Lynn gets paranoid about getting to the airport with enough time so, of course, we got to the airport far too early. My stomach wasn't feeling too well, but it actually didn't interfere with my appetite. While we were waiting around the terminal I decided to get some food from a Mexican place in the airport named Oaxaca. I don't know why, but I ordered a green chile burro. I believe that green chile is one of the most difficult things for any Mexican restaurant to make decently, much less make well, so I don't know why I expected that the airport green chile should be any better than green paste, but it was. The green chile was full of real chunks of beef, tomatoes, onions, and flavor. It wasn't the best green chile I've ever had, but it was actually one of the best. If you find yourself hungry in terminal four of Phoenix Sky Harbor airport give the green chile at Oaxaca a try, it's much better than the usual airport fare.
Our flight was departing at 6:45, and apparently nighttime is a good time to fly. After Lynn and I chose our seats we had the row all to ourselves. The time me and Noah caught a late flight to Las Vegas it was almost like we had the plane to ourselves.
I forgot that the flight I selected was a connecting flight so I was a little surprised to hear we were landing in Houston. I guess I selected a connecting flight to get the latest flight out of Phoenix possible, but I don't remember. Anyway, the sky around Houston was quite cloudy, and the clouds were illuminated by the wing lights. It was pretty eerie and surreal to see the sky lit up, but not being able to see beyond a couple of inches; it gave the impression of floating. After we finally cleared the clouds we could see the lights of Houston; they were blue and green and looked like they were twinkling. I wondered what caused them to appear to twinkle. Lynn thought it was caused by trees swaying back and forth in the wind, obscuring the lights, but it didn't seem windy when we landed, and can there really be that many trees in Houston?
In Houston we weren't supposed to switch planes, but for some reason or another they decided we should take a different plane. I had to admit that for something unexpected they handled it rather quickly, and our luggage was on board before the people boarding at Houston were even on the plane. We arrived in New Orleans without any incidents around midnight.
Normally I would have taken the airport shuttle, but it was late and I wanted to head straight to the hotel so we took a cab. When we walked into the lobby the first thing we noticed was the guy at the front desk on the phone. He was talking to some friend of his about his sore back, his birthday, and I don't know what else. He eventually noticed me (even though I was standing right in front of him), handed me a form to fill out, and kept on talking. He stayed on the phone the entire time I checked in. For the rest of the trip Lynn referred to the guy as "The Ass". On a positive note the parlor just off to the right of the front desk looked great. It had like a twenty foot ceiling, a sofa, and a couple of wingback chairs in front of a fireplace. It looked so comfortable and inviting it called to me to sit there and smoke a couple of cigars in it.
The Ass managed to pry himself away from the phone long enough to tell us how to find our room, and the directions were necessary since it was far from obvious where our room was located. We had a mini suite on the second floor, and when we opened the door to our room it was interesting; the first floor had a living room and a small kitchen, then up a narrow flight of stairs was the bedroom and bathroom loft style. It was nice, but the room had the same "there's no mistaking this for a room in an old hotel" look that I saw at The Andrew Jackson. I liked my room at The Andrew Jackson. I didn't mind that it wasn't the best room I'd ever stayed in; it's age was part of it's charm, but I was hoping for something a little better from The Olivier House. Even if the room at The Andrew Jackson wasn't the best at least I liked the front desk people there. I couldn't say the same for The Olivier House. At least Lynn liked the room.
It had been so long since I had eaten that green chile burro I wanted to get something to eat (and possibly check out Bourbon Street), but Lynn was too tired to do anything. It was sort of a precursor of things to come.
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I like to start my New Orleans trips off with typical creole food, and work up to NOLA for dinner. Given that I'm staying away from Johnny Po'boys these days I had to really think about where to eat. There were more than a few people on Chowhound who've recommended Mr. B's Bistro so I thought I'd give it a try.
Normally I don't pay much attention to a restaurants' appearance, but I have to say I really liked the look of Mr. B's. The dark wood, hunter green accents, and marble two person tables were a classic style that really appealed to me. The only thing I didn't like about the restaurant was that it was noisy, but it wasn't too bad.
Several different waiters told us the specials, and after some agonizing over what to order, we made up our minds. Lynn ordered the deep fried soft shells crabs, one of the daily specials which came with a bowl of soup, and I ordered the gumbo ya-ya (chicken and andouille sausage) and barbecue shrimp. While we were waiting for our soups to appear one of the waiters brought out a loaf of French bread. The French bread was almost perfect with a thin and crispy crust. I say almost perfect because if the crust was a little thicker then it would have been perfect.
Our soups arrived, and I switched my gumbo ya-ya with Lynn's soup of the day (a tomato, fennel, and shrimp bisque) since she really wanted the gumbo, and I really wanted the soup of day, but the soup of the day came with her lunch, and not mine. I tried a little bit of the gumbo ya-ya before I gave it to Lynn. It was smokey with a thin broth. I liked the flavor, but I prefer my gumbos thicker, and the deep flavor of the gumbo didn't seem to match the thin body. Lynn thought it was great. I thought the bisque was great. It was thick and reminded me of the delicious tomato cream sauce from Naples (a the restaurant just down the street from our apartment).
After we were done with our soups one of the waiters came and tied a bib around my neck. I was a little surprised; I've never eaten at any place that's bibbed me before. After prepping me for my entree they brought out my barbecue shrimp, and Lynn's deep fried soft shell crabs. The menu stated Lynn's dish had two deep fried soft shell buster crabs, and even though neither one of us had seen a buster crab before I thought they would be pretty large. They weren't. They were actually quite small. Mine was a bowl of thin barbecue sauce swimming with large shrimp (shell-on, which explained the bib). I knew it would be too much for me, but I thought Lynn would eat some shrimp when she was through with her crabs. I actually tried a small piece of her crab with the remoulade, and it was delicious. I also tried some of the parmesan-tasso risotto with the remoulade, and it was also delicious with little crispy bits in it. (Without the remoulade it was only ok though.) There was also some asparagus on Lynn's plate, but it was pretty limp so I didn't bother with it. I then turned my attention to my own food. I pulled one of the large shrimp from the barbecue sauce which was similar to the one I had at Emeril's New Orleans Fish House in Las Vegas; brown with a molasses flavor. It was pretty tasty, but not really my cup of tea. I gave Lynn a shrimp, and she enjoyed it, but she liked the ones we had at the NO Fish House better. I tried to make the best of my shrimp, but shelling them made me too lazy to eat them.
After we had ordered our food another couple was seated next to us. Somehow they ordered, ate, and left before we even finished our entrees. I don't think they said one word to each other the entire meal. People like that always amaze me. If they don't seem to enjoy each others company, why are they eating together? Another couple was seated at the table, and they seemed a lot happier. They asked a waiter if they could get some side dish in a large quantity for a friend of their's back home who loved whatever it was they wanted. Someone else (who looked like a manager type) came back a couple of minutes later and told them they could pack them a gallon of it to go for like $7. Now that's service!
Lynn thought that my bib wearing was funny enough that she wanted to take a picture of it after we were done eating our entrees. She didn't have her camera with her so she tried to take a picture of me with my digital camera, but she couldn't quite master focusing. I think we spent about 20 minutes of me trying to explain to her how to focus by half pressing the shutter release button, and her ignoring everything I said. In the end she never figured it out, and I saved one out of focus picture to commemorate the moment. Something I noticed is that the entire time we were going through our whole picture taking fiasco the waiters left our table alone, but as soon as we were finished they cleared our plates, and brought me a hot towel for my fingers. I really liked the service at Mr. B's.
We decided that ordering a dessert would be worthwhile. Me and Lynn disagreed on whether most of the desserts sounded good, but we did agree that the macadamia creme caramel with macadamia brittle sounded great. We also decided to order a glass of Fonseca 20 year old tawny port to go with it. The dessert came quickly, but our glass of port was nowhere to be seen. We waited a while, but Lynn had to ask another waiter to get it. It was a shame because up until that point they were doing so well service wise. I tried the macadamia creme caramel, and it was a very tasty mild custard. (I'm a big fan of mild custards.) It was creamy, and delicious with just a little more than a hint of macadamia nut. I tried the tawny port, and I didn't get any specific flavors out of it, which is sort of weird since I always seem to taste two or three different kinds of flavors in tawny port. It might have been that restaurant was so busy and noisy that I couldn't concentrate on the flavor. I think a glass of Yalumba's "Galway Pipe Port" would have better suited the custard, but that wasn't an option. Lynn liked the Fonseca.
We were all finished with dessert, and I was ready to pay the check and get out of there, but no one seemed interested in giving us the check. That's one of my biggest restaurant pet peeves; when I'm ready to pay the check I want to do it immediately without having to hunt a waiter down. Anyway, I had to ask a waiter for the check. I still tipped them better than normal because I did think the service was great, even if they did seem to forgot about us in the end.
We left Mr. B's and it was overcast and freezing. We were on Royal Street, and had nothing better to do so we looked at antique furniture shops, signed memorabilia, and other stuff. It sprinkled off and on while we went from shop to shop. I didn't realize it as first, but Lynn was looking for something specific, a cake server. She found one she liked that I thought looked good too, but we decided to keep looking before buying it. While we were at another shop I found an antique set of dominoes that were half bone and half boxwood with brass spinners. The dominoes were very nearly the exact type of domino set that I'd been looking for, until that is, I found out the price. Lynn thought it'd make a good Christmas present for me, but I thought it was too expensive (even as a gift). Even if we talked the guy down one third his price I still wouldn't have been happy with how much they cost so we left the dominoes alone.
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We went back to the hotel to retreive Lynn's umbrella and when we walked into the lobby we noticed The Ass wasn't there. It was a different guy at the front desk and when he said something like "good evening" to us we noticed his accent. Lynn responded by asking him how he was doing in French since that's what his accent sounded like. The guy kind of just looked at us, not understanding what Lynn said, so she asked him what his first language was. He showed us the book he was reading; it was written in a mix of kanji and hiragana! His first language was Japanese, and he had lived his first 18 years of his life in Japan. That was really unexpected since we thought his accent was French, or at least European. We got his name, Michael, and talked with him for some time. It was interesting.
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We had some time before dinner and I was feeling a little hungry so I wanted to get a small snack. CC's Community Coffee House was close so it seemed like a sign to have some hot chocolate and whatever kind of pastries looked good. Since it was the middle of the night the pastry selection wasn't as good as normal, but they did have a couple of things that looked good. I chose a little blueberry strudel that was calling out to me. I waited until my hot chocolate was ready before I tried it, and it turned out to be a very tasty little number. It wasn't too sweet, the pastry was flaky, and the blueberry filling was very fruity. Too bad the hot chocolate seemed to be completely devoid of chocolate. I tried stirring it up (eventually), and there was a hint of chocolate but in the end it was the weakest hot chocolate I've ever had.
I decided to make the best of CC's and use their bathroom. I should have waited. The bathroom floor was concrete with a drain conveniently located in the center. It didn't bother me, but I was tempted to pee directly into the drain because there was a pool around the toilet comprised of who knows what (but I had a guess). I knew intentionally peeing on the floor would just be wrong so I peed in the sink instead. Just kidding. I tried my best to hit the toilet from three point range, but if I missed no one would be able to tell anyway.
When I came out of the bathroom I saw some lady sitting by us making faces, and I kept hearing some guy behind me repeat, "Thank you sir." It was odd, but I waited until we were outside to ask Lynn what that was all about. I thought the lady was making faces at the guy, and he was trying to discourage her by saying, "Thank you sir." Lynn told me that this guy (who was wearing a short sleeve shirt even though it had rained earlier, and was freezing outside) was complaining about being cold because the door to the coffee shop wasn't closed all the way. Instead of closing the door himself he would ask other people to do it, and complain when they ignored him. Someone walked in and tried to close the door, but it still didn't close all the way so Mr. Short Sleeves says really loudly, "That's ok sir, I'm a yankee. I can take it." Then when the guy walked in he said, "I appreciate your effort. Thank you sir." He kept repeating, "Thank you sir," and that's when I walked out of the bathroom. The lady making faces was actually making them at Lynn, and they were both silently making fun of Mr Short Sleeves. (I know my initial conclusion was weird, but you have to admit that the truth was even stranger.)
Dinner on my first night in New Orleans is always at NOLA, and even though there were a lot more new restaurants that I wanted to check out than nights we had available, I wasn't breaking tradition. We got to NOLA early and we were seated at the chef's bar, right next to the chef de cuisine (my favorite spot!). Lynn looked at the four course tasting menu and thought it looked good so she ended up getting it with the wine pairings. I wanted to choose my own food, but I was going to get four courses too.
I started with the roasted garlic-parmesan bisque with pesto oil, and Lynn's first course was smoked oysters with spicy aioli, seared tuna, and fried green tomatoes. My soup was good in a very understated way; instead of blowing my mind it was comforting, like a warm blanket. It was thick with strong roasted garlic and parmesan flavors. The pesto oil was necessary to keep the other flavors from being fatiguing. I tried one of Lynn's smoked oysters and it blew my mind! It was smoky, chewy, a little spicy, and far more delicious than you would think an oyster could be. Lynn loved the oysters too, and she hates oysters! The seared tuna was also amazingly good. I eat raw tuna on occasion, but I don't really care for raw fish in general. This tuna was so good that I would have eaten it all if Lynn let me. (NOLA has been responsible for me enjoying a lot of food that I normally hate: oysters, duck [I'd had a couple of previous bad experiences], raw tuna, cured salmon, and mushrooms have all succumbed to the NOLA kitchen to be transformed from disgusting to delicious.) It was seasoned with some sort of combination of herbs and spices that made it super tasty. The fried green tomato was pretty good (if a little heavily battered), but Lynn didn't care for it. Her grandfather used to make fried green tomatoes a certain way that she liked, so there's no competing with a childhood favorite.
Sometime during our first or second course the chef at the wood burning oven made us a snack: a pineapple barbecue pizza with shrimp and ham. The ham on the pizza had a very strong flavor that was off-putting. We didn't care for it at all.
I had ordered a baby arugula salad with eggplant fitters, mushrooms, some sort of chutney, and vinaigrette. Lynn's second course was a red bean risotto with grilled fish. My eggplant fitters were good on their own, and with the chutney they were outstanding. They were crisp, and they had that great indescribable flavor that eggplant gets when it's properly prepared. The salad was also good with the slightly peppery taste of the arugula balanced with the meaty mushrooms, sweet chutney, and vinaigrette. The salads at NOLA are still a good bet. Lynn's grilled fish was excellent; flaky, moist, and spicy. The really amazing thing on her plate though was the red bean risotto; it was like red beans and rice, only better. There was something about it that made me want to jump up and tell people how great it was. Instead of telling other people I told Chef about it, and he agreed and said it was like the next level of red beans and rice.
All the time we were at the chef's bar the chef de cuisine was talking to us, explaining how dishes were made, and showing us food. The chef was really friendly, and he reminded me of the chef de cuisine who was at NOLA the first time I ate there three years ago. I'm not very good with faces or names so I didn't recognize him, and I didn't know his name to ask. He did seem like the same guy though; there can't be that many outgoing, nutty chefs in the world. After a while I noticed his boots, and the wallet chain he was wearing, then I knew he had to be the same guy. Lynn said I should say something to him so I asked him where he had worked before. He said he had worked at Delmonico, but before that he was at NOLA. He was the same chef who made me feel at home when I ate there by myself the first time! He told us his name is Chef Neal, and after Lynn knew his name she talked to him even more throughout the meal. (Lynn was also chitchatted with the chef at the wood burning oven, the waiter, and one of sommeliers.) Toward the end of the meal Chef Neal told us about the restaurant in Tucson he used to work at, Janos, and said we should try it. [I told him we would, and in January me and Lynn ate there and the food was absolutely amazing. Chef Neal's recommendation was right on the money.] Anyway, if you sit at the chef's bar at NOLA be sure to tell Chef Neal hi.
My entree was a daily special: sirloin brochette, barbecue shrimp, and a potato-brie turnover. Lynn's third course was lamb osso buco, polenta, balsamic braised radicchio, and a goat cheese fritter. The sirloin brochette was pretty good by itself, but it was much better with the barbecue sauce for the shrimp. The barbecue sauce was thick, rich, and very spicy. I thought the barbecue shrimp at NOLA were much better than the barbecue shrimp I just had at Mr. B's Bistro earlier that day although I would say it's a matter of personal preference. Lynn liked the barbecue shrimp at NOLA better than Mr. B's or Emeril's New Orleans Fish House in Las Vegas as her matter of personal preference. The potato-brie turnover was perfectly matched with the meatier items, providing that comforting creaminess, and a nice change of texture. I was getting full so I couldn't finish everything on my plate, and it was the potato-brie turnover that I lamented not being able to eat the most. Lynn's lamb was very nice in the usual understated lamb sort of way. The sauce was rich with a herby-meaty flavor, and it complimented everything on the plate. I totally dug the goat cheese fritter. Frying the goat cheese seemed to decrease the cheesy sort of gaminess I normally don't like about goat cheese, and gave it a nice texture too. The polenta was nice and thick, the way it should be. The only thing on Lynn's plate we didn't care for was the balsamic braised radicchio, which was too bitter. Lynn said that when the balsamic braised radicchio was eaten with the goat cheese fritter it was decent, but decent wasn't good enough to be on that plate if you ask me.
When Lynn was through with her plate she went to the bathroom. She had left a decent amount of the lamb osso buco on her plate so I started attacking it. The sommelier we talked to earlier walked by, and saw me enjoying the osso buco. He asked me if I wanted a small fork to get at the marrow, which he said was his favorite part of osso buco. I'd never tried marrow before, but if the sommelier recommended it I figured there had to be something to it. He came back with a seafood fork, and I tried my best to dig the marrow out of the bone. I got a little bit of the gelatinous goo, but I wasn't impressed with the flavor. It wasn't bad, but it didn't seem worth the trouble either.
I was completely stuffed and more than satisfied with the meal, but I was still looking forward to dessert. The cream pie I had the last time I was at NOLA was calling me, and I was ready to answer. I was waiting for a dessert menu when our waiter told us that chef had taken care of dessert for us. That was unexpected. A couple of minutes later the waiter and Chef Neal presented us with two plates. One plate had Lynn's sweet potato-praline cheesecake, which he gave to me, and to Lynn a huge plate of goodies that he explained to us had a passion fruit sorbet, watermelon sorbet, the "famous" banana layer cake, and the "soon to be famous" chocolate buzz bomb. I tried the sweet potato cheesecake, and it was impressive. It was light and creamy (which is what I liked about the cream pie I had last time), and the sweet potato flavor was delicious and unique. (Did I mention I hate sweet potatoes? Of course I would have to hate them to make the cheesecake that much more of a surprise, but this isn't the first time I had a great sweet potato flavored item: the sweet potato bisque at Bacco was amazing.) The only thing I didn't like about the cheesecake was the praline topping, but it was easy to eat around. The sorbets were excellent. I've never been a fan of the banana layer cake since it doesn't taste special to me, but more like something you might eat at a church potluck. Lynn didn't care for the cake either. I normally don't care for "death by chocolate" sort of desserts because they're too rich to eat very much of; you have a couple of bites and you're done. The chocolate buzz bomb didn't fit in that category; it was chocolaty and rich, but there was enough variation in flavor and texture to make it interesting. In addition to the rich chocolate, there were apricots to compliment the chocolate, and a cookie crust to give a little different texture. It was the best thought out chocolate dessert I've ever had. Chef Neal asked us what we thought of the desserts, but he was especially interested in what we thought about the chocolate buzz bomb. It turns out that he actually co-created it with the dessert chef. Lynn asked the waiter if the sommelier could match a wine to the desserts. The waiter was curious as to what the sommelier would come up with. The sommelier selected a Muscat to match the buzz bomb, and the cheesecake. The wine was delicious, but a little too syrupy for me. The waiter hovered around to find out what Lynn thought of the match. (She thought it matched well with the cheesecake, but it was a little too heavy for the buzz bomb.)
After everything the waiter asked if we wanted any coffee. Lynn went for the coffee and I was talked into some tea (hot tea seemed like a good way to recover after all that food). Lynn's coffee was dropped off, and I was given a cup and a pot of hot water, but I was wondering where my tea was. I eventually looked to the left of my place setting and some server had stealthily placed a large box of assorted teas right next to me, and I didn't even notice. I poured through the box looking for something other than earl grey and herbal teas, when I found exactly what I wanted, jasmine tea. I was a happy camper and I told Lynn that if she wanted to come back to NOLA sometime this trip we could. She wanted to come back Saturday night, our last night in town. She told Chef Neal we'd be back Saturday and he said just to tell him, "Chef throw down," and he'd throw down. Now I was excited about Saturday night. Chef Neal asked us a couple of minutes later if we were up for the challenge, and we said yes, then Lynn asked him if he was up for the challenge, and he took our tasting menu and wrote "I am up for the challenge..." and signed it Chef Neal. Nut.
Lynn insisted we make reservations before we leave so we spoke to the maitre d' (who wasn't the usual guy) and made a reservation for 10 pm on Saturday. It was late, but I told her not to worry about it because depending on who you talk to they don't make reservations for the chef's bar so if we got there early enough we'd get our seat without a problem.
We were only about five feet out the door of NOLA when Lynn decided we should stop because she wasn't feeling well. She then stooped down, put her head in the gutter, and summarily puked. I didn't watch Lynn because I turned around hoping we were far enough from the front door that the maitre d' wouldn't see it. Relieved that we were just out of the maitre d's sight, I then hoped no one at a window seat could see either, and tried to stand in their line of sight just in case they could. When I turned around to see how Lynn was doing there was a lot of steam rising from the gutter. To my surprise someone who worked at another restaurant asked me if she was ok. I told him she would be fine, but I couldn't help but think, "This is New Orleans, don't you see this all the time?". There was a camera crew at The Napoleon House filming some movie, and they saw Lynn puke right in front of them. One of them was nice enough to come over and hand me a bottle of water for Lynn. I thanked him profusely. Everyone was very nice for something that had resulted from Lynn drinking four glasses of wine, and eating too much. Lynn felt better afterwards, and appreciated the water the guy had given her. I thought about our day while we walked back to our hotel, and realized that we had spent over five hours in restaurants! At least it was time well spent.
The only thing that could make my night better was a cigar. Lynn actually agreed with me about the cigar so we were thinking about where to smoke them. We walked into the hotel and the parlor just looked perfect for my purpose. The Ass was on duty so Lynn asked The Ass if it was ok to smoke cigars in the parlor. He didn't mind so that's exactly what we did. I actually started feeling bad about Lynn's nickname for him. Anyway, I normally don't like smoking indoors, but the ceiling in the parlor was like 20 feet high so we didn't have to smell the smoke. It was perfect.
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We woke up and explored the rest of Royal Street. I found some cool sombrero wearing skull Christmas ornaments (Dia de los Muertos type skulls in case you think they sound morbid), but I didn't buy them because they were too expensive. I also found a cool shadowbox sort of thing at this Mexican shop that said something like "El Fumador" on the outside and had a skeleton smoking inside it. After examining it closely I noticed that the skeleton was smoking a cigarette so I didn't buy it. (I hate cigarettes.) We also went back to one of the antique shops we were at the day before to look at the cake server again. We continued walking around the French Quarter, and I ran across Grenier e Chocolat, an antique shop that also sells chocolates that I didn't recall seeing the last time I was in New Orleans. The chocolates they sold were Leonidas chocolates imported from Belgium, and I got a pretty good selection. We also stopped at Black Bull Cigars to get a couple of cigars to smoke later.
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We went to Bayona for lunch. We were there a little late for lunch so we pretty much had the restaurant to ourselves. They brought out a basket of bread, and I tried a piece of baguet and it was almost perfect except that the crust was a little too thick. There was another bread covered with toasted sesame seeds that I totally loved. After making some tough decisions I ordered the grilled shrimp with cilantro dressing and black bean cake for my appetizer, and Lynn had the black bean soup. The grilled shrimp was amazing. There's something about seafood when it's properly grilled that's absolutely brilliant, and the shrimp were absolutely brilliant. The cilantro dressing matched nicely, and I thought it was necessary to enjoy, the weak point of the appetizer, the black bean cake. The black bean cake was ok, but it wasn't anything special. Lynn loved the black bean soup. I tried it, and it seemed like a smoother, not quite as spicy version of Cuban black bean soup. It was very good, but I like my beans whole, and spicier too.
For my entree I went for the renowned duck peanut butter and jelly sandwich (grilled poppyseed bread, smoked duck, cashew butter, jalapeno jelly, and pickled red onion). Lynn had a special of the day, seared scallops and Israeli cous cous. The duck sandwich was interesting, but did not compare to the mind blowing greatness of the grilled shrimp. The combination was unique, unusual, and very rich, but it was also too sweet. The jalapeno jelly could have used more jalapenos and less sugar. There was a cucumber root salad(?) and slices of tart apples served on the side that were well thought out as they provided a nice bit of refreshment when the sandwich became too much (and as rich as it was it was needed often). Lynn's seared scallops were absolutely brilliant just like the grilled shrimp. The Israeli cous cous had a nice texture (like large caviar), but it was coupled with asparagus (including the tips) which gave it a bitter flavor. There was also a weird herbal flavor that didn't match with the scallops at all. Things not matching well with seared scallops would end up being a running theme on our trip.
We were thinking about having dessert, but nothing looked appetizing to us on the dessert menu so we didn't order one. Despite some of the issues I had with the food I thought Bayona was good enough to merit a dinner visit on my next trip.
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I wanted to try one of the cigars we bought from Black Bull Cigars, but it was too windy outside to smoke them in the only place I could think of smoking them, the hotel's courtyard. I couldn't think of anyplace better so we smoked the cigars in our hotel room. The smoke wasn't bothersome because the ceiling of our room was 20 feet high like the hotel's parlor. It was enjoyable.
After we were finished with our cigars we walked around the Quarter again. I found a really cool brown leather and bronze lamp that would look perfect for my (nonexistent) study. Luckily I didn't feel like buying anything that I'd have to ship.
We went to Decatur Street to look for cheap touristy souvenirs that Lynn was going to get for people. We walked by The Cigar Factory and I had to go in; they had guys at benches rolling cigars. I watched, enthralled while they rolled the leaves into the basic cigar form. I could have stood there watching for hours, but Lynn got bored with it pretty quickly. I decided to get a cigar sampler since hand rolled American cigars are rare, and when I was ready to leave Lynn was still watching one of the rollers. The roller Lynn was watching was wrapping the formed cigars with wrapper leaf. I don't know why, but she found it more entertaining. At one of the shops we found a cheap set of dominoes with metal spinners that said New Orleans on the back. I dug 'em. After we were done on Decatur we strolled down the Moon Walk, and looked at the Mississippi river. The last thing I did was look for Sweet Kathleen's, which was a great jazz club that I'd been to two years ago. Every time I've been to New Orleans since I've tried to go to Sweet Kathleen's, but they were never open. Now they'll never be open again because they're out of business. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they were hardly open?
I had heard lots of great things about Stella! on the Chowhound board so I made it one of our dinner stops. When we got there we were seated in the coziest dining room I've ever eaten in in New Orleans.
Lynn was being indecisive so I ordered two appetizers. The first was deep fried oysters over German potato salad flavored with horseradish, and the second was the oriental tasting, which was calamari on top of a spicy sunomono [Japanese cucumber salad], a duck spring roll on top of wasabi mashed potatoes, and a combination of kimchi [Korean fermented cabbage] and bool kogi [Korean marinated barbecued beef]. The fried oysters were really good, but the German potato salad ranked as one of the best things I've ever eaten! A properly made German potato salad is a thing of beauty that far transcends it's ingredients, and this one was better than properly made, it was unique. This German potato salad had horseradish in it. I didn't know it, but horseradish has a definite affinity for potatoes, and it was enough to make it amazing. The calamari was really tasty; one of the best I've had. The spicy sunomono was great with it's contradiction of soothing and spicy. The duck spring roll was decent, but I always felt like I was tasting a hint of gaminess. The wasabi mashed potatoes were excellent. Wasabi has just as much affinity for potatoes as horseradish. The kimchi was nasty, but the bool kogi was pretty good.
The appetizers were so good I was really looking forward to the entrees. I had the seared scallops with a caviar butter sauce and potato, andouille sausage, and bacon hash while Lynn had the veal chop over mashed potatoes. The seared scallops were just as great as the seared scallops Lynn had earlier at Bayona. Initially I thought the flavor of the hash was excellent, but it was too strong for the scallops, and after a couple of bites the smokey and meaty flavors were too powerful for me to even eat. At least the scallops were great. While I was swooning over the seared scallops I looked at Lynn, and she didn't look happy at all. Her veal chop was unseasoned (or extremely underseasoned), and her mashed potatoes weren't that good. It was disappointing.
I was hoping that dessert was going to be a lot better than the entrees. I ordered the frozen ginger creme brulee which came with green tea ice cream and grilled pineapple brochette while Lynn had the chocolate torte with white chocolate ganache. The creme brulee was excellent on a technical level, and it was even better due to it's unique presentation; serving the creme brulee frozen made it more like ice cream than custard. It was impressive. The creme brulee only had one flaw, but it was a major one; the ginger was too strong. The ginger was so strong it burnt the back of my throat. Luckily the green tea ice cream was very nice and soothing. It was weird because it didn't taste a thing like green tea to me, but I still enjoyed it anyway. The pineapple brochette was just grilled pineapple, nothing special. I tried Lynn's chocolate torte, and it was excellent and the chocolate was of very high quality, but it fell into the "death by chocolate" category and was too rich for me to eat. I think it was actually too rich for four people to eat. The white chocolate ganache which accompanied the torte didn't taste good to me, and Lynn thought it was downright nasty.
Stella! was pretty disappointing, and it's doubtful I'll ever return there since there are far too many great restaurants in New Orleans to try and figure out what the really good items are on Stella!'s menu. I would stop there for appetizers though.
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After dinner I decided to run around and take pictures of Christmas decorations instead of going straight back to the hotel. Normally I'm not a big Christmas person, but I liked a lot of the Christmas decorations I saw in the French Quarter. I had to be quick though because it was a cold night and Lynn didn't bother bringing a jacket. While I was taking some pictures of a bank building some guy walked up and started to give me some pointers on how to take the picture. It was odd, but what he was saying made sense so I gave it a try. The guy was very talkative for a stranger, and Lynn suspected him of wanting to rob us, but even I'm not that paranoid. After I was done taking my pictures I said goodbye to the guy, and he tried to get us to go to some restaurant he worked at. Um, yeah, that didn't happen. Anyway, we made our way back to our hotel, and were amazed at how many noisy drunks there were on Bourbon Street when it was still only about 10. After we got back to our hotel I wanted to go to Bourbon Street to see some of the night life, but Lynn was feeling tired.
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We got up a little earlier than normal on Saturday to catch the free walking tour by the National Park Service. We walked outside and it was cold, very cold. We were a little early for the tour so we went to Cafe Du Monde for hot chocolate and beignets to go. The walking tour was led by a park ranger and it was very educational. After the tour we looked around the French Market, and I actually found a batik mask that I liked. I think batik masks look cool normally, but they aren't my type of thing; they tend to have a very feminine look to them. This particular one was the only one I've seen of it's kind; it's lower jaw was extended, it had killer fangs, and it looked very masculine. Lynn got it for me.
We were starving after the French Market so we had to think of a place for lunch. I wanted to get something good, but I didn't want to get too much food since we were going to put ourselves in Chef Neal's hands later that night. Since I'm still holding a grudge against Johnny Po'boys and refuse to eat there the only other place I could think of was ACME Oyster House. We got to ACME Oyster House and there was a line to get in. I hate lines, and it was still cold outside so my first reaction was to leave, but I was too hungry to think of another place to go so we waited. When we got inside it really reminded me of Johnny Po'boys; it wasn't much to look at, but it had the look of good and honest food. (Mother's had the same look, but their food didn't measure up.) I ordered a Peacemaker po'boy (fried shrimp and oysters with lettuce, tomato, and Tabasco infused mayonnaise), and Lynn ordered a hot roast beef and gravy po'boy. While we waited for our food to arrive Lynn signed the tablecloth. The Peacemaker was pretty good. I liked the fried shrimp a little better than the fried oysters. Lynn's hot roast beef was even better; there was an unexpected spicy kick to it that I found endearing, and that Lynn loved.
In spite of the wait I enjoyed ACME Oyster House, and the next time I'm in New Orleans and looking for a sandwich I'll probably pop into ACME Oyster House and get a hot roast beef po'boy.
After lunch I was ready for a cigar. This time I had a better location in mind than our hotel room; we were going to smoke at Black Bull Cigars. Black Bull had a couple of comfy chairs at the front of the store for smoking so it seemed like the perfect place. Lynn had never had a hurricane before so we stopped at Pat O'Brien's and picked up a couple of hurricanes to go. I took a sip of my hurricane and it tasted a lot stronger than I remembered it. I mixed it up and it was the same smooth (yet potent) drink I remembered.
We walked into Black Bull Cigars and there were two guys playing chess, and another guy watching. We sat in the big comfy chairs in the front of the store, lit up our cigars, and sipped our hurricanes. The guy who was watching the chess players was a salesman, and he started talking to us. It was an interesting conversation since he had only recently moved to New Orleans and said he couldn't imagine working anywhere else in New Orleans other than the French Quarter. He said that he was an oddball, and practically everyone who worked in the French Quarter was an oddball. He described the Quarter as "The Island of Lost Toys". I thought it was a pretty funny observation, but remembering all the people I've talked to before who've worked in the Quarter, there was a grain of truth in it. In a bit of good timing not less than five minutes later a guy came in wearing a stained and very worn white t-shirt, a long, scraggly looking goatee, and a tattoo that went down the middle of his forehead and around his left eye, and set up the chess board to play someone. A few minutes after that the store manager (who won the previous game) started to play him.
I didn't watch to see who was winning the game, instead choosing to smoke my cigar (which was the house brand). It was only ok, but I still enjoyed it with my hurricane. I really enjoyed the scent of Lynn's Ashton Virgin Sun Grown "Illusion", which I swear is the best smelling cigar on the face of the Earth. I got a quarter of the way through my hurricane, and I knew I should stop drinking it. I was pleasantly buzzed, and getting closer to being drunk than I like to be. Lynn finished her hurricane and volunteered to finish mine. She has a higher tolerance than me, but I knew before we left that she had too much to drink. Lynn figured it out when she tried to stand for the first time (Sort of like trying to stand in a hurricane isn't it?).
Lynn doesn't remember a thing about what happened afterwards so I'll spare her the embarrassment.
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I didn't want to wait until our reservation to see what Chef Neal had in mind for us so I wanted to get to NOLA around 6 to see if we could get our seats early. Lynn had to take a nap due to drinking one hurricane too many, and we headed to NOLA around 8. Along the way I overheard two women talking about where to eat, and one said to the other that she didn't want to eat at an Emeril restaurant because "it's just like everything else". I take it she's never eaten at one before, or maybe she's from some city that's rich in nouveau creole restaurants that make great food. We got to NOLA and spoke to the maitre d' (the normal maitre d') and he told us that he had just sat a couple in the seats we wanted and that they'd probably be finished around 9:30, but to come back at about 9:15.
We were on our way back to NOLA at 9:15 when I overheard a group of three people trying to find someplace to eat. The only woman in the group mentioned something about going into NOLA, when one of the guys called it "boring and tedious" and said it was "too foo foo". The lady didn't say anything about it after the "expert" was done ranting. It was too bad she listened to him because she'd never know what she was missing.
We got to NOLA and the couple were still in their seats. They had ordered the night's tasting menu, and they had just finished their entrees. We tried to wait patiently at the bar, but Lynn decided it was a good idea for her to avoid drinking for the rest of the night. I didn't feel like drinking either so it was a little uncomfortable waiting at the bar.
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Since I had nothing better to do I took a couple of photos of the kitchen in action. Lynn was worried the maitre d' would forget about us and I kept telling her to trust him, he was a professional. (I once saw him kick a couple of people out of the seats at the chef's bar that they tried to sit at after he had already told them there weren't any seats available. I appreciated it since those were my seats.) While we were waiting for the couple to leave Chef Neal came over to the bar and said hello to us. It only took him a minute, but it made us feel appreciated.
The couple finally left, and Lynn wondered if the maitre d' forgot about us since we weren't seated immediately. I reminded Lynn that they wouldn't seat us before the places were set. That didn't stop Lynn from being impatient and wanting to tell the maitre d' that our seats were available. Not too much later the places were set and the maitre d' came over himself, instead of sending one of his minions like he normally does, and seated us. We were really excited. Our waiter came by and mentioned something about us not having our menus and getting them for us when Chef Neal said something to him. All I heard was the waiter ask, "Set them up Chef?", and Chef Neal's reply, "Set them up." The waiter turned to us with a big smile and said Chef was taking care of everything so we didn't need menus.
Chef Neal didn't tell us what he was going to give us, he just told us that if we had to stop to let him know.
The first course was a shrimp won ton, chicken sate, and baby spinach salad with a vinaigrette and marinated shitake mushrooms. The shrimp won ton was ok; it just tasted like shrimp in a won ton wrapper. On the other hand the chicken sate was outstanding; it had a spicy and complex flavor that put real Thai chicken sate to shame. The spinach salad was pretty good (if a little simple), and the mushrooms added a very nice meaty texture to the salad. (I'm beginning to notice that the really great restaurants prepare mushrooms in a way that I actually enjoy.)
The second course was a shrimp and pepper jack spring roll with a creamy chipotle sauce, sunomono, mango spears, and guacamole. This was one of the oddest combinations I've ever heard of, and it turned out to be one of the best thought out plates of food I've ever had. The spring roll was a lot tastier than it sounded to me, and when eaten with the chipotle sauce it was enough to make you want to dance around in your seat. The chipotle sauce didn't pull any punches either; it was very hot, but it also had the beautiful smokiness and complexity that makes chipotles so damn tasty. When the heat became too much you could always cool your mouth down with the sunomono, which was soothing and very tasty in it's own right. How you ate the mango spears and guacamole was up to you, but every combination I tried was delicious. You could have the mango spears with the guacamole for something creamy, sweet, and fruity for a very nice change of pace from the spicy, smokey, cheesy, seafood yum of the spring roll-chipotle sauce combination. Another way to have it was to eat the spring roll with the guacamole instead of the chipotle sauce for a creamier, less spicy, almost soothing experience. You could also dip the mango spear in the chipotle sauce for a mind numbingly spicy, smokey, sweet, and fruity great experience. That's what I loved about this plate; nothing was extraneous/everything had a purpose (most even more than one!). The flavors were balanced and harmonious together, even in different combinations, and the textures were varied and totally added to the experience. There wasn't one thing I disliked or thought could be improved on the entire plate. In fact me and Lynn both ate everything on the plate (and everything but the won ton on the first plate) so Chef Neal warned us not to eat too much because there was still a lot more to come.
Chef Neal actually presented us with two items for the third course: the first item, a crab-mushroom-cheese flauta [Chef Neal used a French word for the flauta, but I can't remember what it is so you get what I know it as, a flauta], with palm hearts and a cream sauce, and the second item, a seared scallop in barley soup with a goat cheese and prosciutto dumpling. The first thing I noticed was that the seared scallop wasn't seared. I tried it anyway, but it wasn't that good. After already having eaten great seared scallops twice on this trip I was disappointed to find NOLA's the worst. The barley soup wasn't making anything any better either. At least the goat cheese and prosciutto dumpling was awesome. The flauta thing was great too. It was pure creamy and subtle goodness. I took Chef Neal's words to heart and I didn't eat all of the flauta thing, or the dumpling, but they were so delicious it was difficult not to.
The fourth course was a pan fried red fish with crawfish and roasted corn sauce. The fish was a little dry so it wasn't very good. The crawfish and roasted corn sauce was pretty tasty though, and that's what I ate most of.
Something that was cool about the meal was that Chef Neal served us himself, and he'd grab whoever was around to help him with the other plate. Sometimes it would be a waiter, or one of the kitchen assistants, or even the sommelier (who seemed to enjoy it a lot). Additionally, after Chef Neal presented our plates he'd always stand there and explain what it was he was feeding us even though his kitchen was busy with the Saturday night rush. I was amazed to get that kind of personal service given the circumstances.
The fifth course was the intermezzo. Chef Neal brought us two small cups full of lemon sorbet. The sorbet was amazingly tart, but it served it's purpose as it was also refreshing.
The sixth course was another course with 2 items: the first was the smoked duck with buttermilk cornbread, and candied pecans, and the second item was roasted pork shoulder (seared on the grill) with polenta and caramelized onion sauce. Chef Neal explained that the smoked duck was basically a confit and said, "Well since you guys are foodies you know what that means." Neither me or Lynn were familiar with the term confit, but we weren't about to tell Chef Neal that either. (We may love food, but that doesn't mean we're good with French cooking terms.) Anyway, the smoked duck was the first entree I ever had at NOLA three years ago, and it has been consistently sublime, and one of the best things I've had at any restaurant. I can't even describe it so I'll just say that if you like duck you should give the smoked duck a try at least once. The pork shoulder was surprisingly tough given that it was roasted, and not that tasty. The caramelized onion sauce wasn't as good as you would expect it to be, and it wasn't good enough to fix the tough pork shoulder. The polenta was really great though. It's the first polenta that I've had that's been thick enough since Europe. This would have been thick enough to stand a spoon in if you put it in a cup. It was also suprisingly smooth with a heavy flavor that was more suited to beef than pork. I still ate as much of the polenta as I could manage. At this point Lynn wasn't feeling well so she stopped eating.
The seventh course was beef tenderloin and garlic mashed potatoes with a port reduction sauce and all sorts of other extraneous things. After Chef Neal gave us the steak he told us he was done. We couldn't have asked for anything more so we weren't disappointed. The mashed potatoes were ok, but luckily it wasn't important. The steak was excellent, and the port reduction was even better (if that's possible). It was a shame that Lynn wasn't feeling well because it left me the entire steak. Even though I was stuffed I ate the entire thing; it was that good, and I couldn't bear the thought of the steak going to waste.
The eighth and final course was a bevy of desserts: pineapple ice cream, chocolate ice cream, the chocolate buzz bomb, banana layer cake, and chocolate-peanut butter pie. Both the ice creams were excellent. I'd already had the buzz bomb and the banana layer cake two nights earlier, and they were the same. I didn't like the chocolate-peanut butter pie at all.
It was pretty late as we finished our up our meal, but I didn't realize how late it was until I saw, for the first time, the chefs clean up their kitchen. Watching them fill and wrap up containers, wipe down counters, and clean everything spotless was almost as interesting as watching them cook. It also reminded me exactly how much work their job is.
We wanted to get a picture with Chef Neal and thank him for an excellent dinner before we left, but after the steak he said he had to go upstairs but that he'd be back later. Lynn was feeling sick (due to the hangover she didn't realize she got from the hurricanes), and we tried to stay long enough to see Chef Neal again, but Lynn's nausea was getting the best of her. We left. We made it as far as the Napoleon House and Lynn puked in the gutter almost right in front of the front doors. This was getting to be a bad habit, but at least Lynn didn't do it in front of NOLA this time. Afterwards we walked (slowly) back to the hotel and talked about all the things we liked about the meal. NOLA is now Lynn's all-time favorite restaurant, but I know that the food is only part of it. The unique experience of Chef Neal, the chef's bar, the excellent wine pairings, and the genuinely friendly wait staff and sommeliers was what clinched it for her. I can't say I really blame her since NOLA is my favorite restaurant too.
Naturally we passed all sorts of loud ass drunks on Bourbon Street before we got back to our hotel. I wanted to stay out on Bourbon since the only other time I managed to be in New Orleans on a Saturday night was when I had the flu and felt the need to stay in bed. I knew Lynn didn't want to go out, and it wasn't like I was up for drinking and staying up late either so we just went to sleep.
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I woke up at a decent hour, but Lynn still wasn't feeling well so she didn't want to get up. I decided to take the opportunity to walk around the French Quarter and get myself some breakfast and pick up something for lunch later. I was in the mood for pastries, while Lynn wanted me to find her some good bread. I spoke with Michael and he told me about a couple of good places for pastries and bread.
I walked outside and the first thing I noticed was that the weather was really nice. I was a little annoyed since the weather got cold the day after we arrived, and now it was getting nice on the day we were leaving. Oh well, that's December weather in New Orleans for you. The first place I headed to was CC's for one of those tasty blueberry strudels. After that I went to Central Grocery to get a muffaletta for lunch. The line at Central Grocery was a lot longer than I expected, but since they're supposed to make the muffaletta I decided to deal with the line (once anyway). The line was so long that what I had planned to be only a 20 minute walk ended up taking more than an hour. I stopped at le Madeline (which I didn't know at the time was a chain) and got Lynn a sourdough bread, and picked up an apple turnover for myself. My last stop was the convenience store almost directly across from our hotel for some milk to go with my pastries.
When I got back to the hotel room Lynn decided it was time for her to get up. While she showered I ate my pastries. The blueberry strudel was just as good as the first time I had it a few nights earlier. The apple turnover was stuffed with applesauce; that was not a welcome surprise, but that's what I get for buying a pastry from a place Michael recommended for bread and not for pastries. Next time I don't care how convenient it is, I'll make the extra effort.
Lynn wanted to get the cake server we had looked at (like everyday) before we left New Orleans. We headed to the antique shop, and had to cross Bourbon Street in the process. Lynn was amazed how badly Bourbon Street smelled on a Sunday morning. (She actually didn't think it was that much worse than Bourbon Street on any given night, but it was more than she could take. Lynn will probably never spend any kind of time on Bourbon Street if she can help it since she finds the smell repulsive.) Anyway, the one thing that was kept us from getting the cake server was the eternal question of whether or not it was worth the price. Well we never actually got around to finding out what the price was, and when we got to the antique shop I finally noticed that it was only $20 (being only a silver plated cake server, and not solid silver). Duh! We bought it, and Lynn was disgustingly happy about having a cake server for our upcoming wedding. I wanted to buy myself and my mom some of those tasty truffles from Grenier e Chocolat, but when we got there they were closed. That was the heartbreak of my trip. I kept thinking if I had only remembered to stop there when I was searching for breakfast they probably would have been open.
We got back to the hotel, and caught a cab to the airport. The cab driver drove like a maniac. The first clue was when he was driving us out of the Quarter he kept honking his horn at the guy stopped in front of him, and the guy was stopped in front of him because it was a red light. Red lights didn't matter to this cab driver; he ran a couple just to prove to the guy behind him (who was previously the guy in front of him, but when he didn't run the red light our driver went through the oncoming traffic lane to pass him) how unimportant red lights were. At least there weren't any red lights on the freeway. Lacking red lights he amused himself by weaving in and out of traffic, and testing his cars acceleration and braking capability. Normally other peoples' crazy driving doesn't bother me, but this guy drove like he anticipated being chased by the police one day and he wanted to practice his eventual high speed chase. To his credit we did get to the airport in one piece although I don't know if that was intentional.
While waiting for our airplane I ate my muffaletta, and determined muffalettas aren't my thing. It wasn't a bad sandwich, I just wouldn't pay to eat one again. That was the same way I felt after the muffaletta I ate the first time I was in New Orleans. I should have stuck by that conclusion, but I figured it was probably a bad example of a muffaletta. Ultimately it was a bad example of a muffaletta, but the good muffaletta from Central Grocery wasn't that much better to me.
When we landed in Phoenix, we were walking to pick up our luggage when Lynn said she could move to New Orleans with me. I happened to mention that she had said the exact same thing about Philadelphia. She replied that I take her to all sorts of places she's never been to before. I reminded her that she didn't live that far from Philadelphia most of her life, and she had been there quite a few times before. She simply responded, "It's different with you." [I know it's really sappy, but it was a good way to end the trip, and I had to include it.]
The camera I used was a Canon Powershot G2 digital camera, which is still a very cool camera. Some minor touch ups were done in Photoshop. (I'm sure the touch ups could have been done better, but I still lack the patience to examine every photo, so you get what you get.) When I took the pictures I really liked them, but after looking at them a little more critically I decided they are only ok. I hope you think they're better than ok though.
Anyway, you know the rest: the pictures are copyright by me, and unauthorized use is prohibited.
