Thursday, January 24, 2013.
La Provence Is Brilliant.
The final score: Compulsion 2, Paranoia 1. Mary Ann has overcome all the mental obstacles keeping her from deciding whether to visit Jude in Los Angeles this week. If she didn't do it now she'd do it soon, I kept telling her. So she may as well go.
And she went.
I went into town, for the sole purpose of going to a restaurant worthy of being reviewed. I couldn't decide on one. Which is why I wound up at La Provence, which I really should have reserved for a night when I'm on the North Shore all day. I guess this means I'm not entirely a slave to my work.
The best reason to go to La Provence in January is to enjoy the blazing wood fireplace. It's one of many unique properties loved by the French-Creole restaurant's regulars. I am not a regular, because I'm the only person in my house who really likes La Provence. I would like to go there more often. Back in the days when I taught an ethics class in Mandeville to a group of high school seniors on Sunday nights, I often went there afterwards. But that was when Chris Kerageorgiou was still with us.
Tonight the fireplace was not burning. Good reason: it was seventy degrees outside. This is the warmest January I can remember. We still haven't had a single night cold enough to require moving plants inside.
The dinner I had here tonight was five-star in every particular. It started with my eating far too much of the chicken-liver (duck live when it's available) paté. That alone had me eating a half-loaf of French bread. The first revenue course was a stew of oysters and sunchokes. The latter are also known as Jerusalem artichokes, and aren't artichokes at all, but the roots of a plant related to sunflowers. They're good, though, and what Chef Erik Loos did with them was just as I said to the server: "This is as good as it gets." No hyperbole there. Wonderful.
Then came the salad from the market menu--the $28.50 three-courser they let you steal any night you're there. A little hard to eat. Some greens, when chopped, will not be picked up by a fork, whether you stab at them or try to scoop them. (Somebody ought to invent a special fork for this, the wines wide where they meet the handle, and tapering dramatically on the forward edge.)
The main act went right back up to the level of the oyster stew, and was even more complex in a delightful way. Two smallish lengths of lemonfish from the tail end were nevertheless tender, flavorful and ample. The pile of food underneath them was even better. The base was a "risotto." When you see something in quotations on a menu, it means that the item in question is not really what it claims to be, usually because a non-classic ingredient is involved. In this case, the grain wasn't rice but farro, an ancient relative of wheat that never stopped being grown in Italy. It has lately become popular among chefs looking for offbeat things to cook.
The "risotto" was on the bottom. Scattered around in it were little wedges of sweet potatoes, celery root, and parsnips. Well, for goodness sake. For a few years, my Thanksgiving menu featured these same three root vegetables in a gratin. What are the chances?
There was already a lot of flavor going on. The chef added a final dimension with sun-dried cherries and Creole mustard, adding a tartness and an occasional burst of sweetness. The sauce holding the heat underneath the fish had a creamy quality. This was just a great dish. The kind of thing you'd expect in the very best restaurants.
Of course, La Provence has, at various times, been a very great restaurant, with many years spent in my five-star category. Further evidence: it took three paragraphs to describe this wonderful plate of seafood.
The dessert fit right in with the rest of this superlative dinner. A half-dozen beignets made with sweet potatoes in the batter, and caramel ice cream on the side. All of this was wonderful, and there was enough here for a table of four. I could only eat half, as good as they were.
I learned the next day that John Besh's other six local restaurants are so involved in Super Bowl events that they will shut down La Provence for over a week, and use its kitchen to prep for all the big parties. The good news for me is that they will return to normal on February 6. My birthday. Now all I have to do is talk the Marys into it.
La Provence. Lacombe: 25020 US 190. 985-626-7662.
