Cuisine Review

Gustav presents chance to revisit NOLA

It was a bucolic day in the French Quarter. People were milling around, some drinking, others shopping – you would have never guessed that Gustav was three days away.

It was not my intent to drive into the storm zone, but my plans were still on for the weekend and I thought I would make the most of it. If I had stayed at home, there would be nothing to do. I drove over on Friday knowing I would be driving back the next day, unless the situation changed, and was resigned to that fact.

Originally I had made reservations to eat at Mr. B’s, and the restaurant called me on Thursday to ask if I was going to still show up, only for me to arrive Friday afternoon to find that they had decided to close. My party was small, and thinking about what would be right around my hotel I quickly remembered NOLA, Emeril’s second restaurant in New Orleans was close by.

I had not been there in at least a dozen years for no other reason that once Emeril got all famous, my interest was lost. The whole hype and fanfare, with the “bam” and overindulgence in pork fat just turned me off. Believe me; the meals I ate at Emeril’s and NOLA were always fantastic. But the experiences dining at Delmonico, his third New Orleans restaurant, were a lot like the show. The entrée descriptions ran to a paragraph and in such combinations that once the food arrived you had to think about what you had actually ordered. And while NOLA has some intricate descriptions, they are apt to make sense.

NOLA is located on St. Louis Street just a few steps away from Chartres in a yellow townhouse. I had neglected to remember until we left the restaurant later in the evening that the logo is a swirling storm. I did not take this as an ominous sign.

The restaurant is decorated in steels, deep blues and yellow with starched white tablecloths and an immense bar. Arriving for our eight o’clock reservation, it was pleasing to see a packed house. Like everyone else we had run into, most people thought it a bit early to panic and run out of town. One more night, residents said, before we decide to leave.

We waited just a bit, long enough for a quick drink, before being seated on the second floor. A glass elevator takes you upstairs to another large dining room, with many tables, but spaced far enough apart that it is hard to eavesdrop. (I know because I tried in vain, trying to hear what people were saying about their situation and plans.)

Like so many fine restaurants in New Orleans, we had two people serving our table, the waiter and another who was Johnny-on-the-spot clearing plates, bringing us drinks and bread. And please excuse me for not having prices, in the haste of it all I forgot to take a menu. All entrée were around the $27 to $37 range.

There are many appetizers to start with, among them a famous Gulf Coast dish that he has named as his own – Emeril’s barbecued Gulf shrimp with rosemary biscuit. For the unfamiliar, this is not shrimp off the grill glazed with Dreamland sauce. The shrimp are cooked in the oven with a mixture of seasonings and lots of butter and oil. The best thing to have alongside is buttered French bread, or in this case an enormous biscuit to mop up all of the sauce left behind.

Another smart appetizer choice would be the gulf oysters and crabmeat cooked in the wood oven with garlic butter and herb bread crumbs. Rather than a salad, I wanted to try the roasted garlic-Reggiano Parmesan bisque with basil pesto, but was led away from this since I also wanted an entrée with garlic.

The waiter suggested I forgo one of them, for good reason. My eyes darted back up to the appetizers to choose the duck confit and fried egg pizza with Parmesan cheese, truffle oil and baby arugula. Yes, this is a long one to get into your head, as the description is so long, but all of the ingredients together I knew would be decadent. And it was, with shards of juicy duck atop a crispy crust, sprinkled with arugula, dusted with cheese and drizzled with oil. No one else wanted to really touch the fried egg, but it is what made the dish complete. The rich taste of the duck and truffle oil, with the bitterness of the lettuce melded together with the mild egg.

The entrée side of the menu made it difficult to decide upon, even though my eyes led me straight to the garlic crusted Texas Redfish cooked in the wood burning oven with Brabant potatoes, wild mushrooms, bacon and sauce beurre rouge. Due to regulations, it is almost impossible to find redfish these days, and it is one of my favorites. My platter of redfish arrived with the beurre rouge sauce on the side. A “red butter” this sauce is just like a beurre blanc but made with red wine instead of white, using pan drippings combined with sautéed shallots, red wine and vinegar (often balsamic) and most importantly, cold butter that was sublime.

The fish was quite mellow, tender, made rich by the perfectly prepared sauce. Brabant potatoes are my favorite starch preparation. Cubed potatoes are fried in oil, tossed in a hot mixture of olive oil, butter, garlic and parsley.

There were four of us, and two ordered the shrimp & grits with sautéed gulf shrimp, grilled green onions, smoked cheddar grits, apple smoked Bacon, Crimini mushrooms, Creole tomato glaze and red chili-Abita butter sauce. It was light on the tomato and heavy on the warmth found with lots of smoky flavor imparted in this dish.

My companions liked it, but no one licked their plate. Likely, since you find this just about everywhere now, it seems like nothing special. What all of us wanted and talked about, the buttermilk fried breast of chicken with bourbon mashed sweet potatoes, Smithfield ham cream gravy and sautéed sugar snap peas, the last friend ordered. Not only was it enormous, but just is something you no longer see on a menu. It was as good as it is described.

All it took was a threatened storm to lead me into this one, and I was glad it did. On my six-hour drive home, I wondered if this would be my last meal in New Orleans. I am happy for everyone that it will not be.

And not the last in NOLA either.

Kinnon Phillips is Lagniappe cuisine editor. Contact him at kphillips@lagniappemobile.com.

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