While I lived in New Orleans, one of my favorite go-to restaurants was Jacques-Imo's Cafe, a restaurant heavily frequented by Tulane students and alumni, among other eager New Orleans residents. If you want to dine at Jacques-Imo's, you have to arrive early and free your schedule of all evening plans, as you are guaranteed to wait in line to be seated at this popular eatery, even with reservations.
Each meal at Jacques-Imo's begins with a moist cornbread muffin garnished with feathery chopped parsley and a light plate of complimentary spinach salad. The salad is drizzled with biting balsamic vinegar and topped with a flavorful "crouton of the sea," a battered, breaded, and deep-fried oyster with luscious green entrails.
.jpg)
Next, after the salad, comes Jacques-Imo's appetizers. I've enjoyed the crab cakes at Jacques-Imo's. Their crab cakes are served on a delicate bed of greens and dressed with a silken, coral-colored remoulade sauce. The crab cakes are made with blue crab (which is prevalent on the East Coast) and seasoned with fiery Bayou spices. The crab meat in the cakes does not come in large chunks, but wispy, stringy threads, and the meat is bound together with heavy seasoned breading that has classic Southern undertones of Thanksgiving stuffing.
.jpg)
I highly recommend the oysters brochette appetizer, which is made of oysters wrapped in a thick-cut pieces of fat-laden bacon. The bacon-wrapped oyster is coated in cornmeal, deep-fried until golden-brown and served either on oyster shells or a hot serving plate doused with a luxuriously thick and flavorful oyster gravy and simply garnished with chopped scallions and parsley. The fresh herbs bring out the meaty and welcoming flavors of the bacon and the velvety texture of the oysters. As a warning, this is not an appetizer for the cholesterol-adverse.
.jpg)
.jpg)
As for entrées, I can unequivocally say that the best entrée in all of Jacques-Imo's, is the signature carpetbagger steak, which comes topped with a hamburger-sized slice of grilled red onion. The menu claims that the onion is caramelized, but in my several visits to Jacques-Imo's, I noticed a bit of a crunch to the sweet red onion slice. The tender, melt-in-your-mouth steak is really the masterful centerpiece of the entrée. The steak is a supple filet cut, and is enriched with the decadent blue cheese and oyster tasso dressing. Each buttery bite of the steak finishes on a high note with the tangy blue cheese gravy, and you might catch a surprising chunk of briny oyster in each forkful.
.jpg)
Jacques-Imo's also serves a variety of fish entrées, including mirliton with oyster tasso hollandaise, but I suggest you order the carpetbagger steak over any fish selection.
.jpg)
Also, included with your meal at Jacques-Imo's, is your choice of classic Southern side dishes, including slow-cooked collard greens, long-grain white rice, soupy butter beans, buttered and spiced corn, and cubed beets.
.jpg)
You won't have room for dessert if your order the oysters brochette and carpetbagger steak. Your pants will be unzipped before you have finished half of the entrée. But I promise, at the end of your meal at Jacques-Imo's, your bursting stomach will already be thanking you profusely.
In the early 90s, I remember watching Paul Prudhomme on his cooking show and an unknown Emeril Lagasse on Great Chefs. Both shows aired on my local P.B.S. station. It was through those shows that I first learned of Commander's Palace in New Orleans, Louisiana--the very restaurant that launched the careers of Prudhomme and Lagasse, putting them on the national culinary map. I would never have imagined that I would one day have the privilege of dining at Commander's Palace, or that I would eventually live in New Orleans.
If you are unfamiliar with Commander's Palace, I think I could say that it is arguably the "best" and most iconic restaurant of New Orleans. It has a rich culinary legacy that has been defined by time (the restaurant itself dates from the 1800s), its owners, and its classic location. Currently, the Brennan family dynasty owns Commander's Palace and a bevy of other upscale (and pricey) establishments in the New Orleans area, including Ralph Brennan's Bacco and Café Adelaide. You will arrive the illustrious Commander's Palace by following the tree-lined boulevards in New Orleans' wealthy Garden District, but the whimsical "bird" decorations and colors inside the restaurant will amuse you more than the gorgeous neighborhood surroundings.
The evening that we dined at Commander's Palace, the beau started with the turtle soup au sherry. The turtle soup filled the air with a buttery and rich aroma, and was dense with soft pieces of the holy trinity (bell peppers, onions, and celery), tiny cubes of hard-boiled eggs, and chewy morsels of diced turtle meat. When our server brought out the shallow bowl of steaming soup, she drizzled cool sherry over the top of the soup. The beau eagerly swirled the sherry throughout his bowl, permitting the sherry to lend its tartness to warm brothy goodness.
I also selected soup as my starter. However, I instead opted for the gumbo du jour, which was made with a rich shrimp stock, chocolately dark roux, and other fresh regional ingredients. I found the gumbo to be thinner than the gumbo at Acme Oyster House and less substantial at Emeril's Nola, but it was slightly sweet and intensely flavorful, packed a bit of spicy heat, and contained large chunks of duck meat.
We eagerly used the glistening and buttery pieces of golden garlic dill bread to sop up all of the remaining soup left in the bowls.
For his main course, the beau ordered the deep-fried soft shell crab, which was injected with an acidic French-inspired ravigote sauce. The menu indicated the the crab was injected so that the crab would be "marinate[d] from the inside out." The crab was served with an amusing salad of scallions, petite herbs, grape tomatoes, and red onions in a spicy horseradish and grainy dijon mustard sauce, and a drizzling of liquified basil. The crab also came with mashed crab boiled vegetables, upon which the crab was served. The crab's deep-fried breaded coating was crunchy and perfectly contained the soft crabmeat flakes and shell.
I ordered "Commander's mixed grill," which came with a selection of meats finished with a housemade Worcestershire sauce. The meats included a hickory grilled tournedo of beef, rabbit tenderloin, and spicy lamb and rabbit sausages. The protein-heavy dish was served with mustard greens braised in New Orleans Abita beer, Creole smashed new potatoes, and a sweet and chunky huckleberry and cherry compote. I loved the tenderness of all of the meats, the different selection of proteins highlighted the distinctive gamey flavors of the lamb and the rabbit. Also, the contrasting sweetness of the compote and the savory flavors of the meat and greens really made an impact on my palate. Everything was cleverly prepared.
We ended our evening with a classic New Orleans dessert with a lot of fanfare, bananas foster, which was flambéed at our tableside. The server halved the bananas; cooked them in butter, brown sugar, Caribbean rum, banana liqueur; set the bananas ablaze; and poured the mixture over a rotund scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.
Check out the video of our bananas foster in action here:I hope this post inspired you to visit New Orleans soon, and stop by Commander's Palace for a divine meal!
When I moved to the City of New Orleans, I had my my first upscale dining experience at Emeril's Nola Restaurant. I remember that day quite vividly. After securing a last minute reservation online, the beau frantically rummaged through his luggage to find clothes appropriate for an elegant dining establishment. He wanted to treat me out to a memorable meal the day before he was going to return back to the Bay Area. We excitedly threw together a strange ensemble of clothing with the "touristy" and summery outfits in our baggage, and drove to the French Quarter from our hotel on Saint Charles Avenue, to sample the food prepared by the Food Network star.
We felt a little out of place upon arrival because of our clothing, but were immediately welcomed with a freshly baked basket of Emeril Lagasse's famous scallion cornbread muffins.
After reading the mouthwatering menu selections, the beau and I decided to start with the pan-roasted crab cake. The crab cake had a crispy and evenly browned exterior and was topped with a delicate dollop of smoky eggplant puree and crinkly leaves of fried spinach. The crab patty was served on a plate scattered with substantial crumbles feta cheese and pitted kalamata olives, and placed in a pool liquefied citrus butter. The classically flavored crab cake was moist and bound together well with fine bread crumbs and New Orleans seasonings. I thought the crab cake itself was delicious and had a relatively good crab meat to breadcrumb filler ratio. However, while I love kalamata olives and feta cheese, I found them to be too salty and a tad overwhelming in comparison with the delicate crab cake and citrus butter flavors.
The beau and I each had a bowl of Emeril's gumbo. I know I will make many enemies by saying this, but after having (and loving) the thick okra or file-enriched gumbos at Mother's and Acme Oyster House, I noticed that the gumbo was more watery than I had envisioned. However, the penetrating flavors of the spicy gumbo were deep, earthy and left a fiery, burning sensation in the back of my throat. I also loved the simple touch of how the chocolate-colored gumbo was served, ladled into a shallow bowl and topped with chopped green scallions.
For the main course, I ordered the hickory-roasted duck with whiskey-caramel glaze, natural jus, buttermilk cornbread pudding, haricot verts, fire roasted corn salad, and candied pecans. The haricot verts were blanched perfectly, so that they retained their verdant color and vibrant "fresh produce" crunch. I loved the chilled, sweet corn kernels, the sugary candied walnuts, and the moist bed of cornbread stuffing. However, I found that the dry, jerky-like duck meat to be over-saturated with the strong flavors of hickory smoke, and the glaze and the jus had concentrated unappetizingly into a salty syrup.
The beau ordered grilled pork porterhouse with brown sugar glazed sweet potatoes, toasted pecans, and a caramelized onion reduction sauce. It definitely had similar taste and textural elements as my duck entree, but without the same shortcomings. The pork was tender and juicy, and the slippery slices of sweet potatoes tasted like a Thanksgiving feast with the pecans and oniony gravy.
I was originally going to name this post "No Love for Emeril's Nola," but after reminiscing, I realize that there was a lot to appreciate in bold, experimental flavors in each dish. While I felt a little overwhelmed to an extent by the salt and sugar used in each entree, my tastebuds have a lot to learn from the master. Bam!
My favorite po' boys in the City may be found at Domilise's.
Although Domilise's po' boys are delicious enough alone to attract the masses, you will find that the most potent reason to go to Domilise's is for Dot Domilise, the beloved proprietor of Domilise's. If you greet her with a genuine smile and pleasant conversation, she may invite you into her nearby home to meet her family dog, and share with you stories about her grandchildren and the Manning brothers (whose many pictures--from childhood to adulthood to the NFL--are carefully hung upon the restaurant walls). Dot's generosity abounds, and she epitomizes Southern charm, grace, and kindness. However, Dot has encountered her share of struggles since Hurricane Katrina. Although her sandwich shop is still standing, Dot had to rebuild her restaurant, replacing costly refrigeration equipment and refurbishing other damaged areas of her business. It is evident that New Orleans has not fully recovered from Hurricane Katrina, however, it is heartening to see how Domilise's bounced back as far as it could, and Dot has retained her loyal clientele and managed to keep her business bustling, even despite the rising costs of food and fuel.
As for Domilise's sandwiches, it is not hard to see why Dot's customers are so loyal. The large "half & half" (for any 1-2 combo of fried oysters, shrimp, or catfish) is the most delicious option. The freshness at Domilise's is palpable. The servers do not start your sandwich until you order. Therefore, you can watch first hand as the gurgling cascade of bubbles bristle and rise to the surface when your battered seafood is dropped in stainless steel frying baskets into hot oil. Po' boys at Domilise's are always assembled as you wait.
Every po' boy at Domilise's starts with torpedo-sized loaf of fresh French bread. If you order the oyster and catfish half and half, with each bite of your po' boy, you will inevitably been greeted with a piercing crunch, and then the chewy tug of the yeasty French bread against your tightened jaws. Each green-tinged oyster is gummy, perfectly briny with the saltiness of the sea, and mouthwateringly savory. The tender, pristine flakes of white catfish are so delicate and fresh, they exude a soft fishy sweetness with each bite.
Peer into the depths of yo' po' boy sandwich, and notice the shimmering, glistening specks of "dressed" goodness, or hot sauce and mayonnaise, peeking underneath the heavy bread roof and through the rugged terrain of shredded lettuce, pickles, and golden-fried oyster nuggets and catfish filets. Now, that, my folks, is a sandwich to write home about.
Ah, heaven. I hope you enjoyed my description of my po' boy, as much as I enjoyed eating it!
Recently, my friend brought me out to Drago's Seafood Restaurant in the Riverwalk Marketplace to relax, converse, and enjoy a leisurely evening of Drago's often-imitated, but never duplicated chargrilled oysters at their oyster bar. Unfortunately, our evening was interrupted by the looming fact that we had to return back to work that evening, to finish up various projects before their rapidly approaching deadlines. However, but we had an enjoyable dinner nonetheless, in large part because of Drago's oysters.
Why are these oysters so special and so sought after? It is all in their signature preparation.
Drago's world-famous chargrilled oysters are first slathered with a heavenly marinade of butter, chopped garlic, and vibrant herbs. Then, Drago's chefs proceed to cook the oysters on the grill, and generously shake handfuls of fine cheese powder over the oysters during the grilling process.
Flames lick and dance mercilessly upon the oysters until the entire exposed oyster surface is encrusted with a gooey, yet rough and seemingly calcified parmesan and pecorino romano cheese barrier.
The supple and incredibly juicy oysters are served with significant wedges of yeasty french bread, which may be used to sop up the liquified butter and oyster liqueur that collects within the oyster shells.
In addition to Drago's "killer delicious" oysters, that evening, I ordered another winner: the "shuckee duckee," which my friend noted was charmingly named after the oyster (thus the "shuckee") and the duck (thus the "duckee") components. The dish came with two tender and smoky duck breasts, which were scored with a knife and blackened on the surface, but crimson and trembling within. The al dente linguini pasta accompanying the duck breasts was carefully tossed in a decadent cream sauce interspersed with chewy nubs of chopped oysters.
My friend ordered the mesquite-grilled gulf shrimp which had been seasoned with fiery New Orleans spices, and tossed with fresh garden ingredients, including cucumbers, tomatoes, and mixed greens.
Though we had to take our uneaten entrees back to the office in doggie bag containers, we enjoyed our evening, and our oysters. I hope this post did the convincing, in that Drago's oysters are definitely something worth writing home about!
I may be the only one to ever order takeout from Herbsaint.
Ever.
A few days ago, I was presented with a problem. I was very busy at work, I was hungry for lunch, and I was in the mood for an upscale lunch--at my desk. So I called the celebrated New Orleans restaurant, Herbsaint, and our conversation went as follows:
"Hi, you don't serve takeout do you? Well, I am in the mood for your grilled flatbread. You know, the one topped with shrimp, spinach, provolone cheese, and garlic butter?"
"Err. Well, we are not that kind of a restaurant. First, we don't have takeout containers. Second, we pride ourselves on 'presentation,' and with takeout, that is not really possible. However, we'll see what we can do. Conceivably, we 'could' wrap the flatbread up in foil for you."
"Oh, hells yeah! I'm over there in 15 minutes! Outs!"
And just like that, I became the first person to ever order takeout from Herbsaint.
With their immaculately delicious flatbread, its not hard to understand why one would vehemently crave Herbsaint's food at anytime of the day.
Allow me to describe why I love Herbsaint's flatbread (so much so that I would subject myself to the scorn of society, by ordering takeout from an upscale, non-takeout kind-of-place). Herbsaint's flatbread is made of a blistered, crackery, paper-thin bread base. Browned grill marks evenly underscore the bottom of the crispy unleavened bread, and the surface of the bread is generously slathered with melted garlic butter. The crunchy flatbread is also topped with flavorful proportions of (1) chopped shrimp nuggets, bursting with juices and perfectly-cooked shrimp texture, (2) a generous blanket of grated provolone cheese, and (3) soft tufts of spinach, which are carefully nestled into crevices of the flatbread. All of these elements combine to make one of the most amazing parties for your tastebuds, ever.
And the unrivaled fragrance of the bread will make your mouth water uncontrollably. The overpowering garlicky + cheesy aroma wafting from the surface of the bread will make your heart stop dead in its tracks and cause tears to instantaneously fall freely from your flowing tear ducts. The pungent cheese odor is so powerful, it will make you feel that you just opened the sealed doors to a den storing five tons of aging parmesan cheese. It is that good.
After reading this post, you might ask me now, "Was it worth the mortification, of being known as the one and only person to ever order takeout from Herbsaint?" Reflecting upon my meal, I have just one thing to say:
Absolutely.
Now that Hurricane Gustav has blown through Louisiana, and Hurricane Ike is rearing its ugly head towards the Texas and Louisiana coastlines, I want to take this quick opportunity to continue my impromptu takeout series, and emphasize that even in the face of a hurricane, New Orleans' natives still know how to eat well and celebrate life.
You've heard me "love on" Louisiana crawfish, time and time again. I am going to continue the love, by sharing about my takeout experiences at Deanie's Seafood Restaurant and Market.
The other day, while sitting at my desk, I had an insatiable urge for crawfish: the paradigmatic seafood critter of Louisiana. So I made a quick telephone call and ordered Deanie's famed crawfish quartet, which comes with crawfish, served four different ways. When I opened the styrofoam container, I was greeted with a giant plume of steam, a golden-fried bounty of crawfish, and two piping hot containers filled with crawfish (and more). Because I have now been armed with the experience of eating Deanie's crawfish, allow me to give you a brief tutorial on the correct way to eat their crawfish quartet.
You should first start your meal with the crispy-fried crawfish tails. The chefs at Deanie's carefully shell, batter, and deep-fry the chewy crawfish tails for your finger-licking consumption. Deanie's also provides you with two alternative dipping sauces: (1) a thick tartar sauce studded with chopped relish bits and (2) a zesty and sinus-clearing cocktail sauce.
Second, I'd advise you to proceed with the soft crawfish dressing balls, which are substantial orbs of moist and bready deliciousness, complete with bits of onions, celery, carrots, and crawfish interspersed throughout. They literally taste like fist-sized balls of Thanksgiving, but with one delicious twist: chewy nubs of crawfish, which provides for a delightful surprise in each bite.
Third, you should consider eating the crawfish etouffee next. Deanie's hearty crawfish etouffee is everything a great etouffee should be. The warming and creamy chowder-like soup is made with crawfish tails, a buttery blonde roux, and the holy trinity (onions, celery, and bell pepper), and is served "smothered" or gently ladled over mound of long-grain white rice.
Finally, I would enjoy the crawfish au gratin last. Deanie's crawfish au gratin is thicker-than-grits and supremely cheesy, such that each spoonful leaves trails of stringy cheese as you attempt to lift a spoon loaded with the au gratin towards your mouth. The au gratin tastes as if it were made with dry aged cheddar cheese, heavy cream, whole eggs, and flour--but that is just an educated guess. Even if it is not made with those ingredients, it tastes mind-blowingly delicious.
I hope this post has proven to you that takeout can be an excellent option, especially at Deanie's! Also, you could probably eat the dishes in the crawfish quartet in any sequence (and not based on my weak recommendation above), and it would still taste wonderful.
I've posted about Mother's Restaurant before... On several occasions. But I'm sure that by now, you've noticed that I love repeating myself, especially when it gives me the opportunity to post more pictures. For instance, I love talking about Acme Oyster House, again and again. Furthermore, if you are a regular reader, you may have wondered why I can't stop talking about Zea.
Well, this last Saturday, my rumbling stomach just happened to have a yearning for some classic N'awlins food, so I swung by my regular lunch standby and perpetual favorite, Mother's Restaurant. Here are my recommendations of what you should order when visit Mother's.
On Saturdays, be sure to order their special: an enriching bowl of Mae's filé gumbo, which is served with generous spoonfuls of fluffy long grain white rice and thick-cut rounds of smoky andouille sausage. Just a quick FYI: "filé powder" is a common gumbo ingredient and is a Native-American spice made from dried sassafras leaves, which has been ground to a fine powder with a mortar and pestle. Filé powder has thickening qualities similar to cornstarch, and may be used in gumbos, but only if okra is not an ingredient. (The gel in okra also acts as a thickening agent, so filé + okra tends to be overkill.)
You'll be prohibited from setting foot into Mother's (by me) if you don't order one of their famous po' boys, which are lightly buttered and dressed with pickles, shredded cabbage, and mayonnaise. Mother's po' boy bread is airy, and almost ethereal, and therefore acts as the perfect base for any po' boy filling. One delectable option is Mother's monstrous fried oyster po' boy, which is crammed with crunchy and golden-brown oysters that are perfectly creamy and slippery on the inside.
Another po' boy possibility is their signature invention: a roast beef "debris" po' boy which is drenched in a savory au jus and littered with stringy tendrils of slow cooked beef. The meat in a debris po' boy is not your typical sliced roast beef, but rather, the meat filling consists of the remnants in the roasting pan after a Sunday supper--thus, the "debris" name.
Finally, don't hesitate to reward yourself with a spongy slice of bread pudding. Mother's bread pudding is saturated with sweet liqueur and cream, spiced with nutmeg and cinnamon, and cooked with peaches and cherries. This pudd'n will most likely leave you loosening your pants for more.
If you are in the New Orleans area, I hope that these pictures inspire you to make your next lunch visit to Mother's in the near future. If you've never been to New Orleans, I hope this post has encouraged you to visit us!
