Diary 8|26|2014: Third Generation At Dick & Jenny's.

[title type="h5"]Tuesday, August 26, 2014. The Third Generation Of Dick & Jenny's. [/title] The weeks before and after Labor Day are the best for dining in restaurants for people who refuse to wait in line, or who dislike crowds. Dick & Jenny's has long been the kind of restaurant where one looks for respites from those conditions. At least until recently. A wildly successful phenom in the pre-Katrina years, after things settled down at Dick & Jenny's following the storm, so did the mob scene. One of the changes in that era was the departure of Dick and Jenny Benz, who left town (they're in Buffalo, I think; that's where Dick came from). [caption id="attachment_43649" align="alignnone" width="480"] Dick & Jenny's.[/caption] The management after that had been part of the restaurant from the beginning, and it was possible not to notice any changes at all. Still, people didn't call me about the place as often. You still had to wait for a table, but not as long. Earlier this year the people who own Martinique (as well as Christiano's in Houma) bought Dick & Jennie's. This time the rotation of staff and customers was felt more deeply. And that's where things are when I have dinner at the restaurant tonight. I didn't have to wait. In fact, I got the best table in the house in a room with only a few other tables seated. The attendance would grow through the evening. But it was decidedly a Tuesday in late August. [caption id="attachment_43650" align="alignnone" width="480"] Dick & Jennys Summer Salad[/caption] I ask the waiter for a couple of variations from the menu items and specials, all of which sound good. (My cook's instincts sometime make me wonder "what if?".) I start with the summer salad, which is well described: lots of tender greens (as opposed to the thick, crisp ones you get when it cools off) and small tomatoes (the big ones are about done for now). The chef, who somehow hears I am in the room, sends an amuse-bouche of a single big head-on shrimp, with a few puddles of a thick white sauce made pink with tomato. "The chef noticed that you have tomatoes in every course you ordered, so we thought you'd like this one too," says the waiter. He is correct. [caption id="attachment_43653" align="alignnone" width="480"] Dick and Jenny's pasta Alfredo variation.[/caption] The third course is half an order of one of the pasta dishes. It is hard to describe, being sort of a hybrid of Alfredo and pesto. The fresh basil is torn into large strips. Cubes of eggplant here, capers there, chunks of tomato all around. Very fresh and good, lighter than it sounds. [caption id="attachment_43654" align="alignnone" width="480"] Grilled wahoo with tomato corn sauce at Dick & Jenny's.[/caption] The fish of the day is wahoo. Sold! That's a terrific but seldom-encountered (in restaurants, anyway) Gulf fish that lends itself especially well to grilling. The sauce is predominantly made with tomato puree, with corn scattered throughout. One of my theories gets another proof: I think it's a bad idea to combine tomatoes and seafood, but sometimes it's good, and when it's good it's fantastically delicious. That is certainly true here. [caption id="attachment_43655" align="alignnone" width="480"] Bread pudding at Dick & Jenny's. [/caption] I wrap up with a small cube of bread pudding with a butter-creamy sauce underneath and blueberries on top. Rich, good, but I have eaten too much, so I'm not jumping up and down. Why did I eat a dinner like this when tomorrow I will face a fourteen-course repast at Square Root? I really love my food, is why. [title type="h5"]Dick & Jenny's. Uptown: 4501 Tchoupitoulas. 504-894-9880. [/title]