Satsumas Are Here!
Satsumas are showing up at fruit and vegetable stands around town. The lusciously sweet citrus fruits with their easy-to-open skins and discrete sections can’t help but bring a smile. They’re much more green than orange, but that doesn’t keep the juicy sections from being a pleasure.
Satsuma tree, loaded up.
Satsumas are the first citrus fruits of the Louisiana season, and herald the arrival in a month or two of the world’s best oranges. Satsumas are native to the former Satsuma province on the island of Kyushu in Japan, where they seem to have mutated from a kind of orange. They came to this country in 1878, and are better known as mandarins (a reference to their Far Eastern origins) or tangerines. The satsumas in Southeast Louisiana are different from those found in other citrus-growing areas of America, and remain very similar to the original Japanese variety brought here by the Jesuits. Thin skins with large oil pockets are their hallmarks.
Hurricane Isaac in 2012 did some damage to the satsuma trees. The orchards around Chauvin and Cocodrie were slammed by the storm’s surge, and salt water damages and even kills the trees. But there’s no denying the goodness of the ones my daughter and I have enjoyed for the past week or so. Another interesting thing about satsumas is that they’re at the peak of quality almost immediately after the first ones appear. Get them soon. They’re not around long.
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NOMenu invites restaurants or organizations with upcoming special events to tell us, so we might add the news to this free department. Send to news@nomenu.com.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014.
Oktoberfest On Pass Machac.
There’s plenty of evidence that German people have lived in and around New Orleans for over a century and a half. But it’s only this time of year that a the celebration of that culture rises into clear view. Oktoberfest is here, with more restaurants taking part than I can remember.
It was a long time that Middendorf’s served nothing even vaguely resembling German food, despite its German name and forebears. “Catfish City” would have been a better name for the place. But not long after Chef Horst Pfiefer–himself a native German–bought the old (1934) place, he thought Oktoberfest would be just the thing. In years since–if he wasn’t preoccupied with remediating one of the three hurricane-powered floods–it’s been Oktoberfest every year.
This year’s begins tonight, with the New Orleans Eat Club inaugurating five weeks of German specialties at Middendorf’s. We gladly accepted that assignment four previous times. It’s a perfect fit. The chef hosted the very first Eat Club dinner in 1993, when he was the boss at Bella Luna in the French Market.
Today’s eating begins with a remote radio broadcast from the deck of the newest building at Middendorf’s. It overlooks Pass Manchac–one of the boundaries of the historic Isle of Orleans. The Illinois Central Railroad gives us the sight and sound of both the northbound then the southbound trains they call The City Of New Orleans. It’s a pleasant, not-too-warm day, and Horst joins us at length. He talks about the ordeal of taking over a cherished culinary institution without having too many people say that it’s not as good as in the old days.
“We are here twelve years!” he laughs. “If they haven’t gotten used to me by now, they never will.” That doesn’t seem to be a problem. The restaurant was well populated during the broadcast, and on weekends it a continually packed house. Indeed, they’re so busy with the thin-cut fried catfish and all the other specialties that they only offer Oktoberfest on Wednesdays and Thursdays.
Tapping into the first Oktoberfest beer barrel at Middendorf’s.
In the break between the end of the radio show and the arrival of the Eat Clubbers at five-thirty, I park myself at a table and get some diary-keeping done. That went on loinger than expected. Our guests are delayed. A big accident on the I-10–over which most of people had to travel to get to Middendorf’s–has traffic backed up for miles.
Those who manage to get here more or less on time (which is to say an hour late) are around for the tapping of a keg of Oktoberfest beer made by the Abita Brewing Company. I live about two miles from there. I could have rolled out the barrel for them.
A plate of fried seafood before the Oktoberfesting begins.
Then the fried catfish, oysters and soft-shell crabs issue forth from the kitchen. Although this is a German dinner, it’s too much to ask people not to sate their hunger for Middendorf’s signatures. Crab claws, crab cakes, and boiled shrimp are also in the offing. In past years, we had a skiff filled with boiled crabs and shrimp, oysters on the half shell, and more. That was too good a deal back then, but those who remember it are put off by the boat’s absence. Explanation: we only ate half of what was brought out in the early days.
Also among the passed-arround apps (remember when that word meant “small pre-dinner eats”?) are chunks of braised pork belly and some very good little bratwursts with Creole mustard. The Teutonic taste is easing its way in.
Horst Pfiefer.
The first course at the Oktoberfest tables is maultaschen–the Southern German analog of ravioli. These are stuffed with ground pork and very light–almost like Chinese steamed dumplings. It is topped by a little arugula salad. This is the best dish all night.
Second course was a little too coarse. It was thinly-sliced veal wrapped around a stuffing of meat, mushrooms, and herbs. Some people loved it, but I think some servings were assembled with better attention to detail than others. There was a bright spot on this plate, though: schupfnudlen, the German gnocchi, made with potatoes and flour and rolled out to the shape of two-inch-long French breads. All of this had been made by hand, including the schupfnudeln.
The dessert is wonderful and generous: slices of Black Forest cake, apple strudel, and house-made ice cream. The only element missing is Julie Council and her little red accordion, who in past years played the chicken dance and other German songs, both silly and romantic.
The party goes on later than expected, and we don’t leave until after nine. Unfortunately, Mary Ann and I are in separate cars. I have become accustomed to her acting as my chauffeur. (Her idea, not mine.)
Between the ravioli and the gnocchi, we are treated to a marvelous sunset. “At Bella Luna, you saw the moon rise,” Horst says. “At Middendorf’s, we give you a sunset. Free!”
Middendorf’s. Exit 15 off I-55, Manchac. 985-386-6666. Oktoberfest menu available on Wednesday and Thursday evenings through October.
The Bounty
West End Park
1972-1992
There was a spate of new restaurant construction along the west side of West End Park in the mid-1970s. The Bounty was the longest-lived of those. With partners, John Fury created and managed the Bounty in its first decade years. Fury was a longtime operator of neighborhood-style New Orleans restaurants. The menu he assembled at The Bounty included all the fried and broiled fish you could get everywhere in West End. But it went on to include a few Italian dishes of surprising goodness, excellent fried chicken, barbecue shrimp, and a full line of steaks.
The Bounty was a little fancier than most of its competitors in West End Park. No boiled seafood and all the mess that entails. It was the first restaurant at West End Park to pass the $10 barrier for a seafood platter, in 1982. It attracted a reasonably loyal clientele. But West End regulars who wanted a little variety probably thought the place overpriced–at least at first. His style of frying, with a light coating of seasoned flour, may have struck some people as too urbane.
The Bounty’s food wound up outliving the restaurant. John Fury left the Bounty to open Fury’s in Metairie in 1983. He and his family are still cooking most of what he did at The Bounty, including stuffed whole flounders.
Béarnaise
Béarnaise is my favorite sauce. It’s good on almost everything: steaks, fish, fried potatoes, eggs, chicken. . . I could go on. Its finest employment in the Creole arena is in a dish called chicken Pontalba. If you find fresh tarragon or chervil, use twice as much as called for here.
2 Tbs. tarragon or white wine vinegar
2 Tbs. Sauvignon Blanc or other dry white wine
1 Tbs. very finely chopped chives
1 Tbs. dried tarragon
1 1/2 tsp. dried chervil
4 egg yolks
1 Tbs. red wine vinegar
1 3/4 sticks butter, softened
1 tsp. lemon juice
Pinch cayenne
1. Combine the vinegar, wine, chives, tarragon, and chervil in a small glass bowl or cup. Microwave it for four minutes on high. That’s what it takes in my microwave; yours may differ. What you’re trying to do is boil away all but enough liquid to make the herbs wet.
2. Whisk the egg yolks and the vinegar briskly in a metal bowl set over a saucepan with about an inch of simmering water at the bottom. If you see even a hint of curdling in the eggs, take the bowl off the heat, but keep whisking. Keep going back and forth from the heat until the mixture turns thick and lightens in color. Whisk in a tablespoon of warm water.
3. Begin adding the softened butter, a tablespoon or so at a time. After about a fourth of the butter is in there, you’ll begin to see a change in the texture of the sauce. At that point, you can step up the addition of the butter a bit, and keep going till all the butter is incorporated.
3. Whisk in the cayenne, lemon juice, and the herb mixture from the first step. Keep warm, but not over any heat or it will break.
Filet bearnaise at the Pelican Club.
Makes about 1 1/2 cups.
Bearnaise @ Chateau Du Lac
Bearnaise is not exactly a dish. But it pushes whatever it touches to a category or two higher. Look for a French chef to make it. Jacques Seleun is from Brittany–the other side of France from the Bearn province from which the sauce hails. But Brittany produces lots of eggs, butter, and herbs from which to make it, and Chef Jacques is classically trained. His bearnaise–always made minutes at most before it comes to you–is right on. The classic food on which it is served is steak, something that’s good here. But it’s also wonderful on the thick salmon.
Chateau Du Lac. Old Metairie: 2037 Metairie Rd. 504-831-3773.
We find this dish to be among the 500 best in New Orleans area restaurants.
October 1, 2014
Days Until. . .
Halloween 30
Anniversaries Of Notable Restaurants
Today in 2001 was opening day for Restaurant August. Chef John Besh, recently departed from Artesia in Abita Springs, was looking around for a gig. August “Duke” Robin persuaded him to join him in opening a new restaurant on the corner of Tchoupitoulas and Gravier, across the street from the Windsor Court Hotel. Besh hired a few key people from the Grill Room; he was himself was an alumni of that kitchen. The timing was terrible. Travel was still much depressed by the 9/11 disaster. But the restaurant took off anyway. Besh bought out Robin in 2005, just in time for another unfortunate event that depressed business. But he got the restaurant open right after the storm, serving red beans and rice and the like to those trying to keep a lid on things, until he could start cooking and serving on actual china with silverware. Restaurant August is, then and now, a contender for best restaurant in New Orleans.
Annals Of Popular Cuisine
Walt Disney World opened near Orlando, Florida today in 1971. Eleven years later, also on this date, Disney’s EPCOT Center opened next door. A corporate dream come true, Disney World remakes the world according to its fantasies, and even controls the government of its lands. For the past fifteen years, the theme park and its adjuncts have continually raised the stakes in its restaurants, offering more than a few gourmet outlets. The city of Orlando also has seen a rapid rise in its number of serious restaurants. Emeril has two of them there.
Great Moments In Post-Katrina Era
This is the day in 2006 when Commander’s Palace reopened after Katrina–and after many millions of dollars of repairs. In fixing what at first looked like minor damage, the Brennans found other, previously unknown problems that had to be addressed before the 126-year-old restaurant could reopen. Lally Brennan ruefully called it “a Pandora’s box.”
Back open finally, Commander’s went beyond getting back into the groove: it cut a brand new one. Chef Tory McPhail remained at the kitchen’s helm, most of the staff was back, and the all-girl team of proprietors (Ti Martin, Lally Brennan, Ella Brennan, and Dottie Brennan) continued to run things in person. The reopening launched a new era for Commander’s, which is now better than it has been in at least five years.
Food Calendar
As we begin a new month, we note that October is (according to various untraceable sources): Country Ham Month, National Apple Month, National Chili Month (the first week is also National Chili Week), National Cookie Month, National Dessert Month, National Pickled Peppers Month (so pick a peck of ‘em), National Pork Month, National Pretzel Month, National Seafood Month, Vegetarian Awareness Month (yeah, yeah, we’re aware of them–more in a moment), Sun Dried Tomatoes Month, Cook Book Month (hey! buy mine here), Gourmet Adventures Month, National Spinach Lovers Month, and Hunger Awareness Month. This is also supposed to be No Salt Week–but that is truly impossible to observe.
Today is the thirty-second annual World Vegetarian Day, instituted by the North American Vegetarian Society. It’s a mellow organization that seems more interested in promoting the joys and healthfulness of vegetarianism than decrying the diets of omnivores. Here’s their website.
The ranks of vegetarians are growing. I can vouch for that, just based on the number of queries I get from people looking for vegetarian-friendly restaurants. Fortunately for them, the restaurant community has kept up with this demand. Most white-tablecloth restaurants around New Orleans carry vegetarian (and sometimes even vegan) entrees on their menus. Neighborhood cafes have been slower to do so, as have most chains. And that option is expanding.
The first strategy for vegetarians who want to eat well in restaurants (in New Orleans, anyway) is to forget about vegetarian restaurants. The best of them have been just okay; most have been dreadful. Instead, go to good restaurants that buy fresh everything and have real chefs in the kitchen. Shop the menu for the ingredients of an appealing dish, and ask the chef to make it. Unless it’s something really complicated, he probably will.
Gourmet Gazetteer
Bayleaf, North Carolina is a nearly-rural suburb of Raleigh, about fifteen miles north of the state capitol. It’s near the Falls Lake reservoir, and the state park that surrounds it. Houses are well apart in the lightly wooded, hilly area. To the north, Adam Mountain rises about 100 feet above Bayleaf. I like the name of one of the closest restaurants, three miles away: The Art Of Food. But I’m disappointed that there is no Bayleaf Restaurant.
Edible Dictionary
cannoli, Legends abound, but it appears that cannoli were invented some five hundred years ago in western Sicily, probably in Palermo or its vicinity. Cannoli were a treat during the late-winter Carnevale, possibly as a fertility symbol. (The shape, size and color are still the stuff of jokes among Sicilians.) On the other hand, they may have been traditional spring, when the sheep were producing more milk for ricotta then. These days, those of us with a love for Italian dishes eat cannoli year-round.
Another liberty we take is in using the plural form all the time. If you have only one, you have a cannolo. And that’s probably plenty enough, as anyone who ever ate one cane affirm. The word comes to us from a diminutive form of canna (a cane-like reed, something like a sugar cane in size). The tubular shell shape was formed by rolling the pastry shell into a flat, circular shape, then wrapping it around a sugar cane stalk. Then it’s fried or baked crisp. When cool, the shells are filled with a mixture of ricotta cheese, sugar or honey, candied fruits and chocolate chunks. Then the cannolo is dipped into some pistachios and dusted with powdered sugar. It’s a calorie bomb, but forget about that when you eat one. But remember if you eat two cannoli.
Deft Dining Rule #781
To help change the world, when a single leaf of raw kale turns up on a plate in a restaurant, ask the server, “What do I do with this?” The answers are always interesting.
The Old Kitchen Sage Sez
To cook kale, slice out the central rib of the leaves and then cut the leaves into pieces the size of the pad of your thumb. Cook it slowly with chicken stock, olive oil, or butter, garlic or onions, crushed red pepper, and a squeeze of lemon juice until it’s tender. Then don’t tell anybody what it is.
The Saints
Today is the feast day of St. Bavo, the patron saint of Ghent, Belgium. The cathedral named after him there is one of the most impressive in Europe, which is saying something. It’s across the street from a restaurant whose name I can’t recall, in an ancient city hall, where I went through a large bucket of mussels in wine and cream sauce for less than fifteen dollars. St. Bavo ought to be the patron saint of mussels.
Music To Dine By
Today is the birthday, in 1925, of mellow pianist Roger Williams. His music played for millions of hours on Muzak systems in restaurants over the years (I still hear it quite a bit). I will forever associate it school cafeteria eating. During my years at St. Rita’s in Harahan, one of the nuns decided that Williams’s music would be nice for the students to listen to instead of talking in the cafeteria. She played the same side of the same Roger Williams album every day. I came to like those songs–a funny thing for a kid of twelve.
Music To Lose A Recipe By
Today is the birthday (1930) of Richard Harris, the Irish actor who, although not really a singer, recorded the hit version of Jimmy Webb’s MacArthur Park, one of the strangest songs ever written. Someone left a cake out in the rain.
Food And Drink Namesakes
Today in 1975 Eric Morel, Puerto Rican boxer in the 1996 Olympics, entered the Big Ring. . . Actor George Peppard was born today in 1928. . . Jerry Martini, jazz and pop saxophonist, was born today in 1943. . . Rob Collard, a British racecar driver, crossed the Big Starting Line today in 1968.
Words To Eat By
“I am not a vegetarian because I love animals; I am a vegetarian because I hate plants.”–A. Whitney Brown.
“I did not become a vegetarian for my health, I did it for the health of the chickens.”–Isaac Bashevis Singer.
“I was a vegetarian until I started leaning toward the sunlight.”–Rita Rudner.
“Do vegetarians eat animal crackers?”–Unknown.
Revolutionary Beverage Marketing.
When the message was read by Hamilton, did he know enough about wine to suspect that this was sent not by Washington, but by Aaron Burr?
Click here for the cartoon.