In a week I have been to two places that exemplify the “new” way of dining that has come about certainly since COVID, but accelerated in the last couple of years. Maybe this transition has been brewing longer and I didn’t notice it, but it is really apparent now. I have often said that Tom would be heartbroken if he knew what was happening “out there” in dining, and it becomes ever more true with each passing day. He was a first-class dining adherent: white tablecloths, multiple courses, wine, a leisurely pace over several hours, etc. He was aware of the increasingly casual nature of dining, but I don’t think he would understand today’s dining world at all.
While there are certainly enough restaurants to accommodate all needs, (as evidenced by common questions now that were never heard before, like “Any allergies?”) trends (another thing he hated) are encouraging of social dining, i.e., groups of people who enjoy rounds of cocktails and shareable plates. In other words, eating is no longer the priority.
I actually prefer this smaller plate thing. I often got a few apps instead of an entree when Tom had all his big courses. But I have been to two places in a week where it is all shareables and not what I call a “real” menu. I remember when Meril arrived on the scene with their peculiar menu of spots of things with a few items in each section. That was the beginning of what we have today: a hodgepodge of disconnected items whose sole commonality is that they are “snacky.”
There are certainly plenty of old school restaurants around with full traditional menus, but the trend seems to be moving to this cocktail and snacky shareables thing. To wit: I’ve had croquettes twice in the last week. Both were very good but what are the chances?
Last night I went to Maria’s Oyster and Wine Bar. It was in the space that was formerly Tommy’s Bar back in the day when things were “normal.” The space has changed hands twice, once to the Creole Cuisine group, and now to the group that owns the other shareables place a block away called Plates.
There were a few entrees at the bottom of the page as sort of an afterthought, so I stuck with the small portions, just called “Savory” here.
I got a bowl of seafood gumbo, pimiento cheese croquettes, and an oxtail empanada, or hand pie. (Some versions of all three of these items turn up seemingly everywhere now, but they have different names depending on their location.) When I order at places like this now it is usually by process of elimination, because I don’t really want anything on the menu. A few weeks ago I wondered why I was always getting hamburgers. My love for burgers is well-known, so it’s not a real lift, but I finally realized I got a burger because I didn’t want a head trip or emotional exercise. I just wanted to eat.
What I had a Maria’s was very good but I don’t need to go back to have it. I’m not this customer anyway. But I think the reason that restaurants are now part of a revolving door is that it’s all so transient. All of these things are curiosities that a person cannot attach themselves to. I’m finding it fascinating to watch.
But back to the food: I had some gumbo, more croquettes, and another empanada. The gumbo was good. Fine. It was a seafood version in a lighter broth than I’m used to, with lots of okra, (never a bad thing,) and plenty of perfectly-sized shrimp. There was a little oyster with its edges curled that was a nice touch.
The croquettes were smallish and breaded just so, fried and crispy on the outside. Inside the cheese had melted, so that Suppli al Telefono ensued when I bit into it. (This phenomenon always tickled Tom. It translates to telephone wires because when you bite into it the cheese stretches out like telephone wires.)
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What was more interesting about this dish was the tasso marmalade. Huh? Bits of tasso were tossed in a sweet sauce that pooled underneath these croquettes. This sweet heat thing was a nice contrast to the creamy sharp cheese inside. Rich and very good.
We have been talking about oxtails on The Food Show recently. I have suggested that oxtails are slowly moving up the food ladder like short ribs did about twenty years ago. I remember when short ribs were a cheap trash meat. Then seemingly overnight (though I’m sure it was much more gradual,) short ribs became an expensive delicacy. Oxtails, (which I knew only from Tom using them to make his onion soup broth,) are now turning up on menus.
Oxtails are divine when braised, and I’m glad to see them getting their due. Lately I have seen them as a pizza, part of a ragu, and now here in this hand pie. It was a large thing, with a thickish crust, filled with shreds of delicious oxtail. The crust was perfectly crumbly and flaky and contrasted nicely with the inside meaty debris. It was served with a fermented chili and mango chow that was spicy, creamy, and light all at the same time.
All three of these things were tasty. One was traditional and the other two hip and creative. I sat alone at a table by the window, watching prospective diners pass by with their conventioneer badges hanging as they perused the menu. Of the four parties who did this, one party of two entered. After speaking to the hostess, they left. It was an anecdotal visual of exactly how I feel. And I’m endlessly intrigued by it all.
