We advertise Tony Mandina’s each day on the radio, and the commercial works on us too. We get a lot of questions about “that place on the Westbank.” One caller mentioned that “that place on the Westbank” really is a little gem. We agree. I went for lunch recently and brought Tom back last Friday night for dinner.
We arrived before dark and were greeted by a parking lot attendant who couldn’t have been nicer, helping us find a place to park. Inside the place looks lovely. A little sprucing up over the recent lockdown revealed a place that is by far the nicest Westbank restaurant, and one in a league with the nicest across the river. It’s a comfortable place with a touch of glamour, with a feeling of warmth that makes it truly comfortable, even for a first visit.
The place is huge, with several spacious dining rooms allowing for a lot of socially-distant diners. Kolette Mandina and her daughter Ashley bought the place from her dad, the restaurant’s namesake. Tony and his wife Grace still come every night to greet their customers, just as they have for 37 years. They sit at the first table with Kolette’s husband Joey, and they set a mood for a jovial evening where everyone feels that they are family too. This camaraderie is advanced further by the most adorable waitstaff I have ever encountered. A fleet of young and eager servers attend to your every need. Kolette is like the mother hen.
The restaurant serves Parker House rolls made in house every day. They are fluffy, light, golden brown and addictive. A tiny plume of smoke escapes when you pull them apart, and butter melts instantly. You will want more, but try to resist. There are plenty of carbs to come.
Tom had a glass of the house red Nero d’Avola, made exclusively from Nero d’Avola grapes, which comes from the Mandina villa in Salaparuta, Sicily just outside Palermo. It is sold exclusively at the restaurant.
Kolette makes about four trips to Sicily each year to hang with the cousins and to oversee the distribution of the wine here and the olive oil. Both are used at the restaurant. The wine is a deep red with a big flavor, going down very easy.
Tom got the turtle soup, which is renowned for having real turtle, and for being a perfect example of this familiar New Orleans favorite. I got the Italian salad, which I could have eaten as a meal. It was delicious. Unlike the typical New Orleans Italian salad there was only a bit of salami. But it didn’t need any more. The dressing was so tangy delicious and there was so much cheese, olive and artichoke flavor, I could have had another one of these and quit very satisfied. We followed with a second course of Oysters Florentine, a serving plate full of plump, crispy and golden brown oysters topped with creamed spinach. What’s not to love about this?
Kolette wanted us to try the soup du jour, which was creamy artichoke and the seafood gumbo. These little demi portions were a great little interlude between courses.
When it was entree time, I really wanted to have some more of the Dominic Jude, a spectacularly delicious dish named for Kolette’s nephew. It’s fried eggplant, which I usually never eat, served over thin fettuccine topped with a cream sauce plentifully studded with crabmeat. Tom had his heart set on lasagna, which I had raved about all week, so he got that. No one got the Dominic Jude (too bad) because I got bruccialone.
Since high school when we had it every Friday in Lent, I have firmly believed that hard boiled eggs had no place in an Italian red sauce dish. I have never tried the famous cliche New Orleans Sicilain dish. Tonight was the night. Kolette was the only one I would trust with this adventure.
I ordered the bruccialone with aglio olio, ignoring the waiter’s suggestion to go with the cream sauce. I declined his entreaties with the explanation that I must get aglio olio any time I see it in the menu. This was a decision I regretted. I have had the cream sauce here, and I love it, but the aglio olio did not impress. There were tiny diced vegetables in the angel hair, and not enough parmesan flavor. This was a disappointment because there can never be too much parmesan with pasta, especially with only a light olive oil coating.
The bruccialone was the perfect size. It was tender and well-seasoned. But I stick with my original thought formulated in high school. Why in the world would anyone stuff hard boiled eggs into beef and roll it?
Tom’s lasagna was everything he wanted. Loaded with Tony Mandina’s famous Red Gravy (sold in stores all over town) this strata had the perfect proportions of cheese, meat, red sauce and thick lasagna noodles. If anyone eats an entire portion of this I’d like to see it. The deep dish was packed in and it was a lot to eat. Rich and delicious, eating only half of it gives you something to look forward to - another meal of the other half.
