Recently in Reviews Category

A few weeks ago I received an email from Magic Hat Brewery, asking if I'd be interested in sampling one of their beers. My general position where these things are concerned is to accept just about whatever someone is willing to send me, with certain limitations, and with the understanding that I won't necessarily write about what I'm sent. I'm a very busy man, after all, and also some of the stuff I'm sent sucks. It's not worth my time to write about things that suck.

I ignore offers for things that I know won't interest me, or you for that matter. But beer? Send me beer, people.

So that's what happened with the folks at Magic Hat Brewery. They offered to send me beer, and I accepted. If I hadn't liked the beer, you wouldn't be reading about it now. But I did; they sent me two bottles of their Not Quite Pale Ale, along with a few other items.

The beer was very interesting; when I read "Pale Ale" on a label, even if it's modified by "not quite a," I'm thinking the beer is going to be pretty hoppy. That's not entirely the case with this brew, which has some serious malt, a bit of bitterness from hops, and a lot of fruit as well. Honestly the fruit was a little off-putting at first, but it grew on me. This is a very good beer, at least in my somewhat uncultured opinion. It's available on tap at Cooter Brown's, The Bulldog, Wolf’s Den, The Avenue Pub, DBA, and The Balcony Bar.

Here is what it looked like poured into a glass:

Magic Hat Not Quite Pale Ale

I've been trying to remember to post an update here when my online column, Haute Plates, is posted at the My New Orleans website.

Damned if I didn't remember today. Go forth and read about my thoughts on the Bistro at Maison de Ville.

You may note that the quality of my writing is substantially better there than it is here. That is due to the magic of editing, my friends. The magic of editing. Would that I had an editor for the more prosaic work I perform here, but alas...

The annual dining issue of New Orleans Magazine is out, which that includes the "Best of Dining Awards. I had the great pleasure of writing the awards for Chef of the Year, Best New Restaurant, and Maître d’ of the year, as well as a few of the shorter pieces. Go and pick up several copies, if you would. Following is an image from one of the winners' restaurants; Donald Link's Herbsaint:

Gnocchi with ham and Maitake mushrooms

Folks, I've been busy. I know I've said it before, but while I enjoy writing this website, it's pretty far down on my list of priorities. My family, my legal practice, and writing for which I get paid all come ahead, as does my continued quest for that Leprechaun's pot o' gold. God damned Leprechaun.

There are a number of things I'd like to write about, and hopefully in the next week or two, I'll have a chance to do so. My cousin David's cookbook, DamGoodSweet has been released, and it's only one of about a half dozen books I need to review in some fashion.

I have been remiss about posting press releases that you might actually find interesting. For example, Peggy Scott Laborde's new documentary, New Orleans Food Memories will air on November 18 on WYES, at 7 and 10 p.m. I'm getting a chance to see it tonight; if I manage to find the time, I'll post a quick review. I'm pretty sure, knowing Peggy's work and the folks she's interviewed, that it will be worth your time.

Also: the New Orleans Po-boy Preservation Festival is set to kick off on Sunday, November 22nd, from 11 to 6 at Oak Street near Carrollton. They've moved things around, and should have more space for what's become an extremely popular event. It looks like I'll be there as a judge this year, so come by and see me.

I've also been taking a bunch of pictures lately; some for paying work, but others just sit on my hard drive, or reside in my Flickr page Here is an example:

Jambon-beurre at St. James Cheese Company

That's a photograph I took as part of some research into an article on banh mi sandwiches, or "Vietnamese po-boys" as we tend to call them down here.

Finally, at least for the moment, I have been making plans to redesign and rework this site. I've had a very good proposal, and now the problem is finding time to meet with the designer to discuss practicalities. I hope that by the end of the year Appetites looks completely different, and that you will once again be able to add comments here. I very much appreciate emails, and please keep them coming, but I've always found it easier to simply add a comment, and I'm sure you do too.

We'll see how that works out, and in the interim I'll try to at least provide brief updates on a more regular basis. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I hear the lilt of bagpipes in conference room 3.

On the menu currently at Cochon Butcher, under the "bar food" heading, are slow-cooked pork tongue tacos with pickled onions and cilantro:

Pork Tongue Tacos

I'm a sucker for tongue.* Particularly tongue tacos at a few local joints like Taco San Miguel. Those are usually prepared with beef tongue, and the pork on this taco was more dense, with a sharper flavor. I'm writing this at 6:00 a.m., and I'm craving them right this goddamn second.

The tacos come two to an order for $6, and you can see the rest of Butcher's bar food menu here.






*What?

One day last week, I forgot a file at home that I needed for a deposition, so I used that as an excuse to have a quick lunch at Vega Tapas Cafe.

Goat cheese croquette

That was an amuse. Very tasty.

Tortilla de Camarones

That's a Tortilla, a Spanish omelette which in this instance contained shrimp and cheese. It's often served at room temperature, but this one was warm.

Gambas al Pil Pil

And because there is apparently no limit to the number of shrimp I will eat, I had the above, served with a spicy "Pil Pil" sauce over polenta next.

Nice lunch, and I had plenty of room to spread things out and get a little work done while I ate.

Also, I was on Steppin' Out last night. You can, at least for the time being, see it here. Fun time, though I really should have cut one or two of those items from the presentation. I'd have had more time to devote to the other topics, and maybe even more time to figure out whether I had Michael Buchert's name right. Oh well.

I was Uptown on business recently, and stopped in at the Flaming Torch for lunch. It's a great little place, and I wish I could get there more frequently.

Crevettes Sazerac

That's the "Crevettes Sazerac," which is essentially the restaurant's version of "barbecue shrimp." It's really quite good, with just a hint of rye whiskey and saffron in the sauce.

Snapper with passionfruit beurre blanc

I can also recommend the fish special, which on this day was Red Snapper with a passionfruit beurre blanc. At least, I'm pretty sure it was Snapper. I didn't take notes. I can say this: it was cooked perfectly, and delicious.

In other news, check out this post at Le Foret's website, wherein they provide a "sneak peek" at their menu. The restaurant should be open soon; they're taking reservations as of October 1. That menu certainly has me interested in checking the place out.

You can call the restaurant at 504.553.6738 for more information.

I missed a chance to check out some of the new offerings on the menu at The Rib Room recently, when I had to turn down an opportunity to dine with the restaurant's publicist and a few other food writers. That was disappointing, since I like what chef Anthony Spizale is doing now that he's seemingly been give a bit more freedom to expand the offerings on the menu. You'll always be able to get the titular cut of meat in several different sizes, and on a "sizzle plate" if you want, but it's nice to have other options.

One day this past week, when the weather was so unseasonably nice, I took some work with me to the restaurant, and had a pretty nice, and pretty quick, lunch.

Blue Cheese Salad

I ordered a special, which I'll get to later, and it came with a salad. There wasn't anything particularly groundbreaking about it, but then again, sometimes one just wants a salad. It looked (and looks, in that picture, I suppose) like it had too much dressing, but for some reason it didn't feel like too much once I started eating.

Flat Iron Steak

The special was a flat iron "Kobe" steak, served with a reduction sauce accented with thyme, and roasted baby vegetables. The flat iron steak is not as uncommon as it once was, but it's still not something you see every day. It's got a sharper, almost liver-like flavor that I like. The steak and salad were $14, which is quite a steal, particularly considering that's around 14 oz. of meat on the plate.

If you haven't been to the Rib Room for lunch in a while, you might be surprised by what's on offer.

In addition to the Rib Room, I had a chance to eat again at Domenica last week, and also at Cuvee. I took pictures at both meals, and while you can always find them on my Flickr page, I'll put them up here as well in the next few days. I hope.

Meanwhile, if you have a burning desire to follow me on Twitter, you can do so here.

Domenica, John Besh's Italian restaurant in the Roosevelt Hotel, opened today. I was informed of this fact by a small bird who appeared to me in the form of my partner John. I thought it was odd that John, who is more of a hamster than a bird, would appear to me in this manner, but it could also have been the cold medicine I have been drinking lately.

Anyway, I stopped by Domenica after work this evening and sampled a few items from the antipasti menu. The restaurant is the latest in Besh's empire, and is helmed by Alon Shaya, who most recently was in charge at Besh Steak, in Harrah's Casino. Shaya spent a good bit of time in Italy last year, getting ready for the restaurant's opening, and it shows. While the food on the plate is definitely what you'd expect from a Besh property, it's also, at least from what I've seen, authentically Italian.

I did not bring my camera this evening, so you'll have to wait for your food porn. I also left my notes, taken on a menu, at the restaurant. More on that in a bit.

The restaurant's dining area is dominated by a single, huge room, separated by massive square columns, and with a ceiling that's 30 feet high if it's an inch. It's a cavernous space, and combined with the hard surfaces used to line just about every available surface, it can get a little loud. The place was a good 3/4 full tonight, and while I wouldn't put the noise at "Galatoire's Friday Lunch" level, it's the type of place where you'll be leaning in to follow a conversation. There's also a marble bar, raised above the dining room on one side, at which you, or I as it happens, can dine.

I started with the Sicilian meatballs, which are served in a dark beef broth garnished with a rough brunoise of vegetables, and flavored with thyme. The meatballs had a very light texture, cooked until just pink in the center, but with a bit of crispness on the outside. It's a very simple dish, and carried off very well. As with all of the antipasti, and also the pasta dishes, the meatballs are available in small or large portions, with a corresponding difference in price. As I did not bring the f*cking menu home, I can't be sure about the prices, but I believe the small portion of the meatballs (3 meatballs, if you're interested) was around $7.

After that I tried the carpaccio of octopus, which is served with fregola and a citrus salad. The octopus is sliced very thinly, and arranged in small, circular pieces around the plate, with the pasta mounded in the center, along with "supremes" of orange, fresh herbs and thinly sliced onion. The pasta, which is basically the Italian version of "Israeli" cous cous, had a pretty serious bite from some dried red chile in the citrus juice and olive oil dressing. Another excellent dish. I think it was $8 for a small portion.

After that, I had fried squash blossoms stuffed with a mild goat cheese, and served over diced roasted red peppers and a dressing of balsamic vinegar and olive oil. There is an art to frying squash blossoms, judged mainly on the lightness of the result. The squash blossoms at Domenica get an "A," both for the almost dainty hand employed in the frying, and because the goat cheese used to stuff the blossoms was mild, and did not distract from the overall dish. Shaya's touch with herbs is similar to Besh's, and the squash blossoms were garnished with more diced red bell peppers, herbs, and baby greens. I think the small portion of the blossoms was $8.

At this point I was no longer hungry, but for you, my children, I ordered dessert. Fig fritters served with a lemon zabaglione. Five or six rich, tender, golf-ball sized fritters, dusted with sugar, and served with an airy, lemon-flavored sauce. There are five or six items on the dessert menu, and this dessert is third on the list. I didn't get past it. I do recall that there's a hazelnut-chocolate mousse, and a fresh fruit "minestrone" that looked pretty darn good. All of the desserts are $8. Unless they're not. Which is possible.

It's far too early to judge Domenica, but everything I tasted this evening was outstanding. I didn't have a chance to taste the pastas or the entrees, to say nothing of the pizzas or the salumi and other charcuterie, but it's clear that this is a serious restaurant. While, again, it's too early to judge, from where I'm sitting it looks like the best Italian restaurant in New Orleans.

Now I suppose we'll see what Adolfo Garcia has to say about that, when he opens his new place in the Warehouse District...

A few pictures from lunch a couple of weeks ago at August.

Salt-baked shrimp with grilled melon, heirloom tomatoes, and "pungent" herbs

I really love the combination of seafood and melon, and I've rarely had it better than in this dish. The shrimp were perfectly cooked, and not over-seasoned from the salt-baking. Besh has always had a brilliant touch with herbs, and while I'm not sure where the "pungent" comes into the description when the herbs were basil, mint, and chervil, they were a perfect complement. That was my starter.

Here's another view:

Salt-baked shrimp

My entree:

"Barbecue" veal breast with horseradish whipped potatoes, porcini mushrooms and fresh cherries

I'm a big fan of veal breast.* When it's cooked properly, it's a succulent piece of meat. The problem with it is that there's a lot of connective tissue to get around. One way to do that is to break it down and stuff it. Another is to cook it slowly for enough time to reduce even tough connective tissue to something manageable. This was very good, though not without some inedible parts parts. The potatoes were flavored with just enough horseradish to provide a little bite; the sauce was rich and had a real meaty depth, provided in part by the mushrooms. Overall, it didn't compete with the salt-baked shrimp, but it was very good.

I am trying something new here. I'm writing this on Sunday afternoon, but am "scheduling" the publication for Tuesday. Not sure if its going to work, but we'll see.






*Among others.


What?

Spiced, by Dalia Jurgensen, is an interesting study in what makes a tell-all book. It’s got all of the requisite elements: "backstage" stories, sex, drugs; that sort of thing. It's an interesting read, but not quite as satisfying as it might have been. Part of that is because the author is writing about a relatively short period of time, all things considered. She came to the kitchen late, and wrote this book before she turned 40.

It’s also up against a few books that are the sine qua non of “insider” kitchen books: Tony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential being the foremost, but Bill Buford’s Heat also comes to mind. Both of those books are better examples of the sort of romanticized down and out style books that seem to keep popping up in this, the age of the chef-as-rock-star.

It’s not really fair to judge Jurgensen’s book by those standards, because her book is far more a memoir than an expose of life in the kitchen. It's also not fair to compare Jurgensen's book to the Sharper Your Knife, but I can't help it. Both authors - women - decided to take up a career in cooking late in life. There, however, the similarities end. Flinn's book was largely concerned with her relationships with her fellow cooking school students, and her fiance. Relationships take a back seat in Jurgensen's book, or more precisely, the relationship that's important from Jurgensen's perspective is between her and the job she has to do.

The world Jurgensen chose to enter is dominated by men. That's a point she makes repeatedly, and with justification. High-end kitchens, at least in New York, are apparently one of the only workplaces left where blatant sexism is accepted by employers. Maybe it's the lawyer in me, but things Jurgensen brushes off as commonplace in the book struck me as actionable.

Where Jurgensen’s book falls a little flat is in the matter-of-fact tone. I’m not sure how I would have improved it, but I did have a hard time getting into the story from time to time. It’s compelling in places, and I’m not sorry that I read it. Indeed, if I hadn’t been interested, you wouldn’t be reading this now. Jurgensen may not be Bourdain, or Buford, but the stories she has to tell are certainly interesting.

So what about those stories? Well, she’s got stories about “hooking up” in the kitchen and what that can mean to working relationships. She’s got stories about how cooks feel about and interact with waiters, and with restaurant owners. She's got anecdotes about some chefs whom I'm sure are famous in New York, but whose names didn't make much of an impression on me, frankly.* Most importantly, and most frequently she’s got stories about the pressure of being in the midst of a dinner rush on various positions in truly professional kitchens. Most of the stories are entertaining, although the overall impression is that even the best kitchens in New York are havens of misogyny. Unlike Orwell’s famous book, however, Jurgensen never gives the impression that the kitchens resent their customers, or take out their frustrations on them.

One of the best parts of the book is when Jurgensen discusses creating desserts, and I wish there’d been more of that. She’s apparently a talented pastry chef, but that’s a lesson I learned with difficulty. The book is written in the first person, and Jurgensen certainly didn’t feel uncomfortable discussing her successes, so I’m puzzled why she didn’t write more about the creative process. There are also no recipes in the book, which is a shame. Some of Jurgensen’s “signature” dishes would have translated well: the banana tarte tatin that she mentions repeatedly, for example, or any of the ice creams she describes.

Overall, I liked the book, and it’s a valuable insight on life in high-end professional kitchens from a perspective that we don't often see.

Here's a picture of the review copy I used to write this post:

Book!




*Yes, I looked past the pseudonyms.

Many people are sub-literate morons, but not you, my faithful readers. As a service to you* I sometimes receive books in the mail to review in this space. Because I am slothful, and because this website generates approximately no revenue, I do not always write timely reviews of these books.

In the interest of assuaging some of the guilt** I feel, I thought I'd write briefly about a few of the books I'm hoping to review at further length in the near future. First up, An Apple a Day, by Joe Schwarcz, PhD. I haven't done a full read of it yet, but it looks to be a pretty comprehensive take on the current science where the health affects (both beneficial and detrimental) of food is concerned. There's a huge amount of information in this book, and I have no doubt I'll be using it for some time to come.

I've also got a preview version of a book that looks really cool: Spiced, by Dalia Jurgensen. It's another in the "behind the scenes" books in the fashion of Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential, and indeed, Bourdain has blurbed it. The bits I've read have been well written, and interesting. I actually had to make a conscious effort to put the damn thing down, since I just don't have time to get caught up in a new book right now. Although I have a preview copy, it looks like the book is available widely now, so give it a look.

One book I did not get via a publicist is Donald Link's Real Cajun. Nope, I picked that one up the day it hit the streets at Cochon Butcher. My copy is signed "Life's short, eat well," but I've added, "Because you are the wind beneath my wings, Robert D. Peyton, and I believe I speak for the entire human race when I thank you for being the beautiful, beautiful person that you are." I think that probably sums up how he, and everyone else, feels about me.

But seriously, it's a beautiful cookbook that's been a long time in the making. I bought my copy on April 21, and I haven't had a chance to cook anything from the book, but I'm particularly interested in the recipe for jambalaya, as I tend to prefer the Cajun style of that dish. Link is one of Louisiana's premiere chefs, and this is the food that he grew up eating, with a few modern touches. I'll write more about it in the not too distant future.







*I like free stuff
**I had my sense of guilt excised in 1994, when I passed the bar exam

I have the very good fortune to represent a company whose main office is in New Iberia, Louisiana. I will not go into the business aspects of our relationship, but I will note that they took me last week to Mr. Lester's Steakhouse, in Charenton. The restaurant is located in the Cypress Bayou casino, on land owned by the Chitimacha.

I am not a big fan of casinos, and my experience eating in casinos has not been optimal. But I was told by folks whose opinions I trust that Mr. Lester's was fantastic. They were right. This is not a place to eat when you're in the casino and feeling a bit peckish. It's a destination.

The restaurant is within, but separate from the casino, and once you cross the threshold, you're free from the noise of the casino floor. It has a modern decor in the main dining room, and in the bar. There's also a cigar bar with an adjacent dining room that's decorated more along the lines of an English club. Big leather chairs and couches, a fireplace, and paintings that run from the modern to "Dogs Playing Poker." This is not subtle stuff, but honestly, they pull it off.

The main dining room is a large space, with frosted glass to divide it from the bar and the kitchen. There's a private dining room as well, for parties of 15 or more. I did not have a chance to look at the wine list, because my aforementioned awesome freaking clients took care of that end of the deal, but I did see much of the wine stored along the walls of the dining rooms.

When you look at the menu, you'll see that it's fairly standard for a steakhouse; or at least a steakhouse in Acadiana. There are items on the menu that are de rigeur for a restaurant in South Louisiana; the seafood stuffed mushrooms, for example, or the fried softshell crab. But a lot of the menu is what you'd see at many top-end steakhouses. There's a particularly important distinction however: it's all executed extremely well.

Which leads me to a slight diversion - the service. It was also excellent. From the moment we entered, to the moment we left, the staff was attentive without being intrusive. We ended up as the final table in the restaurant on a Wednesday night, and not for a moment did I feel rushed. Part of that may be because the folks with whom I dined were regulars, but I'd be surprised if that made too much of a difference.

So what did I eat? Well, I started with the Lobster Napoleon, which layers crisps of fried wonton shells with Boursin cheese and lobster. It's served with a tomato basil cream sauce, and it was delicious. The lobster was cooked perfectly (they do a lot of lobster), and the sauce married well with the slightly tart cheese. One of my friends had the stuffed mushrooms, and gave me a taste. I'm ordinarily leery of "seafood stuffed" things, but this was incredible. Very light, full of crabmeat and with a little bite of chile, but nothing in the dish overwhelmed the mushrooms.

I should also note at this point that Mr. Lester's has some outstanding bread. Again, I'd heard good things about the bread before I arrived, but I was still pleasantly surprised by the basket on the table. We take bread for granted in New Orleans, because even more or less cut rate joints have good stuff available given our predilection for po-boys. This, however, is more along the artisanal lines, and there aren't many places I've eaten with a better selection. I tasted the rye, and the focaccia, and a bit of a baguette, I believe. All of them were good. To me, that kind of attention to detail is the difference between a good restaurant and an excellent restaurant.

I picked the lamb for my entree, and they did not have the porterhouse advertised on the menu. They gave me a "strip" instead, and it was very good. It was cooked a little past the medium rare I'd ordered, but not to the point where I even considered sending it back. They served the lamb with a credible Bordelaise sauce and a mustard/mint sauce that was pretty good too.

Now a good part of the experience at any restaurant is the company you keep at the table. I was very fortunate in that regard, but I think I've been doing this long enough to separate that aspect of my meal from the overall experience. I would not hesitate to return to Mr. Lester's, and I'm hoping I can get back there before too long.

I've heard good things about the bread pudding souffle, after all...

I'm sick again. Physically. The latter part of this week has been a blur; I've slept maybe 2 hours in the last 72. I've made it into my office a couple of times to pick up mail, and some records for a medical malpractice case I've got coming up, but I don't imagine a review of those would interest anyone.

I had been planning a review of a book authored by Bill Buford, called Heat. It's a great book, and one that I do intend on reviewing at some point, but when I went into the office today I found a copy of Soul Kitchen by Poppy Z. Brite. It came unsolicited, but it reminded me that a few months ago I'd bought Liquor by the same author.

At any given time I have around 2 dozen books I've purchased that I haven't read. That doesn't count cookbooks, which I tend to skim as soon as I've bought them, only going back to them if they really caught my interest. I bought Liquor in part out of a sense of obligation. I mean, here's someone writing about restaurants in New Orleans, who has an interest in food, and who's married to a chef. How could I not pick up a copy?

But with everything else I had on my plate, I didn't get around to reading it until today. Now I am sick, and I have been without sleep for quite some time, but this appears to have had an affect on me rather different than you'd expect. I am not so much loopy as calm at this point. Centered, if you will. It could have something to do with the cold medicine, or the fact that I haven't eaten a whole lot, but I feel relatively good, and I polished off Liquor in one sitting.

It's a really good book.

When I decided I was going to write about it, I started to think about Brite's style, and tried to think of authors to whom I'd compare her. She's direct, and her prose is very clean. I was still trying to figure out whom she evoked, when I decided that it really doesn't matter. The book is character based, and the strength of the book is the depth of those characters.

It's centered around two guys, Rickey and G-Man; childhood friends from the lower 9th ward who work in New Orleans restaurants, almost aimlessly, but with (at least in the case of one) the idea that bigger things are calling. The book is ultimately about their relationship and how it weathers a few challenges. Some of the best parts of the book are domestic scenes in their home on Marengo; it's also some of the most realistic writing about relationshiops generally that I've read.

Not all of the characters are given as much time as Rickey and G-man, but all of the important characters are at least fully fleshed out. This is not a book that left me scrambing back through previous pages to figure out who the hell the author was talking about when a character came up.

More than the human characters, Brite does a great job of evoking New Orleans generally, from po-boy shops to fine-dining joints, and places in-between, that's authentic in a way that a lot of restaurant and other cultural reviews aren't. The sense of place in this book is so genuine that I wonder if people from outside New Orleans are actually going to pick up the nuances.

There's also a character based on Emeril Lagasse who's done with a kind of subtlety that is really just magnificent. I'm not going to spoil anything from the plot, but I'll say this, if Emeril is anywhere near as clever as his avatar in this book, he ought to be running the country.

Since reading the book - and actually since starting this review - I've read a few things that other people have written about the book at Amazon.com. One review talked about conflicts in the plot being "not too convincing." I found it pretty convincing myself. I mean, there are certain liberties we take in reading fiction; no-one wants to read a book about mundane people leading mundane lives, but there was nothing in this book I found particularly unbelievable in context.

Another review described the main characters as "brilliant but underappreciated line chefs," which I also found a bit off. The main characters are good, inventive cooks, but "brilliant?" I dunno. I don't think that's where Brite was going. I had the impression that this was a story about two guys with some ambition and a good bit of talent making a place for themselves in the pretty competitive world of New Orleans restaurants.

So I'm glad I got the copy of Soul Kitchen in the mail today, because had I not, I have no idea when I'd have read Liquor. I'll be buying Prime , the second book in this series, next, and ultimately I suppose I'll do a review of Soul Kitchen.

In the meantime, I'm hoping to get some sleep at some point, or possibly just render myself unconscious with a blow to the head. I'm thinking that could only have beneficial effects.