Thursday, December 20, 2012.
Huckleberry's.
I was hoping for a low-key meal tonight, what with the three-hour lunch at Galatoire's yesterday, the End Of The World Dinner tomorrow, and the Eat Club Gala Saturday. There was a time when I saw no need to limit such indulgences. Now it's beginning to wear me out at times, regardless of the excellence of the repasts.
Mary Ann called at the end of the radio show, with an idea that fit my mood perfectly. Huckleberry's is seemingly little neighborhood café in the Harahan Panhandle. It's bigger than it looks, with a surprisingly large bar hidden across a hallway from the dining room, and a private room that looks to seat forty or so next to that.
The proprietor is Henri Guste. If he had followed in his father's footsteps, he would be among the sixth generation descendants of Antoine Alciatore, working at the oldest restaurant in New Orleans. His dad is Bernard Guste, who was the second of three members of the fifth generation to ascend to the ceremonial "proprietor" designation, back in the 1990s.
But apparently Henri felt some stirrings to get into the restaurant business. So he opened Huckleberry's, a restaurant with so few references to his family's famous old eatery that only someone steeped in Antoine's lore would notice. There's a vague Rockefeller connection in one dish (not made with oysters), and the roast beef is described as having a marchand de vin sauce.
We began with seafood gumbo, nice and spicy, made on the lighter side that I prefer. Then a trio of grilled oysters in the style of Drago's. This is something new for Huckleberry's, and they came out good, with a touch more pepper than typical.
Mary Ann was intrigued by the roast beef. Not because it was made with marchand de vin sauce, but because it was shredded into a near-debris, and served with polenta. So, updated grillades and grits. I didn't much care for the dish (she loved it), but I could see how that beef would make a very good poor boy.
MA said she'd get that if I'd get the seafood platter. That's a dish she doesn't order anymore, but she's happy to help eating it if I do. I'm a better mate than she credits me for being, and I went along with the plan. I asked for and received the Buffalo style of fried oysters--with the buttery hot sauce coating. Those were good but had a problem: they came out tepid. Are they not frying these things to order? The shrimp were better, and the catfish best of all.
The dinner wrapped up with a very good bread pudding and a visit to the kitchen, the bar, and a private dining room where a dozen or so people were feasting. Looks like Huckleberry's is rolling right along. It's about six months old, and while they still seem to be figuring things out, I like the trajectory.
HuckleBerry's. Harahan: 1821 Hickory Ave.. 504-305-6066.
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