NOLA Revisited - Bon Temps

Choctaw Parade

I have a love affair with New Orleans.  I adore the architecture, the music wafting out of clubs where big names play, the art, the grit that lends a raw feel to the city, the humidity that inevitably makes my hair huge and my skin feel young, and of course the food.  Armed with a new local dinner recommendation from our friend Scott Barretta, I was feeling the pre-Mardi Gras electricity the minute we landed in the city on Friday afternoon.  After a short rejuvenation at the pool, Mark and I headed out to pick up his sister at her hotel in the French Quarter.  To date, I had not visited during parade season and thus made a rookie mistake; I alloted 15 minutes to get to dinner across town. Now, granted,  I am ridiculously spoiled living in the small town of Oxford, Mississippi where going across town means a 5 minute drive, except on football weekends, but what I was not accounting for was the instantaneous mob of cops, who can swarm in on your red light at any time, and throw up metal barriers directly in front of your car in order to enable a parade to cross by. For those of you who can learn from my mistakes, parade schedules and even smart phone apps, can help you avoid such beautiful, wacky, but delaying events. Fortunately, we were only shortly detained that first night making it to the restaurant 5 minutes late with a lesson well learned.

Parmesan amuse-bouche

Boucherie is located uptown, in a little neighborhood house, not far from Jaques-imo's, another local favorite that unfortunately is not so local anymore. We were seated in an elegant yet cozy back room, that might have been a family's dining room at one point.  Immediately, we were welcomed with an aesthetically beautiful amuse-bouche of puffed, fried parmesan cheese atop a cilantro pesto served in an asian style spoon.  There is something wonderful about receiving a bite-sized appetizer as a gift from the chef, to set the tone for the evening.  About this time, I noticed a chalk board listing a special appetizer described as a salted torchon of foie gras on a bed of micro greens with a kumquat chutney, served with homemade ginger snaps. While that beautiful description had me salivating, the dish somehow managed to even exceed my very excited expectations. The foie gras was rich and creamy with just the right level of salt to liven it. The micro greens were young and tender, and truly micro, which as a gardener who struggles to simply thin seedlings, I have huge respect for being strong enough to pick something that young. The kicker was the kumquat jelly/salsa/chutney, tender quartered kumquats, cooked down into what I would describe as a sweet salsa. Served cold along side the dish, the slight chew to the fruit added a sweet and tangy contrast to the lush, salty foie gras torchon.

Salted foie gras torchon

We also ordered boudin balls, a cajun specialty of white pork sausage, usually including heart and liver meat, mixed into a ball with rice, battered and then deep fried. Boucherie's were served crispy brown on the outside, piping hot and moist inside, with a perfect rice-to-meat ratio, made even better when dipped in the side of garlic aoli.

For the main course, I chose the duck breast served with roasted turnips and wilted arugula. The duck breast was tender, but the best part was the skin-on leg, which was crispy and flavorful. My new favorite vegetable this winter is turnip which I cook roasted in a honey butter glaze. Because of my infatuation with turnips, I was drawn to this dish and they did not disappoint. Sweet and melt-in-your-mouth tender, for me the turnips made the dish.

Boudin balls

Mark and Jane ordered the ribs, which were perfect. Fall off the bone tender, loaded with meat, trimmed to perfection, and dry rubbed with a spice that simply added to the flavor of the pork -- they felt like a refined version of your favorite gas station rib, which in Mississippi is a compliment. The ribs were served over a healthy portion of crisp celeriac slaw, which was light and provided a great celery flavored twist to the classic. Finally, the dish was topped with a pile of crispy fried shallots, an elegant and subtle take on the old school fried onions that top green bean casseroles.

Duck breast

We could not leave the restaurant without trying one of their unusual desserts. While I was curious about the Krispy Kreme bread pudding, it sounded a little sickly sweet; instead we opted to share a Thai chili chocolate chess pie. I am here to tell you this dessert was designed for me! The heat of the chili cut through the rich chocolate flavor and left a slight feeling of heat in your mouth after the lushness receded. Admittedly, I am not a pie person, because I think pie crusts taste dull and are just the conduit to the goodness inside. This crust was an exception. It was slightly sweet, flaky and full of flavor.

Ribs

After dinner, we popped into a club to hear renowned bluesman Benny Turner, brother of Freddie King, tear it up for an intimate crowd. Hip, smooth, and smiling the entire time, it would be impossible to feel down in his presence. As we left the club, I marveled at the beauty of New Orleans; it was a balmy February night, the doors to the club were wide open tempting passers by to drop in for a few songs, there was no cover charge, and musicians were playing with heart to small crowds. It struck me that this antithesis of the 15,000 seat arena where you need binoculars to see the performers, is what music is all about.

Thai chili chess pie

A visit to New Orleans would not be complete without a good breakfast. For the most part, we try to avoid the French Quarter with all of its crowds, and therefore headed to Satsuma in the Bywater. At this local alternative, hippie coffee shop, I had my fix of Chicory coffee alongside a croissant egg sandwich. Mellow flavors of avocado and swiss cheese, punctuated by the cilantro, and oozing egg yolk, were balanced by the sweet onions and buttery, chewy croissant. Mark's eggs benedict, were served with caramelized onions and crystal hollandaise sauce atop a jalepeno biscuit. For a coffee shop with a kitchen the size of a postage stamp, these dishes could go up against any French Quarter establishment. Save your money, and hours in line at Cafe Du Monde and head to the Bywater.

Benny Turner

While New Orleans certainly has a desperate side to it, there is something magical that makes this city unlike any other I have visited. Everything is in excess: the food, the drink, the brilliantly gaudy parades, even the funerals are celebrations, and yet what is truly a marvel, is that it is all served without guilt. Perhaps it is my puritan New England roots, but I find this exaltation of exuberance truly refreshing.

Eggs Benedict

A Day in the life of New Orleans: Domilise's and Cochon

New Orleans is right up there on my list of all-time favorite cities because it embodies many of the things I love most in life: food, music, romance and that rough edge that makes it feel exciting. Somehow I tend to find myself there in the summer and therefore I also associate it with a very sultry, thick heat, which for me is an excuse for strappy sundresses and cool cocktails.

This year was no exception. Mark and I traveled 90 miles from Biloxi to NOLA to wrap up our weekend on the coast. Upon landing we walked downtown to build our appetite for what was to be a one-day NOLA extravaganza. Usually we visit for a few days so we immediately felt the pressure of choice. To me, lunch was easy as I have been craving a Domilise's fried oyster po' boy for months. Upon arriving at the unassuming dive, the line was already out the door. Once inside I reveled in the seedy interior, not updated in decades and the 3 stoic "lunch-lady" looking older women behind the counter, wearing hair nets, working the fryer and methodically creating works of art. Every once in a while they yell to the customers to ensure we are taking numbers as we slowly crawl along the counter until it is our turn to order. The process is not obvious and of course I don't remember to take a number until I hear the barked order. Mark scores a table, which is not easy, so I take over the ordering. One small fried oyster po' boy, dressed and one fried shrimp po' boy for Mark, also dressed. I learned on our previous visit that dressed basically means loaded with mayo, lettuce, hot sauce and I am sure a few other things. I try not to look at the huge tub of mayo from which they slather, because I know that what comes out of this cramped kitchen is pure genius. You don't pay when you order, but instead when the order is up. In the meantime they instruct you to get drinks from the bar tender. The phone rings off-the-hook, but no one even attempts to answer it, so you are better off driving by if you worry whether or not they are not open. There could be some major streamlining in their processes, but who am I to make suggestions.

At last our orders are ready and they are pure perfection. Sweet juicy oysters in a crunchy fried batter, balanced by cool lettuce and mayo and the best po' boy bread ever. It is one of those sandwiches made better by pressing down and mushing it all together. It is completely messy and so delicious that my only regret is how fast I end up eating it. Once you bite into it, you really cannot pause for fear of it all falling apart and losing the balance of each bite. They do not skimp on the oysters, either. A small, definitely a misnomer, is $14, but it is entirely worth it. I also scarf my meal down because while you eat you cannot help but notice the line out the door and feel some pressure to let the next group of people nab your table. On this visit another couple, who said they are from NOLA, but whom I suspect relocated from NY at some point, made the bold and savvy decision to request our table before we were done. Of course we asked them to join us while we finished as we had extra chairs and thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them. We now shared the Domilise's bond.

After a brief visit to Bayou Boogaloo festival for music and art, we retired to the rooftop pool for afternoon relaxation. Mark made Dirty Martinis, poolside, with the new Cathead Vodka, from the first "legal" Mississippi distillery. I met the owners at their office/distillery on my way down to the coast and was excited to try their product, which proved to be very smooth.

After relaxing at the pool we cleaned up for dinner at Cochon. Having been to Cochon previously we worried as to whether it was as good as we remembered and were not disappointed. As you would imagine from the name, which means pig in french, the menu is filled with very diverse, carnivore friendly items. The atmosphere is bustling and the tables are tight; it is definitely not the place to have an intimate conversation, but more likely where you make friends with the folks on either side of you, or at least get ideas of what to order when you see their meals arrive.

We started out with paneed pork cheeks with baked peanuts and radish-turnip salad as well as a fried head cheese small plate. Both were out-of-this-world, but the head cheese was by far the winner. We debated about ordering the rabbit livers, which we have had previously and loved and would highly recommend.

For entrees, I ordered the special, a fried soft-shell crab over a green bean, fennel and soy bean salad. I know, it sounds crazy to order crab at a restaurant called Cochon, but after asking the waitress, she recommended it and reminded me that soft-shelled crabs are only available a few weeks each year. Given the situation in the Gulf, with BP employing strategies that involve golf balls and old tires, I felt that I should take advantage of this delicacy while I could. While I was full for a few days afterward from the sheer richness, I did not regret my order for an instant. It was the most juicy soft shelled crab I have ever experienced. It was fried delicately and seemed to be brushed with a chili sauce. The balance of crunchiness to sweet, juicy crab meat was exquisite. Mark, who would never order soft-shelled crab, voiced some regret that he did not also order it as he loved the dish. By no means is that a slight to his choice of the ham hock with sweet potatoes, pickled greens and black eyed pea ham broth. The ham in one word, was sophisticated. It was smoky, tender, falling off the bone and completely not your Christmas Day spiral sliced, pineapple ham.

Following dinner we set out on foot to enjoy the NOLA nightlife and within a block of Cochon, we happened upon a wedding parade. Only in NOLA would one consider walking the streets of a city with all of your wedding guests, led by a police escort and followed by a wedding float. Music was blasting and the guests danced as they processed. I felt tears in my eyes as they passed and thought that this moment was a perfect example of the magic that I so often feel when visiting New Orleans.