Wednesday, January 21, 2015.
Eat Club At Andrea’s On Its 30th Anniversary.
The record of our Eat Club dinners is not perfect. After twenty-two years of dinners at the average rate of three per month, it would be a miracle if there were no off-courses, stumblebum service, misunderstandings, and even total disasters along the way.
But the dinners that have given me the most pause are the many we’ve had at Andrea’s. Which when it’s good is very, very good. But when it’s bad, it’s horrid. After the last one three years ago, I said there would never be another.
Chef Andrea.
But Chef Andrea Apuzzo, to his credit, is a man who can forget the past and insist on moving ahead, and trying to make everything good. After a year of cajoling, leading up to the thirtieth anniversary of his restaurant, I finally caved in and we went ahead with the dinner.
What pushed me into it was the news that Chef Christiano Rossit–whose food I have enjoyed in other restaurants, notably Mr. John’s Steak House–is the chef de cuisine at Andrea’s these days. I have suggested for years that Andrea hire such a talent and get out of the kitchen, and spend his time during service visiting tables and glad-handing his regulars–something he does so well as to make him endearing.
After three back-and-forth negotiations over the menu, I began promoting it, hoping for the best. The first fifty people bought in rather quickly. Andrea wanted to take another fifteen or so, but that has been the source of problems in the past, and I cut it off at fifty.
When I arrived at six, I met up with a young woman who produces video features. She wanted to interview me on the subject of the poor boy sandwich and its history. She is a native of the Czech Republic and now lives in New Orleans. I don’t know how that will figure into her piece. But my wife Mary Ann–who is planning to visit Prague in the near future (don’t ask)–had a good time talking with her.
Eat Club assembling at Andrea’s.
That done, I moved to the big private dining room, where most of the Eat Club’s fifty were already assembled. Waiters were passing around three appetizers: tuna tartare with pepperoncini aioli on fried pasta chips, fried cheese ravioli with red sauce, and dates stuffed with Gorgonzola cheese. I was able to score only the tuna item, which must have been the best of the three. The waiters were hard for me to corner while they still had food on their trays, but that may have been because of the number of people who moved in on me to say hello.
We sat down for crab and corn bisque, with the crabmeat on the side in an Asian-style ceramic spoon. The foamy cream cappuccino aspect was lost on me, but it’s hard to make a creamy crab bisque that is less than delicious.
Next came a little salad with beets. It would have been better if it had been bigger; the three bites of beet left me wanting more, and the spring mix salad was, as always, hard to spear with a fork.
Trout and shrimp at Eat Club at Andrea’s.
The best dish of the night came next. Speckled trout is running very nice right now. It came out with a sauce of big grilled shrimp and leeks in a citrus butter sauce. The sauce made the dish. When I asked about it, Andrea said that it’s always been on the menu, although I can’t remember having had it before. I will come in for a full portion. This one–two bites of trout, one shrimp, with what looked like some kind of stuffing underneath–made me want for more.
By this time we have several wines to talk about. The Ruffino Prosecco was bubbly and mellow and nice with the appetizers. Andrea’s own white wine–he really does grow it on his family’s land in his native Capri–was crisp and good with the crab and the trout. Somewhere on the list was Orvieto, a nice old name from a charming Southern Italian town. I never got a taste of that, but I accept the blame. I move from table to table all night, and it’s easy for the waiters to lose track of me.
Entree at the Eat Club.
The main course was something about which I had misgivings, but I couldn’t talk the chef out of it. Three meats–veal medaillion, lamb chop, and a filet mignon, each with its own sauce. The sauces were all great. The meats were cut small to accommodate them on the plate. Unless you’re in an Asian restaurant, the smaller the cut of meat, the less well it cooks. The veal fared best, with its herbal, buttery sauce. The lamb chop and the filet were overcooked. A single piece of any one of these would have been twice as good as all three.
However, as I made the rounds of the other tables, I found no complaints about the food, the service, or the wine. What surprised me most was a frequent Eat Clubber who complains about everything had not a single gripe about anything. He just loved the whole dinner.
I gave a sigh of relief and spent the rest of the evening socializing. A lot of interesting folks were here. I was especially fascinated by a conversation I had with John Mmahat, who cropped up in some articles I wrote back in my Figaro and New Orleans Magazine days.
The dessert was an elegant finish–an old-style champagne glass (the wide kind) filled with a zabaglione as light as a cloud. It was sheer delight to eat. I’ve never had better, or more elegantly presented.
An unexpected surprise was the presence of Phil Melancon, who played his piano all night long in the background, then started cutting up with his funny songs with their references to elements of the local culture. I tried to sing with him, but as usual it didn’t work out. He plays in keys so uncomfortable for me that I can’t wedge my way in. I wish I were a real musician.
Andrea gave everyone a coffee mug and a bag of French Market Coffee as a reverse gift on his anniversary. Smiles were on all faces.
Now he’s going to want me to do another one.
Andrea’s. Metairie: 3100 19th St. 504-834-8583.
Seafood Lasagna
Lasagna is all about layering, and nothing in that concept says that red sauce, meat, or even cheese needs to be between the pasta. Emboldened by that thought, I make this lasagna out of the seafood in season. It is necessarily rich. It’s also better made with fewer layers than a standard lasagna. It works best as a preliminary course–say, before the osso buco.
1 cup dry white wine
2 sprigs Italian parsley
2 bay leaves
6 black peppercorns
1/2 carrot, sliced
1/2 onion, cut up
1 Tbs. salt
1 1/2 lbs. fillets of fresh, flaky fish (recommended: redfish, flounder, sole, sheepshead)
1 lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined, 21-25 count per pound
1 lb. crabmeat
1 quart fresh oysters
10 oz. fresh scallops
Sauce:
2 Tbs. olive oil
1/4 cup chopped French shallots
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 Tbs. flour
1 1/2 cups whipping cream
1 Tbs. dill weed
1/4 tsp. Worcestershire
2 dashes Tabasco
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. white pepper
1 lb. lasagna noodles, cooked al dente (or not, if the no-cook kind)
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1. In a large skillet, bring a quart of water and the white wine to a low simmer. Add the parsley, bay leaves, peppercorns, carrot, onion, and salt. Let the mixture simmer for five minutes.
2. Poach the fish in the seasoned liquid for six to eight minutes, depending on thickness. It should be almost but not quite flaking apart. Remove and drain the fish. Add the shrimp and poach them until they’re completely pink. Remove and drain. Finally, add the oysters and the scallops. Cook until the edges of the oysters are curly. Remove and drain. Let the scallops cook about another one or two minutes, depending on size. Remove and drain. Strain the poaching liquid and set aside.
3. Break the fish into small pieces. Quarter the scallops and shrimp. Leave the oysters whole.
4. In a large saucepan, heat the olive oil and saute the shallots until lightly browned. Add the wine and bring to a boil, then whisk in the flour.
5. Add the seafood-poaching water and bring to a low boil. Reduce by about half–20 or 30 minutes.
6. Meanwhile, in another saucepan, reduce the cream by about half. Add it to the reduced fish stock. Add dill, Worcestershire, Tabasco, dill, salt and pepper to taste. Reduce the heat to the lowest possible and let it simmer until it’s thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Add all the seafood to the pan, stir lightly, and remove from the heat.
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
7. Coat the bottom of a large glass baking dish about two inches deep with a little olive oil. Cover the bottom with pasta. Using a slotted spoon, spoon about a quarter of the sauce-soaked seafood onto the pasta. Sprinkle about a fifth of the Parmesan cheese over it. Cover with second layer of pasta at right angles to the first layer. Repeat this process to use all the seafood between five layers of pasta, with the last of the cheese and about 1/4 cup of the remaining sauce over the top.
8. Put the lasagna pan inside a bigger pan with enough water to come halfway up the sides of the lasagna pan. Bake at 400 degrees for 45 minutes, until the top browns a bit.
9. Take the lasagna out and allow to cool on the top of the stove for 15-30 minutes.
10. While waiting for the lasagna to cool, heat the remaining sauce over low heat. Make two slices the long way and three to five slices across the lasagna. Serve, with some of the sauce over the top.
Serves eight to twelve.
31-Day Dry-Aged Sirloin Strip @ Doris Metropolitan
In a time when dry-aging of steaks is practiced by fewer and fewer steakhouses, Doris Metropolitan makes bold statements in its glass-walled aging room. It’s right inside the entrance filled with rib roasts, short loins, and strip sirloins covered with a thin, dried-out, perhaps even moldy coating that is the hallmark of dry-aged beef. The flavors that gives the beef are the ultimate for many steak connoisseurs, but it’s not for everybody. (Those who don’t care for it will find an unaged filet.) Also here are some steak cuts so unusual that the place had to invent its own names for them. For those who like adventure, this is the best steakhouse in town.
Bone-in, 31-day aged sirloin strip.
Doris Metropolitan. French Quarter: 620 Chartres St. 504-267-3500.
This is among the 500 best dishes in New Orleans area restaurants. Click here for a list of the other 499.
January 28, 2014
Days Until. . .
Mardi Gras–20
Valentine’s Day–17
Gourmets Through History
Today is the feast day of Charlemagne, the first Holy Roman Emperor. He died on this day in 814, of natural causes, after a great life. He united much of western Europe for the first time since the fall of the Roman Empire, and set a new standard of civilization and government. His dining style was revolutionary, too. At Charlemagne’s banquets, roses were scattered over the tables and guests ate with utensils, not fingers. (The implements were mostly knives, the fork having not yet been invented.) One of the world’s greatest white wines is named for him: Corton Charlemagne, all Chardonnay, big and rich. He wasn’t a saint, but he was beatified.
Gourmet Gazetteer
Parsnip Creek is in the extreme northwest corner of Montana, a mountainous wilderness. Each of its three branches tumble down the slopes of 6139-foot Parsnip Mountain, running about five miles into Lake Koocanoosa. The lake is formed by a dam on the Kootenai River, and crosses the Canadian border. (“Koocanusa” is a made-up name (it won a contest) combining “Kootenai,” “Canada,” and “USA.”) It’s a sixteen-mile, rugged hike from the mouth of Parsnip Creek to Libby, where you can lunch at the Red Dog Saloon.
Today’s Flavor
This is International Lasagna Day. The cold weather likely on this date makes a big casserole dish full of meaty, saucy, cheesy, heartwarming lasagna seem perfect. Lasagna is a long time in the oven–what could be better than a winter day for that?
Like many dishes, lasagna is named for the container in which it is made. In this case, it’s unappetizing. The Greek word from which lasagna descends meant “chamber pot.” The first versions were baked in large, deep dishes. The ingredients and their assembly probably evolved from the many layered, baked casseroles (Greek moussaka is the most familiar) that are still found in the Balkans. Lasagna as we know it–with its layers of cheese, meat, and sauce–is probably not much more than a hundred years old.
However, recently a story broke in England claiming that the dish originated there. This is not entirely incredible, because layered dishes (shepherd’s pie) are also of long standing in the Isles. Here’s the story from the BBC.
The current controversy among cooks of lasagna in America is whether the dry noodles (flat, broad sheets, sometimes wavy at the edges) should be layered into the dish cooked or uncooked. Both seem to work, but we have a better idea: the best lasagna is made with fresh (undried) pasta sheets, uncooked.
Many sources report that today is also Blueberry Pancake Day. Fresh blueberries are completely out of season in America. They are, however, growing nicely and ready to fly or float in from Chile. They’re not even all that expensive. Still, this doesn’t seem like the right day for this. Not even the pancake part. Pancakes are associated with Shrove Tuesday (Mardi Gras to you and me), whose earliest possible date is eight days off.
Edible Dictionary
Crottin de Chavignol, (French) n.–A goat’s milk cheese from the tiny town of Chavignol, in the Loire Valley. Originally, this cheese was made in balls. Their size and the fact that the rind sometimes turned a light brown gives rise to its name, which also means “horse manure.” However, the Crottin you will encounter now is more likely to be made in cylindrical shape, with a white rind. It looks like a taller, smaller Brie. The tiny mushrooms that forms the rind turns brown with a hint of greenish-blue as it ages. A well-aged Crottin de Chavignol is delicious, with a firm, surprisingly crumbly interior and a very full taste. Don’t eat the rind of an old one.
Deft Dining Rule #834:
You should never be able to finish a restaurant serving of lasagna comfortably.
The Old Kitchen Sage Sez:
The perfect lasagna has exactly twice as much cheese–both in kind and in quantity–as it has meat.
Music To Dine By
Today in 1830, Daniel-François-Esprit Auber’s opera Fra Diavolo opened in Paris. It was about a reprobate from Naples bearing the same name as the opera. Fra Diavolo means “brother devil.” It appears on Italian menus as a spicy dish of shellfish (shrimp and lobster, most commonly) and a peppery red sauce.
Annals Of Food Writing
This is the birthday, in 1873, of Sidonie Gabrielle Colette, a French novelist who wrote under her last name alone. She was highly quotable on the subjects of eating, drinking, and loving. Here are a few of her memorable lines:
“The three great stumbling blocks in a girl’s education are homard a l’Americaine, a boiled egg, and asparagus.”
“As he chops, cut, slices, trims, shapes, or threads through the string, a butcher is as good a sight to watch as a dancer or a mime.”
“If you aren’t up to a little magic occasionally, you shouldn’t waste time trying to cook.”
“If I can’t have too many truffles, I’ll do without truffles.”
Food Namesakes
Today in 1945, General “Vinegar” Joe Stilwell reopened the Burma Road from that country to China, a victory in World War II. . . Jackson Pollock, the painter famous for dripping paint on canvases, was born today in 1912. (Pollock is the northern Pacific fish used to make fake crabmeat.). . . Marty Fried, drummer for the 1960s rock band the Cyrkle (who opened for the Beatles when they toured America) was born today in 1944. . . Jan Lamb–Hong Kong stand-up comedian, radio personality, and voice-over artist–bleated his first today in 1967.
Words To Eat By
“Voluptuaries, consumed by their senses, always begin by flinging themselves with a great display of frenzy into an abyss. But they survive, they come to the surface again. And they develop a routine of the abyss: ‘It’s four o clock. At five I have my abyss.'”–Colette, French playwright and author, born today in 1873.
Words To Drink Zinfandel By
“Someone is putting brandy in your bonbons, Grand Marnier in your breakfast jam, Kahlua in your ice cream, Scotch in your mustard and Wild Turkey in your cake.”–Marian Burros, New York Times food writer.
Lingering Flavors Of Seasons Past.
They bring back memories of the happy times, even as you’re about sick of thinking about them.
Click here for the cartoon.