Lately I have found myself on the West Bank not as a joyride but because I‘ve had business there. My nephew practices dentistry there, and two weeks ago I had an appointment. It was an opportunity to visit a place I have thought about and wanted to try for many years, since I first heard about the restaurant on Tom’s show. Cafe 615 Da Wabbit stays tucked away on Kerlerec Street in Gretna. Despite that, this little neighborhood joint (and it is much nicer than that) stays very busy.
The first visit was take out. I stood at the bar, which is always full, and ordered with mild assistance from one of the bartenders. More assistance was needed because this menu is large and varied. From the bar I was able to observe that the very large waitstaff remains really busy. The food looked good, so it was easy to see why every table in this place stays full. With minimal input from one of the bartenders, I ordered a muffaletta and a club sandwich, as well as a hot sausage poor boy dressed.
I must always check out a club sandwich whenever I see it on a menu, so that was a given. I ordered one from the extensive menu, feeling almost guilty about ordering a club when there were so many other things to get. Tom is a sucker for a hot sausage poor boy whenever he sees one, so I got one for him. There was no time for the fried chicken, which is done in house: translation... 30 minute wait. I chose a muffaletta instead.
The muffaletta was large and very full. This makes the mark of a good muffaletta, and this was definitely that. Piled on a great seeded loaf were all the right ingredients, including a good mortadella. The olive salad was very chunky, which I prefer. This was a very good sandwich.
I was only mildly disappointed in the club sandwich, for no particular reason. The chosen cheese was American, which drops everything on the goodness meter for me. The bread here was white, properly toasted, with a very generous sampling of meat. And cheese. This came with a pile of very ordinary but not bad fries. Half the large order was comprised of these frozen but otherwise okay fries. On the large side, they had traces of skin around the edges, making them deceptively appealing. Then you are annoyed to have fallen for it.
The club was absolutely fine and recommended for a standard old-fashioned club. Newer versions have grainy wheat bread toasted and stacked double-decker. There is a lot of meat on this too, but most of it is in the middle. A little time was taken to spread it out a bit, in order to keep from separating the jaw when biting it. This was a good traditional club sandwich. Tom is always enamored of a hot sausage sandwich whenever he sees one. This thrilled him. It was everything a hot sausage poor boy should be.
On today’s visit I was determined to try the fried chicken we left behind when I was last here. The place was busy enough I felt we should order it all at the same time. Thirty minutes for fried chicken makes it a commitment. But first we got oysters en brochette and spinach artichoke dip. This came in a huge ramekin and was filled to the top, covered in an extra layer of jack cheese and surrounded by stridently ordinary chips. The dip itself was a pleasant surprise. It had a mild flavor with a nice kick, and it was properly chunky and had the right texture. It was thick enough to spoon it yourself but not too thick for the chips to hold up.They did, ordinary as they were.
Tom, meanwhile, had oysters en brochette. Galatoire’s these weren’t, but this little neighborhood place pleased. The oysters were smallish and fried just right with the bacon thick and a little spicy, The half dozen sat atop a bed of chopped iceberg and served with maybe the most delicious remoulade I’ve encountered. It had some definitely mild little chunks of flavorings and a great creamy consistency, along with a little kick as a finish.
For entrees Tom got a roast beef poor boy and I got the fried chicken I remembered from last time. It came served atop toast, the cliche easy way to let fried things drain. This is a little old-fashioned and I found it alarming. But the toast did its job and the chicken was exactly like one’s mother would have made in an iron skillet. It was crispy with a light but very crunchy crust. My overriding sentiment was that it needed salt. Otherwise it was really good. This half-chicken was served with two sides. I chose red beans and coleslaw. The red beans had an assertive flavor that overrode everything else. A few bites reminded me of a bay leaf flavor, which I discovered when making “perfect rice.” These beans were not too creamy and not too firm, hitting what I call the sweet spot. There were small pieces of sausage in this otherwise unremarkable version of the classic local favorite dish. The coleslaw was good but not great either. Mildly sweet with vegetables sliced really thin, (good) but also too long, (bad.)
Tom’s roast beef poor boy was in the Parkway style, with chunky debris-like roast beef. This had the perfect New Orleans classic roast beef flavor. Textbook. The chunky beef is unusual, but we liked it. The dressings and pickles made for a great sandwich. Even the bread seemed better than usual.
Having ordered this absurd amount of food made dessert unthinkable. This is a cute place with large canvas prints of New Orleans scenes on the walls, like the legendary LeRuth’s, a neighbor before its untimely demise in the Nineties. Service was good enough but not as good as one would expect with a swarm of servers and bussers speeding through the dining rooms.
