Saturday, October 30. Nuvolari's Takes A Fun Dip. A guy I know who owns a hardware store told me once that faucets are no longer manufactured to be repaired. When they wear out, you buy a new one. His words came to mind as I searched in vain for the parts I need to fix a dripping faucet in our master bathroom.
My last stop was Home Depot. They didn't have what I needed either. But I did run into Dan and Cathy Scott, who e-mailed me a couple of weeks ago inviting us to dinner. We couldn't make it last week, what with the kids at home and MA wanting to make the most of that. But we had nothing planned for tonight, and they had a reservation booked at Nuvolari's.
We had to show up late. My WWL show was moved to the unusual time of three till six, allowing Bobby Hebert and Deke Bellavia to do a sports remote at Rouse's. My place in the programming pecking order at the radio station is not second or third, but last. Only if there's absolutely nothing else with a need to get on the air do I appear.
Today and yesterday, I asked listeners to name which specific elements of food, service, and environment would qualities would be necessary to make The Perfect New Orleans Restaurant. It was hard to get people to focus on specifics. Most of them just wanted to ruminate about generally good food, a nice dining room, and other aspects that nobody would disagree with. I was hoping for comments like, "The Perfect New Orleans Restaurant would have an oyster bar."
The most often-mentioned concrete detail of Perfect was that it should have a view of the lake, the river, or a bayou. That does seem natural, considering how bodies of water define our city. So why do we have so few restaurants with water views? Here's the entire list:
- Galvez (the former Bella Luna)
- Landry's at the lake
- The Westin Canal Place hotel's mediocre restaurant
Restaurant Des Familles sort of has a view of a bayou, as does Ralph's on the Park--but you might not notice if you didn't look hard. Other than those, you have to cross the lake to find water views. But The Perfect New Orleans Restaurants probably ought to be in New Orleans proper, right?
We met the Scotts at the bar at Nuvolari's. We remained there long enough for the men to have two rounds, and to shoot the breeze with Wally Simmons, the managing partner. What happened to Thomas Smith, their chef of the last six years? He left in the spring, to be replaced by his second in command. Wally said only that it was time for Smith to move on to a new venue, without specifying whose idea that was. I thought Smith was a terrific chef, succeeding not only in bringing the cooking at Nuvolari's to its highest point in its twenty-five year history, but doing so while making a deep change in the style of the menu.
The new guy has not yet made his mark on the menu. I began with a dish that has been unchanged since the original menu here. Snails and tails (also known as slugs and bugs) are escargots and crawfish in a spicy, garlicky demi-glace. Always was a a great dish, and still is. Mary Ann caused a traylike dish of broiled shrimp to appear. A mound of shrimp was under the shrimp, and chunks of Brie melted on top of them. Enough were there for Dan and I to help with their destruction.
It was Dan's turn to buy dinner, but I brought along a wine from my stash. I found a 2002 Franciscan Zinfandel that I suspected would be great to drink now. Zins develop complex bouquet faster than any other wine I know, and this one had gone though that magical transformation.
The wine was the high point of the entree course. Everything else was a little to a lot less than I'm accustomed to finding here. I made up my own entree, combining the filet tips offered as an appetizer with a plate of spaghetti with cream sauce. This was pretty good, actually.
Mary Ann was much less well served. She likes salmon, but she likes it well-done and told them so in detail. It came out unarguably rare. A few minutes after she sent it back it returned very little changed. Sent it back again. Cooked a little more, the center was still translucent. MA, adamant in her demand for juicelessness, was not happy. It will be awhile before I get her back here again.
The Scotts were having a better time of it. They ordered what has been the signature dish of the last few years: grilled redfish atop dirty rice and green beans with crabmeat and a spicy, light brown sauce.
I haven't had Nuvolari's great white chocolate cheesecake in a long time. It would be a longer time: they were out of it. Instead, I got an unusual presentation of an square of tiramisu so large that we probably could have split it. A virtual fork decorated the plate.
Even with the problem in the main courses, we left happy. The Scotts are always fun, and Nuvolari's is an engaging place. I have my fingers crossed that the kitchen rebounds to its accustomed finesse.
Nuvolari’s. Mandeville: 246 Girod St. 985-626-5619.
