Tuesday, June 11, 2013.
Meeting Important Chefs. New And Better Eating Around UNO.
The Marys, after spending a couple of days in Disneyworld (surprise! they found it boring), are spending a few days on the beaches around Miami. They have not been to a single serious restaurant, subsisting on the breakfast buffet in the hotel, salads, and hamburgers. I miss them, but I'm glad I'm not there. The feeling is mutual.
Even though Mary Ann is away, she produced a great Round Table show for today. Dickie Brennan and his chef Ben Thibodeaux (top left) came in to talk about their new restaurant, Tableau. Dickie's restaurants are the most traditional of all the Brennan family's places (not counting the unallied Brennan's on Royal Street), and Tableau's menu seems to be the most retro of the bunch.
I asked whether this meant a return of the great Brennan dish chicken Pontalba, and he said it did. That's good news. Tableau is in the surplus space in the building where Le Petit Theatre du Vieux Carre--the oldest community theater in America--is located. The theater was in financial straits, and by leasing half the building to Dickie & Company, it will go on.
Two blocks from Tableaux is the sixty-three-year-old Johnny's Po-Boys, the oldest one-family-owned poor boy shop in the city. Denny DeGrusha (top right) is the son of the namesake Johnny. He's still involved in the business, but most of the day-to-day management comes from the third generation DeGrushas. If Denny isn't the mouthpiece of the operation, he ought to be. I like a guy who can wax poetic on the subject of poor boy sandwiches. Especially Johnny's versions, which I have been saying for more than a few years are the best around.
But these are people I already knew. We had two others who I've wanted to meet. Lincoln Owens (bottom left) has been the mystery force at MeMe's Bar & Grill in Chalmette, which I believe is the best eatery in the history of Da Parish. The food is at a level so far beyond what I expected that I knew there had to be a serious chef behind the scenes. Lincoln is that man. He is local, but well trained and experienced in the kitchen of Emeril's, among other vaunted restaurants. Youngish guy, but clearly one who has his moves down. He's articulate, too. Remember who told you about him first.
Vincent Manguno (bottom right) is another chef who made the difference in all his restaurant postings. He first came to my attention at the Creole Grill in Metairie, where he had the menu humming with spectacular, unpretentious food. Then he turned up at the little (and now extinct) Nuccio's in Harahan. There, he was frying chicken with such verve that our radio show reports about it had a lot of hungry people heading that way.
Vincent's next move was to the new Porter and Luke's, where his cooking kicked up an immediate response from my listeners and readers. It was about time I met this guy. He was younger than I expected--his food suggests a more traditional palate. His back pages involve La Riviera, where he worked for the incomparable chef Goffredo Fraccaro for over a decade. Yeah, a cook could learn a few good moves from Goffredo.
Ricky Christina--one of Porter & Luke's owners--was also with us, trying to get a word in edgewise past Chef Vincent. He did explain the name: Porter and Luke are the names of the two young sons of his partners in the restaurant.
After this lively program, I was off to dinner with nothing specific in mind. I headed first downriver, then north on Elysian Fields--not a promising direction. But there has been a revival in the Gentilly restaurant community in recent years. During the past few weeks several callers mentioned The Munch Factory. All reports about the place have been good, both in its original location on Franklin Avenue and this recently occupied spot on Elysian Fields near UNO.
Something good is going on here. On this Tuesday night, the dining room was nearly full. The hostess had to give my solo self a four-top table. Some restaurants would have forced me to eat at the bar or wait for a smaller table, but she didn't give that a thought, winning her and the restaurant a few extra points.
The menu was modern Creole from the distinctive 1980s era, when every restaurant from the top to the bottom was wild about rich cream sauces, tasso, andouille, and pasta. A lot more selection than I expected to find.
I had a unique pasta dish with the lightest of cream sauces. It didn't really even look like cream in there, although the flavor was convincing. Tangled in the spaghetti were mushrooms, andouille, shrimp, and the usual complement of savory vegetables. On top of all that was a large chicken breast made sort of in the Parmigiana style, but with little if any red sauce. Although writing about it now it doesn't sound especially exotic. But I don't remember ever having eaten anything quite like this.
It was vastly too much food. The two cheerful young women who served me had all kinds of ideas about what I could do with the surplus. But in honor of my wife--an artist when it comes to packing leftovers--I left it all behind. I can do this when MA is out of town.)
Preceding the pasta was a well-made chopped salad. After it was a peculiar bread pudding that had the texture of cake, although it tasted good enough. If I were looking for things to complain about, I would point to the music--but I am the one whose taste is peculiar in this case. I'm sure the college crowd (faculty as well as students) are the main clientele.
This is a cheerful place with lots of promise. My earliest restaurant reviews--in the (LS)UNO campus newspaper in 1972--complained about how few restaurants were around campus. That remained true (in fact, it got worse) for decades afterwards. But I think things are changing.
My thick mental book of Directions For Living says that when I find myself east of Bayou St. John and heading homeward, I should go through Slidell instead of crossing the Causeway. From the Munch Factory, the Slidell route is thirteen miles longer. But something about it seems right to me. Especially since, when I get home, only the dogs will welcome me back. And I'm not sure about them.
Munch Factory. Gentilly: 6325 Elysian Fields Ave. 504-324-5372.
