Tuesday, May 29, 2012.
Beer, Chips, And A Yat.
Mary Ann looks too hard for themes as she books guests for our Tuesday roundtable radio shows. This weekend, Channel 12 is having one of its beer festivals, and a call from their p.r. people soon translated into a visit from David Blossman, the president of Abita Beer. And Jay Johanson, the mouthpiece for Zapp's Potato Chips. She hit a snag in getting a third guest, but one turned up: David Cook, who is one of the two singers in the local music combo that calls itself The Yat Pack. His presence catalyzed the whole show into unrelieved merriment.
Blossman brought seven of his beers. Restoration Ale, Jockamo IPA, SOS (Save Our Shore, a fundraiser for those affected by the oil spill), Amber (the top seller), Andygator (the craft-beer lover's favorite, high in alcohol), the twenty-fifth Anniversary Double Dog (a dark beer with a hint of vanilla), and the Belgian-style Abbey Ale (the most delicious of the lot).
We had these in succession while eating through the current crop of Zapp's. The newest chip flavor is barbecue rib. They taste like barbecue chips at the beginning, but with an aftertaste of seared fat. No false advertising here, although I can't say it's the best of their chips. We kept opening bags of Cajun Crawtaters (with a crawfish-boil flavor), Voodoo (very spicy and salty) and regular. I like Zapp's. Except for a rough period about ten years ago, their chips have real character and a great crunch.
Jay brought Utz pretzels. Utz--a big snack food maker in Pennsylvania--bought Zapp's not long after the death two years ago of founder Ron Zappe. They say they won't change the Zapp's recipes or move production out of Gramercy, Louisiana. The main effect so far is that Utz products are now available here. This pleases the Marys, who took a liking to Utz during their long stay in Maryland after Katrina.
Between all this sucking down of suds and crunching of chips, David Cook explained how he and Tim Shirah created the Yat Pack five years ago. (The anniversary celebration will be this weekend at Rock 'n' Bowl.) At the time, a new interest was awakening in the music and style of the 1950s Las Vegas Rat Pack--Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Bobby Darin and others of that generation. (Think Michael Buble.) David and Tim linked up with some first-class local jazz instrumentalists, creating a credible big-band sound.
I actually sang with The Yat Pack once, during a gig at Andrew Jaeger's short-lived restaurant in Mandeville. In those early days the act was far from polished but showed promise. Especially to those who like that music, which I do. There's a lot of joking around in the performance--another hallmark of the Rat Pack of the 1950s. Last time I saw them was at the Taste of the Town, where they sounded great.
Either the beer or the salty chips had my head buzzing by the end of the radio show, to the point that I didn't feel hungry. That happens every night at the end of the show, though, and I needed to do some research.
Three years ago, I several dinners at Ye Olde College Inn brought me to two conclusions.
First, the College Inn we knew it from its decades as a major casual neighborhood eatery no longer exists. The building--already in bad shape when the hurricane floods laid a quietus on it--was gone. The restaurant moved to an even older, more substantial but completely different structure next door. Meanwhile, owner John Blancher and his staff changed the menu so much that only a few dishes from the old days survived. And those few were very different from their forebears.
Second, I thought the new food was terrible, and not because it was different.
About a year ago I heard that Chef Brad McGehee had taken over the kitchen, and had some ambitious ideas. It struck me that the last thing the College Inn needed was a hip young chef to come in and start buying pedigreed raw materials, making his own ketchup, and undertaking other projects to make the food sound great without actually being great.
On the other hand, the trends forcing all restaurants to serve more casual, homestyle food might be welcome at the College Inn. I went there for dinner tonight, to see where the new chef had taken the eighty-year-old restaurant.
Item One: Ye Olde College Inn of yore has had the last nails pounded into its coffin. Only the name, the oyster loaf, and a handful of old regular customers at the bar remain. The menu resembles those of other restaurants more than it does the classic College Inn menu. It's also very different from what I found three years ago. Ave atque vale.
Now the good news: the new College Inn has evolved into a very good hybrid. It's now somewhere between a gourmet bistro and a neighborhood café. The dinner I had there tonight exemplified that, and was better than any I ever remember here in any age.
Barbecue shrimp are made in Emeril's style, wherein the shrimp are peeled. The shells and heads are used to make an intense shrimp stock. Butter is emulsified in to give a thick, almost creamy sauce with a great shrimp flavor and the butter and black pepper for which the dish is known. For ten bucks you get four big shrimp (so the menu pricing is also of a new age), along with four sticks of toasted French bread and enough of the sauce for all four of them. (It is well-known that French bread dipped in barbecue shrimp sauce is at least as good as the shrimp themselves.) Superb. Right on.
The house salad is not the mediocre freebie from the Sixties, but made of so many vegetables and greens that I counted them: thirteen. It was a wonderful collection of complements and contrasts, with a light, lemony vinaigrette.
I would later learn that many of the vegetables had come from a small farm across the side street, in the lot where those two grand houses burned down after Katrina. Chef Brad showed me around the spread, and told me that nearby they're raising chickens and using the eggs in the restaurant. And that they're having cows fed on grass somewhere, and not only using the steaks but butchering them in the restaurant and even making their hamburgers with the resulting beef.
The entree was very impressive. It was the standard preparation of the fish of the day (redfish), in which a maquechoux of not just corn but also other vegetables form a very substantial bottom layer. Cherry tomatoes, crabmeat and a yellow sauce I couldn't quite identify complete the dish. Maybe one or two ingredients too many on this plate, and the seasoning was a little low. But even so, this was a very satisfying, fresh-tasting dish.
This was already too much food. But Chef Brad thought I needed to try the fried bread pudding poor boy. The College Inn took first place at the Po-Boy Festival a couple of years ago with this. I can see why. In texture and flavor, it was highly original, but with all the characteristics I hope for in a bread pudding (my favorite dessert), in distinguished form.
In short, I was as pleased by this iteration of Ye Olde College Inn as I was disgusted by the one of three years ago. My hat (a red fedora The Yat Pack gave me earlier in the day, with sequins and flashing lights) is off to the Blanchards, Chef Brad, and their promising new direction.
Ye Olde College Inn. Carrollton: 3016 S Carrollton Ave. 504-866-3683.
It's over three years since a day was missed in the Dining Diary. To browse through all of the entries since 2008, go here.
