Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
Wherein we confirm that beignets are just not our thing.
The Cafe du Monde is one of the America’s oldest – and most famous – cafes, serving chicory coffee and beignets since 1862. This open air cafe is located at one end of the French market in the French quarter and attracts endless lines of tourists. While our visit to Cafe Beignet had pretty much convinced us that we didn’t like beignets, any visit to New Orleans demands a visit to Cafe du Monde. Alas, rather than face the crowds myself, I sent Mike to get us beignets. I didn’t burden him with getting chicory coffee, as I was pretty sure I would not like it. Chicory has been used as a coffee extender for ages, and while it has become quite popular in New Orleans, there is a reason why that popularity hasn’t travelled (I guess this is just as true for beignets). Plus our hotel had normal coffee available for guests.
The beignets come in paper bags, three to an order ($3.85)
They had irregular shapes, they were probably rectangular to being with but they deformed in the hot oil. I liked them better than those at Cafe Beignet because they were slightly lighter and less dense, but only slightly. These were still heavy, chewy and just not that tasty. Again, regular doughnuts are far superior.
Still, I’m glad we tried them.
Besides its location at the French Market, Café du Monde has several locations throughout New Orleans, including one at the airport. So, if unlike us, you do like beignets, you can pick some up right before you fly back home.
Cafe du Monde 800 Decatur St New Orleans, LA (504) 587-0833 Su-Th: 7:15AM-11PM F-Sa: 7:15AM-12AM
Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
Classic Creole food by a disciple of the great Paul Prudhomme
Brigtsen’s is one of those Chef owned restaurants that you just want to love because you know they are a labor of love themselves. Chef Frank Brigtsen started his culinary career as a pantry apprentice at New Orleans famed restaurant Commander’s Palace back in 1978. There, legendary chef Paul Prudhomme took him under his wing, teaching him how to cook traditional Creole cuisine. In 1986, Prudhomme helped Brigtsen open his own restaurant, and he has been cooking and serving sophisticated Creole cuisine ever since. In these almost forty years he has won numerous awards, including a James Beard, and has become an ambassador for Creole cuisine nationwide. He is also mentoring the next generation of Creole cuisine chefs.
The restaurant itself is located in a cottage in the Riverbend neighborhood of New Orleans. It’s only a couple of blocks away from a cable car stop, and the ride from the French Quarter takes you through the Garden District and by Tulane university. The ride in the airy wooden carriage was long but romantic in that balmy spring New Orleans evening, and a perfect preface to a Creole meal.
I’ve eaten at a handful of restaurants located in old homes, and I like the intimacy of the small dining rooms. This was the case at Brigtsen’s, where we were seated in what once might have been a small dining room itself. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration, but it wasn’t needed.
Brigtsen’s is a smart casual sort of place, like most of the nicer restaurants we went to in New Orleans. What this means in practicality is that collared shirts are a must for men.
Brigtsen’s menu is centered in Creole cuisine, though it travels beyond it by incorporating dishes and ingredients that show international influences – what you would expect from a lower-case, ever evolving creole cuisine.
The menu was heavy on seafood and not particularly friendly to vegetarians – fortunately, we didn’t have one along. It’s relatively short, fitting a small kitchen.
I wasn’t extremely hungry so I decided to forgo an appetizer and get dessert instead, though Mike went for the full three courses.
We started dinner with bread. Now, this is true at most American restaurants, but at Brigtsen’s they actually charge you for the bread ($3.50). This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem – when I grew up in Argentina, most restaurants charged for bread -, if the bread was particularly good. This one wasn’t. It was just a typical French loaf, distinct only by how extraordinarily airy it was inside. Basically, it was all crust and the crust wasn’t particularly tasty. The salted butter was not particularly noteworthy either.
Mike had a cup of their Filé Gumbo with Chicken and Andouille Sausage ($9). It was my first experience with gumbo and I was surprised at how much I liked it. I’d always been reluctant to try gumbo because I thought all gumbos included okra. That turns out not to be true – they can also be thickened with filé, as was the case here, or even with a dark roux. It’s a pity I hadn’t tried them before, because the gumbo here was very good. Now, it wasn’t out of this world good – the filé, I think, gave it an awkward undertone – but it was tasty and satisfying. This being our first gumbo, we couldn’t really compare it to others when we ate it, but we liked the one we had at Broussard’s the following day more.
Mike had the Seafood Platter ($48), which came which consisted of seafood prepared in five different ways. He was very happy with it. He felt that the grilled redfish with crawfish and pistachio lime sauce sauce was perfectly cooked and delicious. The sauce was “yummy” and the crawfish added a nice texture. He liked both scallop preparations just as much. The baked scallop with Herbsaint creamed spinach and Gruyere was scrumptious and the cheese was mild enough to not overwhelm the scallop. He liked the sauce in the seared sea scallop with Fontina cream cheese grits and mojo sauce that he didn’t mind the grits, though the Fontina cream cheese helped. Mike doesn’t like oysters in general, but here the baked oyster with shrimp and crabmeat was chopped and mixed with the other seafood and he liked the overall dish as well as its presentation on an oyster shell. Finally, he loved the crawfish cornbread with jalapeño smoked corn butter. The cornbread had a kick without being too spicy and the crawfish gave it a subtle flavor. The bread has a nice, standard texture. In all, he was very happy.
Not being a seafood lover, I was more limited on my choices and decided to go with the Grilled Beef Filet with Marchand du Vin sauce ($45), despite it sounding more French than Creole. The filet was described as grilled, but I could have sworn it was sous vide given how incredibly tender it was and how consistent it was its texture. I don’t think I’ve had a more tender steak in my life, though I also don’t think I’ve had sous vide steak before, so I’m only speculating as to what its texture might be. It was also impressively free of any grit. The sauce was as delicious as expected. The mashed potatoes had good flavor, and this was overall a good, solid dish.
For dessert, I couldn’t resist the Tres Leches Cake with Ponchatoula Strawberries and Chocolate whipped Cream ($14) despite its less than Creole origin. It was a big mistake. The cake was crumbly and lacked both moisture and flavor. A shortcake or biscuit would at least have been able to absorb the sauce and gain it from it, but this one didn’t have the necessary consistency. The chocolate cream provided a discordant flavor that overwhelmed both the cake and the strawberries, and had a heavy consistency, closer to buttercream. Finally, the strawberries were just not sweet. In all, this dessert was a complete failure and should not have been served. Someone should have tasted the strawberries, determined they weren’t ready and taken it off the menu.
Mike had the Lemon Ice Box Creme Brulée ($10) and that was much better. There was nothing remarkable to it, but it had a nice flavor and consistency. It was, at least, what you expected it to be.
I had sparkling water with dinner ($3), but Mike had a Bayou Bonfire cocktail ($13). Unfortunately, he can’t remember it at all – and all I remember is that it was way too alcoholic for me to try more than a sip, but that is true with most cocktails.
Service was competent thought not extremely attentive – for example, no one inquired about how we felt about dessert.
In all, given everything I’d read about the restaurant before we went, I expected more – of the three full fledged meals we had at New Orleans restaurants, this was my least favorite – though that may just speak about the quality of the others. Still, we did have a lovely dinner in a lovely restaurant after a lovely cable car ride, and enjoyed the experience very much. I’d return.
Brigtsen's 723 Dante Street New Orleans, LA (504)-861-7610 T-Sa: 5:00 pm - 8:30 pm
Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
Alcoholic Slushies in a Fun Venue
Bourbon Street has an endless number of bars selling both serious cocktails and fun artificial-fruit-syrupy ones. Tropical Isle falls happily in the second category. With four different locations on Bourbon Street alone, you don’t have to walk far to get your next hand grenade – their signature drink. We only visited one of the four locations, but if we were younger and liked to drink more, I’d had visited them all.
The bars are just cool. The drinks might be the grown up version of Kool-Aid, but the bars are the grown up versions of a daycare classroom, at least one decorated with flea market finds, featuring outrageous decorations that occupy your mind as it gets dumber and dumber from the alcohol.
As mentioned, their signature drink is the Hand Grenade. This is supposed to be made with “vodka, rum, gin and melon liqueur,” though the actual recipe is kept secret. In reality, it tastes like yet another super sweet Kool-Aid type drink with alcohol. It’s served either frozen, in a slushy form, or on the ice – though you can pay more to have without ice altogether. You’d have to have an extreme tolerance to sweets to go that route. The drink’s trademarked tagline is as “New Orleans most powerful drink,” though it’s unlikely that’s the case. We had the frozen Hand Grenade and it didn’t seem particularly strong, though the sweetness does a great job of hiding the alcoholic flavor. It also slows down how quickly you can drink this.
We also had the Tropical Itch, which comes in a totem-like red plastic glass. This had more of a tropical punch flavor. Again, it was too sweet and not too strong.
As much as I didn’t really liked the drinks, I did enjoy the cups and even brought them home. I also enjoyed hanging out by the window in the bar, looking at the decore.
Tropical Isle Bourbon 721 Bourbon Street New Orleans, La Daily 12:00 p.m. - ?
Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
Good Food at the Birthplace of The Hurricane
Pat O’Brien’s is one of New Orleans institutions. The bar has operated in one form or another since 1933 and it famed as the originator of the Hurricane, New Orleans’s signature drink. It’s also famed for its beautiful central courtyard, which you can access through both of Pat O’Brien’s locations, on St. Peter and Bourbon streets. Despite the restaurant’s name, when we went the central courtyard was reserved for people who were drinking and not eating, and was not available for anyone under 21.
We sat instead on a side patio – probably the one that came with the house on Bourbon St. – in a roofed but open area. It wasn’t as nice as the courtyard, but it had less foot traffic. The restaurant/bar has a very casual atmosphere, with plastic tablecloths.
The food menu is pretty limited and as I still wasn’t too hungry, I went with a small cup of jambalaya (chicken and sausage – $8). I was surprised that it consisted of a stew with a lump of rice in the middle. When I’ve made Creole jambalaya myself, I’ve cooked the rice in the stew. Still, I noted this method of cooking stews and rice separately show up at several restaurants we went to. I wonder if it’s just a way of saving time in the kitchen. While this jambalaya was quite flavorful, I think I prefer cooking them together.
I had heard somewhere that Pat O’Brien had a good bread pudding ($8) and they were right. It was delicious, so good that my husband liked it. The whisky sauce didn’t taste alcoholic and reminded me, instead, of toffee. The pudding was light and the pecan on top gave it the necessary crunch.
You can’t go to Pat O’Brien and not have a Hurricane ($8.50), of course, so we ordered one to share. As the story goes, O’Brien invented this drink in the 1940’s when whiskey was in short supply. Rum was plentiful, however, and O’Brien experimented until he invented a rum-based cocktail that his customers liked. The cocktail is made with passion fruit pureé, citrus juices and grenadine – or at least, it was originally. Nowadays, Pat O’Brien sells a Hurricane mix made with sugar or high fructose corn syrup, citric acid and natural and artificial flavors. Given that this was the first time we had a hurricane, I couldn’t tell if the drink we got had the real ingredients or the mix. I rather think that it was the latter, as the drink was overwhelmingly sweet and one-toned and not particularly fruity and way too red to not contain at least dye. Think tropical punch with added sugar and alcohol.
While the sweetness does a good job of hiding the alcohol, it was still pretty strong for me – at least at the beginning. While the glass is impressively large, it’s filled with ice, so there is a relatively small amount of alcohol in it – so by the time some of it melted away, the drink was mild enough for me to enjoy.
In all, we had a pretty good time at Pat O’Brien’s, and I’m glad we went. I am curious about trying a Hurricane made from real ingredients one day – I might just do that.
Pat O'Brien's 624 Bourbon St New Orleans, LA W-Th,Su: 12 PM - 12 AM F-Sa: 12 PM - 2 AM
Pralines are sweet confections of nuts in a caramelized sugar base. In France, these are rather hard, closer to brittle and typically based on almonds. In America, pralines are made with a combination of sugar, butter and cream, milk or half and half and typically pecan based. They are closer to a nutty fudge than a candy.
The New Orleans School of Cooking makes their pralines on site, and they generously offer you samples. They have both plain and a chocolate kind. I preferred the plain but they were too sweet for my taste. I also didn’t really like how soft they were. We bought a couple, but I never actually felt tempted to eat them. Still, if you like fudge and pecans, you’ll probably like them.
Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
Wherein we discovered that Po-Boys are just subs
I had meant my trip to New Orleans to be a foodie trip of sorts, and I wanted to make sure we tried most of the most typical dishes of the city, a rather hard task for a two day trip as there are many. One of them are po’boy sandwiches. I had had po’boys before, at different restaurants in California, but I was never quite clear as to what exactly they were. Well, it turns out that they are just a version the New Orleans version of sub sandwiches: hot sandwiches served in half-loaves of French bread. There are different stories as to where they got the po’boy name in New Orleans and clearly different ways to spell its “poor boy” name. The most famous po’boys in New Orleans are generally those featuring oysters or shrimp/crawfish (the latter are basically just fresh water shrimp), but they can have almos any filling you can imagine. Johnny’s Po-Boys probably has one of the most extensive selection of po-‘boys in New Orleans. They also serve seafood platters and New Orleans specialties such as jambalaya and red beans and rice.
Johnny’s Po-Boys is a very casual eatery. It’s the oldest family-owned po’boy restaurant in New Orleans, now in its eight decade of existence. It features a handful of tables covered with plastic tablecloths and a counter where you order your po’boy. It gets pretty busy at lunch time. Prices are pretty high, from the mid-teens to low twenties for a sandwich. But this is the French Quarter and they mostly cater to tourists.
I wasn’t yet hungry enough for lunch, so Mike ordered a Vodoo Shrimp po’boy for himself ($20) with lettuce (and additional 25-cents!). He thought it was awesome. It had a generous amount of shrimp and a very tasty, and only slightly spicy, sauce. He gave it a 10/10, which is extremely unusual for him. He would definitely order it again.
Johny's Po-Boys 511 St Louis St New Orleans, LA Th-Su 8 AM - 3:30 PM
Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
It turns out beignets are not for us.
New Orleans is famous many dishes, with savory and sweet, but among the latter beignets reign supreme – at least, among tourists. I can only imagine that it’s the fun of eating a pastry that is guaranteed to cover you and everything around you with powdered sugar that makes them so appealing. And fun they are, even if they otherwise were rather disappointing.
Among the establishments serving beignets in the French Quarter, the two most prominent ones are Cafe du Monde, which has been selling beignets since 1862, and Café Beignet, a mere 30 year old restaurant which makes up for its youth by having actually four different branches in the city. We visited the one on Decatur St. for breakfast our first morning in New Orleans, though we twice stopped at the one on Bourbon Street to rest our feet and listen to some live Jazz. The garden at the latter site is glorious.
The Café Beignet branch on Decatur Street has a fun dining room, somewhat evocative of la Belle Époque. The wooden bar is beautiful. Outdoors, there are only a couple of tables on the sidewalk by the restaurant. It’s not particularly picturesque, but it allows you to people watch as you eat.
You order at the counter, and food is brought to your table. The menu consists of omelettes, sandwiches, breakfast items and Creole specialties like jambalaya and crawfish etouffee. And, of course, beignets and other pastries. They have a bunch of coffee dishes, but not fresh orange juice.
I’m not a breakfast eater myself, so I ordered the beignets ($4.50 for 3). These were relatively large squares of fried dough covered with powdered sugar. As the powdered sugar is the same everywhere, it was all about the fried dough. And this fried dough was not great. It was dense and chewy and not particularly flavorful on its own (thus the need for powdered sugar). Basically, they were heavy – and the last thing you want in the morning is a heavy piece of fried dough. I ate a beignet and sort of nibbled on the second one. Mike took a bite, and was done.
Apparently, the problem with New Orleans beignets is that they are made from a leavened dough instead of the choux pastry used in France. The latter makes them far lighter and enjoyable.
Mike ordered the Andouille sausage omelette ($12), which came with grits and a slice of French bread. Miked liked it. The sausage was very tasty, spicy and flavorful, and it was well mixed with the omelette. The omelette was on the small side, but it wasn’t very expensive. The grits and herbed toasted bread was a disconcerting choice – Mike would have preferred a biscuit.
Café Beignet 600 Decatur Street New Orleans, Louisiana M-Th 8am-6pm F-Su 8am-8pm
Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
The Muffulettas are as good as you heard.
Napoleon Houseis one of those “must go to” restaurants when you visit the French Quarter. Not only is it famous for its muffulettas – a sandwich invented in New Orleans, albeit at an Italian deli, not here -, but it’s located in a beautiful, historical home that convenes in one place the whole spirit of the French Quarter, itself a magical place.
As the story goes, the house was originally built in 1797 and enlarged in 1814 for Nicholas Girod, then mayor of New Orleans. A large three story brick building with plaster covered walls, the house reflects French architectural influences with its hipped roof , dormers and French doors and Spanish ones, as shown in its internal patio and wrought iron balconies. In 1821, Girod seems to have devised a plan to rescue Napoleon, who was then on exile in the island of St. Helena after his defeat at Waterloo, and bring him to live in this home. While Napoleon died before Girod could undertake this scheme, the house inherited Napoleon’s name. In 1914, Italian immigrant Joe Impastato turned it into a bar and the business slowly evolved into the restaurant it is today.
And a beautiful restaurant it is. The smallish, dark dining rooms still display those discolored stucco plastered walls, evoking a long ago feeling. They are decorated with old pictures and Napoleon memorabilia, and you can imagine yourself plotting up a secret mission or a pirate raid on its tables. The patio, where we didn’t eat, is more conventionally beautiful and relaxing, though it still conveys an old world feeling.
Napoleon House is a casual place with a casual menu. It serves salads and sandwiches, with a few ubiquitous appetizers and sides. Like most restaurants in New Orleans, it offers beers and wines as well as local cocktails. They are particularly known for their Pimm’s No.1 drinks, though I didn’t realize that until later, so we didn’t try them.
What I did have was the muffuletta – or at least a quarter of one ($8.5). It wasn’t until we got to the restaurant that we realized we weren’t that hungry after all, and we wanted a light dinner. A quarter of a muffuletta seemed perfect – in particular, because I was very apprehensive about them. A muffuletta is a sandwich of deli meats and cheeses typically covered with a thick layer of olive salad. Neither Mike nor I are fans of olives, so we were afraid we wouldn’t like it. Watching the videos of how they’re made at Central Grocery & Deli, the place where they were invented, I still think that’s likely to be the case there, but the one at Napoleon House was just perfect. It had enough olives to give the sandwich a kick, but not enough to actually taste them individually. At Napoleon House, the muffulettas are served hot and the melted cheese deliciously brought the whole sandwich together. In all, it was a delicious sandwich and just the right size for my light hunger. I’d definitely have it again.
Mike ordered the Boudin sausage ($8) which was served with bread and mustard. I was surprised that it wasn’t a blood sausage – I usually think of that when I hear “boudin” – but in Louisiana, a “boudin” sausage typically refers to one made of pork and rice. This gives the sausage a disconcerting soft texture, but it had a pretty good flavor. Mike liked it though he wasn’t awed by it.
For dessert, I tried a New Orleans classic: chocolate Doberge Cake ($8). This consists of a multi layer chocolate cake with chocolate pudding filling. I wasn’t thrilled with it. It just tasted like your typical, overly dry chocolate cake. Warming it up and adding ice cream might have helped, but as it was, it was a waste of carbs.
As we didn’t know about the Primm’s, Mike ordered a Sazerac with absinthe ($13), another traditional New Orleans cocktail. Alas, he didn’t really enjoy it, and it was too strong and bitter for me to do anything more than taste it. This doesn’t mean it wasn’t a great Sazerac, but it was enough to make it our first and last experience with the drink.
We had no complaints about service, and we didn’t feel any pressure to leave even though I think we stayed until closing time. In all, I’d recommend Napoleon House to anyone visiting the French Quarter.
Napoleon House 500 Chartres Street New Orleans, LA (504) 524-9752 Su-Th 11am-10pm F-Sa: 11am-11pm
Chasing the Eclipse: Gastronomic Notes from a Trip to New Orleans and Dallas.
A decent blue cheese burger & an unmemorable salad at San Diego International Airport
No one goes to an airport to eat, but flight schedules sometimes make you have to rely on whatever food you can find at the airport for substance – particularly if you’re flying a no-frills airline which doesn’t even offer meals for purchase. While in recent decades airplane food has gotten better, it’s usually disappointing and overpriced. Our recent experience having lunch at the San Diego International Airport might have been that, if we hadn’t come with lowered expectations. As it happened, the burger I had The Counter was decent enough.
The Counter is a small gourmet burger chain that has a smattering of locations across the US – including at three different airports. I used to visit the Fremont location back in the day, before gourmet burgers were even a thing, and I was a fan of their fare. So I was happy to see they had a branch near the Southwest gates in Terminal 1 at the San Diego airport, where we stopped on our way to New Orleans. For better or worse, our plane was late, which gave us time to eat before we embarked.
I had the blue cheese burger. On its website, The Corner describes the Beef & Blue burger as having “danish blue cheese, organic mixed greens, tomatoes, bacon onion jam, garlic aioli, brioche bun” and it might, indeed, have had all that, though I don’t remember the tomatoes. The burger was fairly good. The beef patty itself was dry and overcooked, but the blue cheese sauce was fantastic, it almost made up for any deficiencies on the meat. The burger was expensive, I think upwards of $16, but it was quite large, I had trouble finishing it. For an airport burger it was as good as it gets.
Mike ordered a salad. He doesn’t remember what salad it was, but you can see it in the photo. He thought it was OK. He didn’t rave about it at the time, but I don’t remember him complaining either. It was just an unmemorable salad.
Still, for an airport dining experience, this was fine.
The Counter San Diego International Airport 13225 N Harbor Dr Terminal 1 San Diego, CA
There is no reason why these corn puffs should be soooo addictive
I hate Shirakiku curvee Corn Puffs, the cheeto-like puffs, with a strange, artificial corn potage flavor Mike has been getting from Grocery Outlet. The puffs are extremely addictive. You can be fully committed to eat just one, but before you know it, the whole package will be gone. And it might be a good thing that it is, because once open, they go flat within a day, absorbing humidity you didn’t even know existed in relatively dry California. But they seem to travel directly from your mouth to your blood stream, increasing blood glucose levels to previously unknown possibilities.
The worst part about these chips is that they don’t actually taste good. I don’t think that anyone who pops one into their mouth will be wowed by their flavor. Cheetos are far tastier. It’s hard to describe Curvee corn puffs, particularly if you’ve never had Japanese style corn potage before, but they do taste somewhat of bouillion powder, albeit they’re sweeter and less salty. And yet, their addictiveness cannot be denied.
