Latil’s Landing
No other historic river plantation matches Houmas House for beauty, accommodations, or food. Longtime chef Jeremy Langois, encouraged by plantation owner Kevin Kelly, puts forth magnificent dinners in Latil’s Landing, one of the oldest parts of the 1700s-era main house. Nothing gets him fired up like a special occasion, and the Revillion is right up his alley. It’s a six-course repast, best preceded by a tour of the gardens, and followed by checking into one of the cottages for the night. Houmas House is some distance from both Baton Rouge or New Orleans, and driving back home is not a good idea.
$100
Louisiana Oyster Stew
Savory tart shell
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Curried Pumpkin Bisque
Crawfish & corn
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Potato Chip-Crusted Grouper
Crawfish & corn
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Cosmopolitan Sorbet
Cranberry sorbet topped with vodka l’orange
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Marinated Loin of Lamb
Celery root, potato purée, braised Swiss chard, roasted golden beets & locally made root beer demi-glace
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Plantation Bread Pudding
River Parishes: In Houmas House Plantation. 225-473-9380.
FULL REVIEW
All the Reveillon menus can be perused here. We’ll feature one every day throughout the Reveillon season, which runs in most of the Reveillon restaurants until December 31.The snowflake ratings are for the Reveillon menu, not the restaurant in general. Dishes marked with the symbol » are my recommendations.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014.
Two Strikes And I’m At Vincent’s.
My first attempt at dinner is at Bucktown Burgers and Seafood. I’m stopped halfway across the room by a man who is either the manager or the owner. He has bad news. I can’t eat here tonight because there’s some utilities problem in the kitchen, and they’re unable to cook. If I’d like to stay for a drink, I would be welcome, and if not, please come again.
Seems fair enough.
I roll down to West Esplanade and take it to just past Causeway Boulevard, where the new location of Bistro Orleans beckons. The come-hither act is clearly working, because their part of the parking lot is full. Inside are a few open tables, but something tells me that the balance between customers and servers may not be at equilibrium. This is the sort of thing that happens in new and newly-relocated restaurants so often that one must expect it. I don’t want to see this place on an off-night so soon. I’ll return here, too, another night.
I stay on West Esplanade until I’m just over Transcontinental. I wonder why that road is so named. I remember bicycling most of its length to go to work at the Time Saver in the summer of 1966. Most of Transcontinental was gravel at that time. I think Transcontinental is the longest one-word street name in the area. It’s two letters longer than Tchoupitoulas.
Once past that curiosity, I have to choose between Austin’s and Vincent’s for dinner. I see Austin’s first and it looks very busy. I make the turn and see a nearly-full parking lot at Vincent’s. But someone is backing out of a space, and I feel the need to fill it.
Vincent Catalanotto himself is there, managing the dining room. That’s unusual. He’s a late-night kind of guy, and I rarely see him here. He gives me a bigger and better table than I deserve. But we’re old friends, going back to 1977, when the two of us worked in the same restaurant. Romanoff’s, where Andy’s Bistro is now. I was working on an article about the waiter’s life. Vincent was living it for real.
It’s cold outside, and what tipped my decision is the appeal of a cup of Vincent’s hot Italian chicken soup. “I don’t know why anybody orders that,” he tells me, as I order it. “It’s chicken and vegetables. Soup. Big deal. People love it.” I love it, although it could have been hotter. Two days in a row that’s happened to me.
“Get the Roma,” Vincent says. This is his version of a baby artichoke breaded and fried, with a sauce of olive oil, herbs and garlic. It is incredibly good under the name “Rose Of Sicily” at the Uptown Vincent’s. “They open it up over there,” Vincent says. “I leave it whole. You get less breading. Theirs looks better but this one tastes better.” I like both.
I have a salad with the blue cheese vinaigrette that everyone seems to like more than I do. For an entree, I have a parmesan-crusted redfish, recommended with enthusiasm by both Vincent and the waiter. And it is very good indeed. Big, too. Vincent’s is a four-star restaurant with two-star prices.
Vincent tells me that a man at a table in the next room would like me to stop by and say hello. “He has something to do with Rummel,” Vincent adds. “Did you go to Rummel?” he asks. “I thought you went to Jesuit.” I did. Rummel is where I went after they threw me out of Jesuit, a career I share with at least five guys I know.
The man who asked me to come over does indeed have something to do with Archbishop Rummel High School. It’s Brother Gale Condit, the president of Rummel, and a personal friend for many years. I tell him to be careful what he says to me, because I am just back from Manresa and feeling very powerful. He is with some other friends. They are in real estate, among other things.
We have a fine time telling funny stories. I am invited to join this threesome for dinner for a fundraiser in the near future. I’ve done it before, so why not?
Vincent’s. Metairie 3: Houma Blvd To Kenner Line: 4411 Chastant St. 504-885-2984.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014.
Wheel, No Tire. Thanksgiving Cooking Begins.
I call the car dealer to ask whether there is any sign of the new wheel for my car. I can’t drive the car without it. One of my radio listeners told me that my car was notorious for rotting wheels, and that I should be able to find a complete set for less than what I paid for one. I’m not sure I needed to hear that. I am about to ask the service guy about itt, when he says that my wheel did indeed turn up this morning. They would mount the tire from the old one and I would be back in business.
It was not to be, however. The tire for the bad wheel seems to have caught a disease from the wheel, and won’t hold air on the new rim. Of course, no tire that size is available at hand. It will ship out tonight, and be installed Friday.
Thanksgiving is between that plan’s elements, so it doesn’t matter much to me. I will be in the kitchen pretty much non-stop from the time the radio show ends today until the mountain range of dirty dishes and trash is pushed up against the north wall. And I have a three-hour radio show Thanksgiving morning, just to make sure that no slack time works its way into my life.
I really don’t have all that much to do. The most time-consuming job is making the cheesecake. That’s four hours, if I’m lucky. I am stymied at first by the absence of cream cheese and of sour cream. Mary Leigh makes a store run and comes home with the house brand of cream cheese from Fresh Market. I find it terrible, with a gooey consistency. I have made this mistake before. The original Philly from Kraft is the only way to go.
The sour cream presented a bigger problem. When I grab a container from in back of the refrigerator (where Mary Ann directed me), I found it open and covered with bright pink color. It’s sour cream mold. Yes, it’s possible for sour cream to go bad. Not something you want to eat. I find another container of sour cream, this one with the top seal intact. But it’s expired for months. I decide to go with it. It wasn’t a problem, but it did add to my stress level. Never again!
I make the ham glaze, using the last of a two-liter of flat Barq’s. I have been looking forward to this moment for many months. Now that thing is off the pantry floor, after who knows how long.
Then I brine the turkey. It’s a fourteen-pound fresh turkey from Fresh Market. I pour the brine into the plastic roasting bag, with the turkey already inside. For the first time in all the years I’ve done this, the bag springs a leak. No problem. I put it into the plastic bucket I have ready for exactly this eventuality. I dump some ice over the top, snap the lid shut, then put the apparatus out on the picnic table on the deck outside. It’s only going down to about fifty tonight, but the turkey will remain safely cold. (Indeed, the next morning, the ice is still unmelted.) Besides, we have nothing like room in the refrigerator for a turkey.
The cheesecake cooled faster than normal–maybe because I made it wider and less thick than usual. I am in bed by ten-thirty. All is ready for another Thanksgiving at the Cool Water Ranch.
Suis Generis
Bywater & Downtown: 3219 Burgundy St. 504-309-7850. Map.
Casual.
AE MC V
Website
WHY IT’S NOTEWORTHY
Restaurants so often drive neighborhood change. Suis Generis is one of a grassroots crop of eateries that sprung up in the past few years in the Bywater. That’s a sign that this red-hot real estate neighborhood is becoming a destination for visitors as well as locals. Suis Generis dishes the kind of eclectic charm and interesting fare that fits the Bywater perfectly. The cocktail specials are stellar, served in cool vintage barware and priced to fit a starving artist’s budget.
WHAT’S GOOD
The way the menu works here is unusual in that each chef in a rotating roster change the menu weekly. It all depends on what good stuff comes through the back door. Expect dishes with a global reach, a little on the crunchy side. House-pickled veggies and a mezze platter of cheese, salami and olives get things started. A vegan paella, featured on a recent menu from chef Zack Lemann, is a perfect example of the range. If there’s a chill in the air, the excellent coq au vin will warm your heart’s cockles. Even with that chill, order the homemade ice cream–rocky road if they have it. Portions are sizable, even though prices are moderate.
BACKSTORY
Before Katrina, owners Ernest Foundas and Adrienne Bell were looking to open their notion of what the ideal restaurant should be. Foundas is an attorney and an industrial designer, and he had plans for the Bywater building in which they live upstairs. The hurricane changed the plans, and after a re-renovation, the restaurant opened in 2012. The name Suis Generis is Latin for “in its own category,” with the “s” at the end of “suis” added by mistake. It would be correct in French, which somehow seems right.
DINING ROOM
This intimate spot had me when I looked at the ceiling. Look up, and you see the backlit insides of hundreds of red Solo plastic cups. The effect is groovy. Same goes for the glass-enclosed faux fireplace, the logs appearing to burn. They cast ambient light on the booths that line one wall. A changing display of local art adds graphic eye appeal. Un-self-consciously at the intersection of quirky and eclectic, funky bits like salt and pepper shakers attached to toy cars are everywhere. The bathroom is papered with vintage vamp and Bruce Lee pinups. Check out the riff on the usual restroom icon–hermaphrodites welcome here.
ESSENTIAL DISHES
The entire menu changes from week to week. This is a good sampling of what winds up on it.
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Starters
»Scallop en brochette taquito, mirliton chimichurri sauce
Mirliton mushroom leek risotto
MRGO salad
»Oyster mirliton gratin, brie, parmesan, fresh herbs
»Mezze plate (cheeses and salumi)
»Pickle plate
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Entrees
»Coq au vin
»Sautéed Canadian wild caught salmon, chili cinnamon rub
Prime ribeye steak, fire grilled, acorn squash & garlic bread
Jumbo shrimp, mirliton & pepper pasta
»Vegan paella
»Chicken curry arepas, sautéed spinach
Thursday is Taco Night, with a large menu of options.
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Desserts
Southern cheesecake, fresh berries
»House-made ice creams
Basil coconut rice pudding, bruleed brown sugar, anise topping
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Sat.-Sun. Brunch
»Breakfast burritos, chorizo, avocado, Honduran cheese
Eggs Bahia (over easy, wilted spinach, sausage, black beans
Omelettes to order
Hakshuka (Israeli poached eggs, tomato, garlic, feta, spinach)
Pancake of the moment, fresh fruit, walnut maple syrup
FOR BEST RESULTS
Try as many of the smaller dishes as you can – they are always inventive and mostly delicious and portions are ample. If salmon is on the menu, order it – the kitchen cooks it perfectly.
OPPORTUNITIES FOR IMPROVEMENT
Our server was sweet but tended to disappear. If loud bothers you, call ahead to find out if the occasional band is playing. A recent visit found a band playing a soundtrack of surf music meets Johnny Quest that was ear splitting in the small space. The dim ambient light is generous to aging faces but makes it tricky to see your food.
FACTORS OTHER THAN FOOD
Up to three points, positive or negative, for these characteristics. Absence of points denotes average performance in the matter.
Dining Environment +2
Consistency +1
Service -1
Value +2
Attitude +1
Wine & Bar +1
Hipness +1
Local Color +1
FULL ONLINE MENU
Bouillabaisse New Orleans Style
Save this recipe for the day when you find yourself with a surplus of whole fresh fish. If you never have such a day, make crab or shrimp stock instead of the fish stock. The best fish to use, both for the stock and the big pieces that will make their way into the soup, are redfish, red snapper, drum, grouper, and lemonfish. For something outrageously good, use pompano. No catfish, escolar, salmon, or tuna.
I know that this is a long recipe, but it’s not especially difficult. It will, however, blow the minds of those to whom you serve it.
Stock ingredients:
Bones, heads, and scraps from 5-8 lbs. fish (see above), livers and gills removed
Top four inches of a bunch of celery, cut up
Stems from 1 bunch parsley
1 onion, cut up
1 Tbs. black peppercorns
1 tsp. thyme
Main recipe ingredients:
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 large onion, chopped coarsely
1 fennel bulb, chopped coarsely
6 large cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper
2 medium fresh tomatoes, skin, seeds, and pulp removed, chopped coarsely
2 canned whole Italian plum tomatoes, chopped
1/2 cup juice from canned tomatoes
2/3 cup Sauvignon Blanc or other dry white wine
1 large bay leaf
2 lbs. white fish (see above), cut into 1-2 oz. pieces
1/2 pound squid, sliced into rings (optional)
Pinch saffron threads
16 large shrimp, peeled except for tails (or take them off too)
4 dozen mussels in shells, well scrubbed and de-bearded
1/2 lb. lump crabmeat (optional)
2 green onions, sliced fine
8 sprigs flat-leaf parsley, leaves only, chopped
1 tsp. salt
Toasted French bread rounds
1/2 cup Spicy Garlic Mayonnaise
1. Put all the fish bones, heads, skins, and scraps into a stockpot and cover with cold water. Bring it to a boil, then dump the water, saving all the fish parts.
2. Refill the pot with just enough water to barely cover the fish parts. Add all the other stock ingredients, and bring to the lightest possible simmer, with bubbles breaking only occasionally. Hold the stock at that temperature, uncovered, for about 30 minutes. Skim off the scum.
3. Strain the stock and discard all the solids. Return to the slow simmer while you work on the rest of the recipe.
3. In another large kettle, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat until fragrant. Add the onions, fennel, garlic, and crushed red pepper. Sauté until the onions are clear, but don’t brown. Add the fresh and canned tomatoes and juice. Sauté another minute, then add the wine and bring to a boil. Hold at a medium boil for about three minutes, then lower the heat to medium.
4. Reserve 3/4 cup of the fish stock, and add all the rest to the vegetables. Add the fish pieces and the squid, and return to a simmer.
5. Put the reserved fish stock into a skillet and bring to a boil. Add the mussels to the pan and cook for about a minute, by which time all of them should be gaping. Discard any mussels that have not opened. Turn the heat off and allow to cool, while agitating the pan so that the stock sloshes inside the mussels. Remove the mussels to a bowl. If any of the mussels appear to have grit or beard inside, clean them. Strain the liquid from the pan and the bowl through a fine sieve into the kettle.
6. Add the saffron and the shrimp to the kettle and cook for about a minute. Add the crabmeat, mussels, salt, and green onions and cook for another minute, agitating the pot to distribute the ingredients. Add salt and cayenne pepper to taste.
7. Divide the seafood equally among four to six bowls, and ladle the broth and vegetables over everything. Garnish with fresh chopped parsley. Serve with toasted French bread round slices spread with spicy garlic mayonnaise.
Serves four to six.
Heirloom Beet Salad With Goat Cheese @ Christopher’s On Carey
Salads made with fresh beets–usually raised on farm in the nearby vicinity of New Orleans–have become very popular in recent years. This one is a standout, with several kinds of beets (not just red ones but orange and striped). The arugula, pistachios and sherry vinaigrette add levels of crispness, and the goat cheese smoothes all the flavors out.
Christopher’s On Carey. Slidell: 2228 Carey St. 985-641-4501.
This is among the 500 best dishes in New Orleans area restaurants. Click here for a list of the other 499.
December 3, 2014
Days Until
Christmas–22
New Year’s Eve–28
Food Through History
King Charles VI was born to rule France today in 1368. He raised court cuisine to new high, largely by hiring Guillaume Tirel to run the royal kitchen. Tirel became known simply as Taillevent, and published the first major French cookbook. One of the most famous restaurants in Paris bears Taillevent’s name.) It was during the rule of Charles VI that Roquefort cheese gained its recognition as a special food because of the place it came from–the first appellation-controlled substance.
Annals Of Indigestion
Today is the birthday, in 1931, of Alka-Seltzer. It’s aspirin combined with sodium bicarbonate (the chemical name for baking soda). The claim was that the effervescence got the pain-relieving ingredient into the parts of the body that needed it faster. Maybe. Water–of which you drink a glassful to take an Alka-Seltzer–also helps a headache, and the bicarbonate has a soothing effect on the stomach. Alka-Seltzer went on to recommended itself as a cold remedy, but that may go a little far. Still a good product, and it gave rise in the 1960s to Fizzies, which were the same kind of tablet but with fruit flavors instead of aspirin.
The Old Kitchen Sage Sez:
If you think you need an Alka-Seltzer, try a club soda first and see if that doesn’t do the job.
Annals Of Home Economics
The founder of the science of homemaking, Ellen Swallow Richards, was born today in 1842. She was an accomplished scientist, and the first woman student and first woman teacher at MIT. She felt that women who stayed home to rear children should know enough science to be able to run their households more effectively.
Today’s Flavor
Today is National Apple Pie Day. Apple pie, as American a dessert as can be imagined, is in a period of decline right now. Think about it: when is the last time you ate a slice of apple pie? In New Orleans, most pies on restaurant menus are either pecan or sweet potato pies. Other than chain restaurants, I can’t think of five restaurants that routinely serve apple pie anymore.
Here’s why. Apple pie is perceived as very sweet, and the crust is traditionally made with trans-fats. On top of that (literally), the temptation to top the pie with ice cream is hard to resist. That adds up to more calories, perhaps, than the entire remainder of the meal.
But a good apple pie–made with fresh, firm, slightly acidic fruit and a light crust–is a wonderful thing. And there’s no reason we have to maintain the sticky-sweet style that was in vogue during the 1940s and 1950s. A great apple pie will be baked on the premises–although you wouldn’t believe how many upper-end restaurants just take their pies out of a box.
The greatest mystery concerning apple pie is how the practice of topping a hot apple pie with a slice of American cheese ever got started. It makes no sense from any perspective.
Gourmet Gazetteer
Nutmeg Creek comes tumbling down from the High Sierras into the Feather River, as the latter cuts a gorge through the mountains on its way into California’s Central Valley. The creek ends at a spot about ninety-four miles north of Sacramento, and just above Lake Oroville, formed by a dam on the Feather. This is dramatically beautiful country, with Feather Falls not far from there. But the nearest dining is in the well named River Restaurant in Oroville, twenty-seven miles away.
Deft Dining Rule #707:
Beware of apple pies served from thin, disposable plastic pans. That’s a sign that the pie came into the restaurant completely finished. If the pie is in a solid metal pan, they probably baked it in house.
Edible Dictionary
stollen, [SHTOLE-un], German, n.–A dense, somewhat dry, slightly sweetened bread baked during the Christmas holidays in Germany and other places with a German heritage. Stollen are usually made to resemble bread loaves, although the variety of shapes is broad. It bears some resemblance to fruitcakes in that it’s made with dried fruits and citrus peels, but the flavor is really different. Stollen are traditionally covered with a snow-like dusting of powdered sugar. Because of its heavy texture and dryness, it’s often served with coffee or tea for dunking.
Food In The Theatre
A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams’s most successful play (it won a Pulitzer Prize, too), premiered on Broadway today in 1947. It made an instant star of Marlon Brando, who played Stanley. His love interest, Stella, was played by Kim Hunter. Those two characters inspired the naming of Chef Scott Boswell’s restaurants, the five-star Stella! and the less ambitious soda fountain Stanley.
Food Namesakes
Toi Cook, pro football cornerback, kicked off his life today in 1964. . . Green Berry Raum, a Union general in the Civil War, was born today with his double food name in 1829. . . Pro wrestler Ray Candy began acting out today in 1951. . . John and Greg Rice, twin dwarves, were born today in 1951. They had a successful career in infomercials.
Words To Eat By
“Good apple pies are a considerable part of our domestic happiness.”–Jane Austen.
“If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.”–Carl Sagan.
“If all the world were apple pie,
And all the seas were ink,
And all the trees were bread and cheese,
What would we have for drink?”–Mother Goose.
Words To Drink By
“I know how the nuts taken in conjunction with winter apples, cider, and doughnuts, make old people’s tales and old jokes sound fresh and crisp and enchanting.”–Mark Twain.
What’s Always In My Refrigerator.
One slice. Just one, never more. Dried up, cold, and of dubious taste. A twin of the one in your refrigerator. But I will probably eat it anyway.
Click here for the cartoon.