Friday, January 4, 2013.
The Next Stage At Delmonico.
I would like to dine more regularly in restaurants I love. I can't right now. I must keep tabs on the whole restaurant scene. Even though I know that's impossible--too many new restaurants, and too many changes in the old ones for me to dine often in familiar places.
One of which is Delmonico. I wouldn't mind having dinner there once or twice a week. Especially since Emeril's management team (how involved Emeril himself is in such questions is unknown) recently decided to back away from the trendy small-plates concept Delmonico has purveyed for the past few years.
Since Emeril took over the landmark in 1997, Delmonico has ranged from good to great. No matter what, however, it has been dogged by identity issues. Everybody knows that its primary business function is to catch the overflow from Emeril's flagship restaurant a few blocks away. So it not only must be at least a little hip, but hip in the same ways that Emeril's is.
But this is a 112-year-old restaurant in very well-restored antique setting. It cries out for references to the past. In between all the contemporary Creole-Cajun voodoo, Delmonico begs for a bit of Galatoire's-Antoine's-Arnaud's mojo.
That's the plan on the current menu. Chef Anthony Scanio says, "We want to bring some old dishes up to date, and give some new dishes an old-style flavor." That sounds like a great idea to me.
The chef sent an amuse-bouche to show what he had in mind. It was shrimp remoulade made into kind of a puck, with a few vegetables worked in--corn, celery, green onions, I think--and a very good, tangy white remoulade sauce. A little richer than is currently the vogue, but sharper than one would have found thirty years ago, too. Score a point.
Oysters Bienville has always been a specialty, not only of Delmonico's but most restaurants from its epoch. Anthony did this as a pan roast, allowing the sauce to be much looser, less bound with bread crumbs and roux than is typical. You could scoop up what was left of the sauce after the oysters were gone with a crust of bread. All the other Bienville elements were there: shrimp, mushrooms, cheese, bacon, and a half-dozen oysters. Score!
I picked an unlikely entree off the specials list. Braciolone. Although through most of its history Delmonico's was owned by the quite-Italian La Franca family, its menu never was Italian. But braciolone is as Creole as it is Italian, a massive version of braciole. The chef rushed out to say he was very glad I ordered this, because it was just the direction in which he was taking the menu.
This was not a classic braciolone. It was much too big to cook thoroughly without falling apart--which it did. The pieces fell into the spaghetti hidden under all the other ingredients. But the sugo was delicious, the veal tender, and the flickers of ham flavor made it convincing. Very, very filling. Third point.
The dessert was strange, a variation on bread pudding served in a thin pie slice, with a delicate version of funnel cake (think beignets made into strings) around it. Not bad, but puzzling.
I keep telling them, and will again: espresso, made here with a choice of coffees from an excellent Italian roaster, is brewed much too dilute. It should not fill the cup, as it does.
Throughout the evening, a very good pianist and blues singer by the name of Ronald Jones growled (an apt description of his vocal style, and I mean that as a compliment to its uniqueness) through a highly varied repertoire of music. He was so listenable that, after settling the check, I moved to a table next to his piano for some more too-weak espresso and tunes. It wasn't long before he played a song I liked, forcing me to sing along sotto voce. The next thing, Jones had me doing a couple of solos with him. This is the kind of guy I love to find in the bar of a restaurant just like this. Another reason I'd like to be able to eat at Delmonico more than I do.
Delmonico. Lee Circle/Lower Garden District: 1300 St Charles Ave. 504-525-4937.
