Saturday, November 10, 2012.
Oil And Vinegar. Massive Supper At DiCristina's.
People have joked that we should start pools to predict the dates when certain highly-mobile chefs leave their present restaurants. Because such a thing is inherently negative I've refrained from sponsoring such a bet. But I must say I thought about it when Mike's On The Avenue reopened in its original location two and a half years ago.
Both Vicky Bayley and Chef Mike Fennelly, who have worked together on a number of restaurant projects over the years, seem to enjoy creating and opening restaurants a lot more than they do running them. In addition to the two Mike's adventures, Vicky opened Artesia (John Besh's first high-profile chef gig), 7 On Fulton, a Hawaiian theme place on Lee Circle whose name I've forgotten (that's how briefly it was open), the Lakehouse, and (it seems to me) a couple more.
Any bets against the permanence of Mike's this time would be winners. It came out that Mike's in the Lafayette Hotel will be taken over in January by the owners of Mr. John's Steakhouse. The name will be Desi's--for Desi Vega, one of the partners with Rodney "Smilie" Salvaggio and Paul Varisco. The trio opened a restaurant in New York a few months ago, so this isn't their first expansion. We are getting near a time when no restaurateur will be taken seriously unless he owns several eateries.
I have been wondering whether the growth of the restaurant community is reaching a plateau. After rising steadily from the Katrina numbers (809 before the storm, zero right after), we seem to have leveled off during 2012 at little over 1300. That happened despite a continuing (and perhaps increasing) pace of new openings. Lately, more restaurants have closed than had been typical since Katrina. That sounds bad, but isn't really. The restaurants that close are, for the most part, not especially good.
Mike's on the Avenue is an exception. I don't know why, but the place never really caught fire, despite terrific and original food. I wonder what Vicky and Mike's next restaurant will be.
A new shop called Oil and Vinegar opened this week in that big area of stores near the intersection of I-12 and LA 21, on the outskirts of Covington. They were looking for activities to mark their grand opening, and somehow thought having me sit there for a couple of hours autographing books would be something. Well, it's a little shop--perfect for a slight celebrity like me.
The name of the store--a franchise of a Netherlands-based string, but the first one in this area--almost perfectly describes the place. They dispense about fifty different kinds and flavors of vinegar, and just as many oils. You can buy these already bottled, or have them dispensed into a returnable bottle you buy, then have refilled when you run out. Also here are seasoning and herb blends, but not enough to make that line seem like a specialty.
Stores like this represent one of the rare points of growth in European business these days, and they're spreading to our shores. A competing store called Vom Fass is on Magazine Street.
Something about the idea turns people on, that's clear. The shop was full most of the time I was there. I sold ten books--more than I expected. I can't picture myself patronizing the place often; I make all this stuff myself, and have been doing so for a long time. It's easy enough. It's probably because I am neither a) female nor 2) someone who enjoys shopping.
Near the end of my visit, Gerry Hansen showed up. He hadn't planned on buying a book, but was compelled to do so when I pointed out the first line of a page I knew he'd be interested in: "In all of New Orleans, it would have been hard to find two more beloved people than Mary and Ernest Hansen." Gerry's parents were the founders of Hansen's Sno-Bliz, which they operated for over sixty years. Gerry's daughter runs it now.
The Marys were up for supper, and Mary Ann specifically requested a visit to DiCristina's. She liked it with a greed last time. Mary Leigh--under the influence of her Tulane roommate, whose family lives in Chalmette--has taken a liking to the food at Rocky and Carlo's. DiCristina's has some family connection with Rocky's, and the food (but not the place) bears a resemblance too.
The major impression DiCristina's makes concerns the size of its portions, well within the obscene range. Eat an appetizer and you're stuffed. But by the time you realize that, here comes the big platter of pasta with several mammoth meatballs or a whale-size soft-shell crab. It would be gross were it not good. But it is.
Mary Ann needed a reprise of the appetizer she had last time: a plate of fried artichoke hearts, served not with the standard red sauce but with the crawfish cream sauce that flows through a number of dishes here. They fry a lot of food here, but they do so with skill, and to order. The artichokes are good enough not to need the sauce, and plentiful enough for a table of four. Let's not even discuss the mile-high pile of thin onion rings, which we escaped from this time.
MA stayed with the fried theme by having fried chicken--but just the breast quarter, not the half. Mary Leigh packed away--with no apologies to her unnecessary diet program--a wedge salad, then about a third of the boulder of macaroni and cheese. This is Rocky's mac-and-cheese, down to the long, narrow tubes of pasta.
My assignment was to severely damage an order of braciolone. Last time I had that here--years ago--it was half of a lunch special with a brick of lasagna. (The overfeed is nothing new.) The radius of the beef-wrapped tubes of boiled eggs and stuffings was, I believe, the largest I've ever seen. That's the only extreme I can offer. This was not an especially great braciolone, although it was the first thing I've had here that disappointed.
DiCristina's may hold the local record for the number of desserts on its menu. It's at least twenty. How does one find room. I tried something called a cream cheese pudding, thinking that it might be small. Guess again. Huge dish, topped with a cloud of whipped cream as big as my head.
They certainly know they're customers' weaknesses.
DiCristina's. Covington: 810 N Columbia. 985-875-0160.
