Thursday, June 6, 2013.
Potential On The Edge Of The Warehouse District.
The Marys left at midday for Florida, combining business with pleasure. Mary Ann has two appearances on television stations in Panama City and Jacksonville. In between, and for a week afterwards, they will go to Disney World (better them than me) and Miami Beach (ditto).
Another actor stepped into this orderly plan. Andrea, the first named tropical storm of the season (which began only five days ago), is heading to exact place where the Marys will be traveling. But MA--who takes a far less cautious approach than I do to all problems except the smallest ones--took the advice of the weatherman in Panama City. When she called to ask whether she'd even appear on the TV show, they laughed it off and told her not to worry about it. Indeed, it rained a lot harder here in New Orleans than it did over the Florida Panhandle.
After three grueling hours on the radio (kidding) and writing and recording a few commercials, I was off to dinner. I've tried to dine a few times before at Dijon, but failed for a variety of reasons. All of them boiled down to this: when I get the feeling that the restaurant isn't ready to be reviewed, I often leave it for another day, rather than collect negatives. That happened three times at Dijon, an adventuresome eatery with a nouvelle-Creole style.
It's always been clear that the owners are in earnest about operating a good establishment. Lots of special events, an interesting menu, and a very cool environment. (An old firehouse with a ceiling over twenty feet above.) Twice, the problem was that nobody else was in the restaurant but me. I take some of the blame: I dine right after the show in the six o'clock hour. (After talking about food for three hours, one is famished.) But this part of town dines later.
Today I was delayed by production work. A few tables had filled at Dijon, one with people I know. I ordered a glass of Waterbrook Riesling, which surprised me in being sweet--but I should have checked the label first.
The first food was oysters persillade--a variation on the Rockefeller idea, with parsley as the primary (and perhaps only) green stuff. Six nice, big oysters, leaving a problem chefs have worked against for decades: how to deal with the water the naturally exits the oyster during cooking, leaving a puddle behind. But a good dish.
Next, gnocchi tossed with tomatoes, andouille, eggplant "caviar" (what you get when you mine the center of the vegetable) and parmesan cheese. Excellent flavor, and it would have been even better without the gnocchi. The little potato dumplings were too small and not firm enough to keep body and soul together. This would have been improved by the presence of any other kind of pasta, or potatoes, or even rice.
The entree was speckled trout, cooked in a pan without any visible browning, set atop long green beans. Beans + Fish = Magic. What made me think of that was not only the truth of the formula, but the way the fish was arrayed on the plate, making a plus sign. (Or an X, but that would imply that it was bad, which it wasn't.) I'm not nuts about foams--I know that it's already on its way to nostalgia, and the visual disturbs--but the sauce involved worked.
Two desserts: one a trio of calas, the famous but nearly-extinct rice cakes from a century ago. I get these whenever I find them, to keep the authentic Creole sweet bread alive. This version came with ice cream. First time I've run into that good idea.
The chef thought I should also have the panna cotta with fresh berries, and I did.
Dijon (funny: I don't remember anything on the menu with mustard as an ingredient) has potential, but it's just enough out of the main traffic stream for that to be a problem. But six blocks or so east are Cochon, Annunciation, and all those other Warehouse District places. So, potential.
Dijon. Warehouse District & Center City: 1377 Annunciation St. 504-522-4712.
To browse through all of the Dining Diaries since 2008, go here.
