenner?"
"What?" he asked, wheeling around and pointing his finger at me. "How could you
possibly know that? That was my mother!"
It's because I went to school at OLPH from third through fifth grades, I told him. I remember that Mrs. Songy made sure I at least tried everything her cafeteria served. I also remember that she made a mysterious dish called shepherd's pie, a dish I surely rejected until I had a bite. I still remember her version, and I still make it more or less her way.
"She was from England," said Dr. Songy. That would explain the shepherd's pie. It's a classic staple of British home cooking.
I have two more observations. 1: Vincent's is just about the only restaurant in the New Orleans area that ever serves shepherd's pie. It runs as a lunch special now and then. I told Vincent many years ago that he should call me any time the dish is on the card.
And B: The explanation for all these coincidences is surely The New Orleans Incest Theory. It states that only 500 people live in the New Orleans area. People rotate from role to role more rapidly here than in any place of comparable population.
Vincent's new stuffed pork tenderloin is excellent, and so is the soft shell crab. I have a wedge of spumone from Angelo Brocato's for dessert. They also bring me Vincent's limoncello, a mildly alcoholic, lemon-flavored ice, made for Vincent's exclusively by Brocato's.
Vincent Sr. has been a pal of mine since that month in 1977 when I pretended to be a waiter at Romanoff's, and he was doing it for real. That friendship is much stronger than the restaurateur/critic connection. He picks up the check, and I let him. I tip one of the waiters well, but I neglect to give recompense to the other waiter on my table. Damn! I'll have to find another parking space so I can come back and take care of that.
This kind of meal is going to make me fat again. At least I was able to limit the alcohol to one glass of wine.
Vincent's. Metairie: 4411 Chastant St. 504-885-2984.
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Thursday, April 7, 2016.
French Quarter Festival Opens.
Gosh, it seems like almost two months since we were supposed to stop celebrating the pleasures of the flesh after Mardi Gras. And already, here come the other, more comfortable mega-festivals. The French Quarter Festival has become the definitive local food and music festival. Its formula influences all the others. Free admission to all the dozens of music venues. Not many of the bands are well known, making the crowds around the stages easy to penetrate. But they're all well worth listening to.
You pay as you go for your food and drink. Almost all the FQF food comes from restaurants. That makes it different from and better than the food at the Jazz Festival, whose vendors are mostly catering and specialty creators, some of which show up only rarely outside Jazzfest. The New Orleans Wine and Food Festival serves a lot of excellent food, much of it at the gourmet level. But at those prices, it had better. At Mardi Gras, of course, there's very little food worth eating.
The day is perfect for the French Quarter Festival this year. Blue skies, temperature in the high seventies, no puddles left over from the rains of a week ago.
Thursday is the slackest day for the four-day event. But it seems to me that today is as busy as Fridays were in the past. This means that tomorrow will be like a typical FQF Saturday. And Saturday will be like Sunday. Which is already cram-packed.
As I have done for twenty-something years, I am broadcasting my show from Jackson Square. It's always fun. The chefs on hand are happy, because with a weekend of good weather forecast, they will make more than a few bucks. The people milling about are a blend of local people with the kind of visitors who love New Orleans and visit frequently. A lot of them step up to our booth to shake my hand and report on their discoveries. I yank as many of them as will take the bait to sit down, talk on the air for a few minutes, and help themselves to the samples the chefs always bring over.
The first real chef visitor today is Paul Miller, who has been managing the kitchen at K-Paul's for a long time. Chef Paul Prudhomme--who has left us since last year--was one of the original participants in the French Quarter Festival. K-Paul's food offering has devolved into two terrific items: chicken grillades and grits and "butterbeans that make you crazy." Which indeed they do. Both of these dishes are very homely, but pack a serious flavor with the first forkful. It's one of my must-try items here.
On his way out, I asked Chef Paul (the current one) whether we could hold an Eat Club dinner at K-Paul's. It would be a first. He seemed genuinely interested. I'll bet that dinner sells out quickly.
The most interesting new vendor is an outfit called "Dirty Dishes." The owner also has a café at the St. Roch Market, a perfect match with the French Quarter Festival. Her specialty is "dirty mac 'n' cheese. The dirt aspect is supplied by some ground meat, cheese and seasonings.
[caption id="attachment_51219" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Galatoire's fried sweet potato and pecan pie.[/caption]
But the most interesting item I tasted all day was a fried turnover, with a glazed sweet potato and pecan filling. My first thought: this looks like a Hubig's pie. But tastes lots better. I am told that this is not something that can be ordered at Galatoire's, but they do serve it when they're in a grazing situation like the French Quarter Festival. I think they could serve it in the main dining room, though. That's how good it is.
I miss a lot of the best food, even though I'm on the air for three hours. I will have another shot at it all on Saturday, when I return for a ninety-minute reprise. (Of course, half my show will be pre-empted by a basketball game.)
A number of people show me that they have printed out my guide to the festival's food. That data can be had
,u>here:
The Rose Of Sicily.[/caption]
Then comes The Rose Of Sicily. It's a sprouting part of a very young artichoke, sizzled with olive oil, garlic, herbs, capers, and a few other things. It is the best dish the Catalanotto boys have ever created.
After a pair of tomato bruschetta, I have a salad with the house's well-appreciated blue cheese vinaigrette dressing. Then I am told by a regular customer that the pork loin stuffed with Italian sausage, cheese, and the usual herbs is spectacular. Vincent Senior--who suggests that it's his idea--puts in an order of that for me. But then he remembers that I have a special appreciation for the soft shell crab with the tomato-garlic sauce.
[caption id="attachment_51217" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Soft-shell crab with tomato garlic sauce.[/caption]
Vincent has a story about that crab. "When the owners of this restaurant shut it down, I was the manager and waiter. I made a deal with the landlord to take over the space. The soft-shell crab with the tomato-garlic was the first thing I tried to cook. It convinced me that I could cook just as well as all the chefs who yelled at me all those years."
While waiting for my double entree, I talk with the guy who told me to try the pork loin. He introduced himself as Dr. Songy. Something clicked in the back of my brain. "Are you related to the Mrs. Songy who used to run the school cafeteria at Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Kenner?"
"What?" he asked, wheeling around and pointing his finger at me. "How could you possibly know that? That was my mother!"
It's because I went to school at OLPH from third through fifth grades, I told him. I remember that Mrs. Songy made sure I at least tried everything her cafeteria served. I also remember that she made a mysterious dish called shepherd's pie, a dish I surely rejected until I had a bite. I still remember her version, and I still make it more or less her way.
"She was from England," said Dr. Songy. That would explain the shepherd's pie. It's a classic staple of British home cooking.
I have two more observations. 1: Vincent's is just about the only restaurant in the New Orleans area that ever serves shepherd's pie. It runs as a lunch special now and then. I told Vincent many years ago that he should call me any time the dish is on the card.
And B: The explanation for all these coincidences is surely The New Orleans Incest Theory. It states that only 500 people live in the New Orleans area. People rotate from role to role more rapidly here than in any place of comparable population.
Vincent's new stuffed pork tenderloin is excellent, and so is the soft shell crab. I have a wedge of spumone from Angelo Brocato's for dessert. They also bring me Vincent's limoncello, a mildly alcoholic, lemon-flavored ice, made for Vincent's exclusively by Brocato's.
Vincent Sr. has been a pal of mine since that month in 1977 when I pretended to be a waiter at Romanoff's, and he was doing it for real. That friendship is much stronger than the restaurateur/critic connection. He picks up the check, and I let him. I tip one of the waiters well, but I neglect to give recompense to the other waiter on my table. Damn! I'll have to find another parking space so I can come back and take care of that.
This kind of meal is going to make me fat again. At least I was able to limit the alcohol to one glass of wine.
Galatoire's fried sweet potato and pecan pie.[/caption]
But the most interesting item I tasted all day was a fried turnover, with a glazed sweet potato and pecan filling. My first thought: this looks like a Hubig's pie. But tastes lots better. I am told that this is not something that can be ordered at Galatoire's, but they do serve it when they're in a grazing situation like the French Quarter Festival. I think they could serve it in the main dining room, though. That's how good it is.
I miss a lot of the best food, even though I'm on the air for three hours. I will have another shot at it all on Saturday, when I return for a ninety-minute reprise. (Of course, half my show will be pre-empted by a basketball game.)
A number of people show me that they have printed out my guide to the festival's food. That data can be had ,u>here:
