Author – Grant
Based In – New Orleans
Day 105 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614030417824/
Day 106 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614240126652/
Day 107 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614171512125/
Day 108 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614171575699/
So I haven’t written anything for a few days which is 100% laziness. I justified it in my own mind by saying that Tuesday to Friday this week should take on a fairly regulated formula (get up, go to “work”, do some exercise, eat some food and fall asleep) but obviously it didn’t so now I have just left myself with loads to report before the weekend’s insanity begins.
First, a medical update. Molly had the earlier appointment on Tuesday and she is the ginger closest to my heart so let’s start with her. Having discovered that there’s nothing wrong with her bones, the hope was that this specialist could pull her around like pizza dough and work out what ligaments or muscles are causing her recurring limp. The result? Another expensive shrug of the shoulders followed by the suggestion that she is strictly confined for 6 weeks so that whatever is wrong can heal naturally. A pretty frustrating suggestion given that she already und
erwent a 2 week confinement which we can’t tag on to this sentence as she’s been running round like a loony-tunes in the mean-time. When asked what we should do if 6 weeks confinement doesn’t work, our ever-helpful vet suggested taking her to a university hospital for a bone scan (kind of like a CAT scan but for dogs, not that a cat scan is for cats but you know what I mean) to see what’s happening inside the bones. “Perhaps it’s cancer” he cheerily suggested. I think I’d rather not know to be honest but we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Keep your due claws crossed we don’t.
Next up, Kate. She had 90 minutes of work done on teeth that have already had their canals thoroughly rooted and I got to witness it first hand as she is too scared to be left alone with the big fisted dentist. I took a book to read but I barely read a word of it as it was all pretty fascinating stuff. Kate was fairly oblivious to the whole affair as she was drugged up on a prescription relaxant called Zanax which must have a decent street value. Whilst her body was inactive, her mind was clearly in overdrive as it was still formulating cunning anti-dentist plans such as inducing a hiccup attack half-way through the procedure. Genius. The success of the procedure can only be measured in time but at the time of writing we are four days without migraine…a weekend of heavy drinking will give it a real test-drive though.
Whilst I’m not going to walk you through every morsel we have devoured in the last four days, two meals are worth special mention for very different reasons. Our dinner at Zea Rotisserie was memorable because I had a well deserved sl
ab of St Louis ribs (easily my favourite cut) and, possibly for the first time in my life, it beat me. In fact, I only had half of the juicy pork on offer but the plate contained a whopping 12 ribs which individually resembled a small steak and the entire dish could have easily fed a Mormon family. Well worth a visit if you happen to find yourself in one of the local budget hotels which, for your own safety, I hope you never do. The other meal was at August, John Besh’s flagship restaurant but more of that later.
Wednesday signified Kate’s long awaited return to volunteering after a two business day absence. Her unannounced lack of attendance without any sign of remorse or apology proved that she has taken on the
role of labourer with a level of authenticity that makes you tip your hat with respect. She can even do that “it’s gonna cost ya” noise by sucking through her teeth. There’s little to report of significance or interest about our building site exploits although in the week and a half we have been here, the apartments we have worked on have gone from asbestos caked shells to something that you could probably live in. And that is despite having to stop working and take cover for 30 minutes after a round of gunshots were heard in the street which, apparently, is a fairly common occurrence in this hardy neighbourhood. The “Thou Shalt Not Kill” street signs are a bit of a warning to people who visit which is worrying given that the Mardi Gras parades will pass very close to here over the weekend. Presumably they speed up at this point, much like the Marathon in the Commonwealth Games when it passed through the seedier suburbs of Manchester. At the moment the shots rang out I had a huge, loaded nail gun in my hand and a full tool belt containing various blunt and sharp weapons which I’m thinking of making my Mardi Gras costume as it’s the perfect combination of both quirky and practical.
On to the other noteworthy meal of the previous four days…and cue the involuntary mouthwatering induced solely through thinking and writing about food. I wonder if my exit from this mortal world will be through saliva induced lap-top electrocution? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Local boy John Besh is
a bit of a legend around these here parts and no visit to the Big Easy (coincidentally Kate’s nickname at High School) would be complete without sampling his fair at one of his four restaurants. His flagship is based in the heart of the French Quarter and was our chosen destination, assuming we could navigate past the Muses parade crowd in time. Whatever romantic notions you have of the French Quarter’s history and architecture, bin them. The place is New Orleans Cheesy Party Central where you are fairly likely to be pissed or puked on so be prepared or don’t come. Still, there’s going to be a lot of parade chat over the next few days so I’ll keep this one to a minimum.
First thing to say about the restaurant is that it’s seriously old school with dark wood paneled walls and waiters in classic French black and white formal wear which, for me, just strays the wrong side of the casual / fine dining border but, thanks to the passing parade and it’s attached revelers, it was fairly noisy on the night we visited which we were thankful for as eating surrounded by hushed whispers isn’t physically possible for me. On to the food. The menu is inspired by local, seasonal produce and hence it regularly changes. It is also relatively small with only 3 or 4 choices per genre (meat, fish, appetizers etc) but on the night we visited, pretty much everything sounded exquisite. In addition to the a la carte menu, they do a five course tasting menu and an undisclosed 13 course degustion menu for which you must allow a minimum of three hours. Kate kindly agreed to join me for the five course tasting menu with wine pairing as she could see the longing in my eyes and as much as I would have loved to do the 13 course extravaganza, the truth is that it would probably contain too many entrail and offal based dishes that Kate wouldn’t enjoy. The idea of the night is supposed to be enjoyment for both of us, not just ecstasy for one and an episode of Fear Factor for the other.
Despite ordering five courses, nothing gets the juices flowing like an extra free course. Bring on the amuse bouche of Seafood Custard topped with Truffle Infused Sabayon and Louisiana Caviar served in a hollowed out egg shell complete with a tiny toast “soldier” which is a play on the famous Thomas Keller dish. Let’s lay down the rules for the rest of this review; unless I say otherwise it was either awesome or incredible. This was no exception with a really subtle hint of truffle that still allowed the delicate seafood taste to come through in the custard. Yum.
Based In – New Orleans
Day 105 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614030417824/
Day 106 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614240126652/
Day 107 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614171512125/
Day 108 Photos – http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157614171575699/
So I haven’t written anything for a few days which is 100% laziness. I justified it in my own mind by saying that Tuesday to Friday this week should take on a fairly regulated formula (get up, go to “work”, do some exercise, eat some food and fall asleep) but obviously it didn’t so now I have just left myself with loads to report before the weekend’s insanity begins.
First, a medical update. Molly had the earlier appointment on Tuesday and she is the ginger closest to my heart so let’s start with her. Having discovered that there’s nothing wrong with her bones, the hope was that this specialist could pull her around like pizza dough and work out what ligaments or muscles are causing her recurring limp. The result? Another expensive shrug of the shoulders followed by the suggestion that she is strictly confined for 6 weeks so that whatever is wrong can heal naturally. A pretty frustrating suggestion given that she already und
erwent a 2 week confinement which we can’t tag on to this sentence as she’s been running round like a loony-tunes in the mean-time. When asked what we should do if 6 weeks confinement doesn’t work, our ever-helpful vet suggested taking her to a university hospital for a bone scan (kind of like a CAT scan but for dogs, not that a cat scan is for cats but you know what I mean) to see what’s happening inside the bones. “Perhaps it’s cancer” he cheerily suggested. I think I’d rather not know to be honest but we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Keep your due claws crossed we don’t.Next up, Kate. She had 90 minutes of work done on teeth that have already had their canals thoroughly rooted and I got to witness it first hand as she is too scared to be left alone with the big fisted dentist. I took a book to read but I barely read a word of it as it was all pretty fascinating stuff. Kate was fairly oblivious to the whole affair as she was drugged up on a prescription relaxant called Zanax which must have a decent street value. Whilst her body was inactive, her mind was clearly in overdrive as it was still formulating cunning anti-dentist plans such as inducing a hiccup attack half-way through the procedure. Genius. The success of the procedure can only be measured in time but at the time of writing we are four days without migraine…a weekend of heavy drinking will give it a real test-drive though.
Whilst I’m not going to walk you through every morsel we have devoured in the last four days, two meals are worth special mention for very different reasons. Our dinner at Zea Rotisserie was memorable because I had a well deserved sl
ab of St Louis ribs (easily my favourite cut) and, possibly for the first time in my life, it beat me. In fact, I only had half of the juicy pork on offer but the plate contained a whopping 12 ribs which individually resembled a small steak and the entire dish could have easily fed a Mormon family. Well worth a visit if you happen to find yourself in one of the local budget hotels which, for your own safety, I hope you never do. The other meal was at August, John Besh’s flagship restaurant but more of that later.Wednesday signified Kate’s long awaited return to volunteering after a two business day absence. Her unannounced lack of attendance without any sign of remorse or apology proved that she has taken on the
role of labourer with a level of authenticity that makes you tip your hat with respect. She can even do that “it’s gonna cost ya” noise by sucking through her teeth. There’s little to report of significance or interest about our building site exploits although in the week and a half we have been here, the apartments we have worked on have gone from asbestos caked shells to something that you could probably live in. And that is despite having to stop working and take cover for 30 minutes after a round of gunshots were heard in the street which, apparently, is a fairly common occurrence in this hardy neighbourhood. The “Thou Shalt Not Kill” street signs are a bit of a warning to people who visit which is worrying given that the Mardi Gras parades will pass very close to here over the weekend. Presumably they speed up at this point, much like the Marathon in the Commonwealth Games when it passed through the seedier suburbs of Manchester. At the moment the shots rang out I had a huge, loaded nail gun in my hand and a full tool belt containing various blunt and sharp weapons which I’m thinking of making my Mardi Gras costume as it’s the perfect combination of both quirky and practical.On to the other noteworthy meal of the previous four days…and cue the involuntary mouthwatering induced solely through thinking and writing about food. I wonder if my exit from this mortal world will be through saliva induced lap-top electrocution? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Local boy John Besh is
a bit of a legend around these here parts and no visit to the Big Easy (coincidentally Kate’s nickname at High School) would be complete without sampling his fair at one of his four restaurants. His flagship is based in the heart of the French Quarter and was our chosen destination, assuming we could navigate past the Muses parade crowd in time. Whatever romantic notions you have of the French Quarter’s history and architecture, bin them. The place is New Orleans Cheesy Party Central where you are fairly likely to be pissed or puked on so be prepared or don’t come. Still, there’s going to be a lot of parade chat over the next few days so I’ll keep this one to a minimum.First thing to say about the restaurant is that it’s seriously old school with dark wood paneled walls and waiters in classic French black and white formal wear which, for me, just strays the wrong side of the casual / fine dining border but, thanks to the passing parade and it’s attached revelers, it was fairly noisy on the night we visited which we were thankful for as eating surrounded by hushed whispers isn’t physically possible for me. On to the food. The menu is inspired by local, seasonal produce and hence it regularly changes. It is also relatively small with only 3 or 4 choices per genre (meat, fish, appetizers etc) but on the night we visited, pretty much everything sounded exquisite. In addition to the a la carte menu, they do a five course tasting menu and an undisclosed 13 course degustion menu for which you must allow a minimum of three hours. Kate kindly agreed to join me for the five course tasting menu with wine pairing as she could see the longing in my eyes and as much as I would have loved to do the 13 course extravaganza, the truth is that it would probably contain too many entrail and offal based dishes that Kate wouldn’t enjoy. The idea of the night is supposed to be enjoyment for both of us, not just ecstasy for one and an episode of Fear Factor for the other.
Despite ordering five courses, nothing gets the juices flowing like an extra free course. Bring on the amuse bouche of Seafood Custard topped with Truffle Infused Sabayon and Louisiana Caviar served in a hollowed out egg shell complete with a tiny toast “soldier” which is a play on the famous Thomas Keller dish. Let’s lay down the rules for the rest of this review; unless I say otherwise it was either awesome or incredible. This was no exception with a really subtle hint of truffle that still allowed the delicate seafood taste to come through in the custard. Yum. 
First course proper was a warm salad of Pieds De Veau (calves feet), veal sweetbreads, hearts of palm and black truffle. Whilst it was a bit decadent to have truffle twice in the first two courses (although drowning in truffle is probably just as cool a way to go as lap-top saliva electrocution), again it was super-subtle and paired beautifully with the rich calves feet and sweetbread pieces…and the cheeky glass of bubbly it came with.
Next up was a Yard Egg Ravioli with Brown Butter and Sage which was a great dish where just a slight contact with the ravioli resulted in a tidal wave of yolk that sat amid the herbed brown butter and just begged to be mopped up with the warm table bread. Probably not a dish recommended by your cardiologist though.
My favourite dish of the night came out next which was Lacquered Berkshire Pork Belly with Louisiana Crawfish, Olives and Blood Orange. Four bite-sized slivers of sweet, carmelized piggy goodness topped with pieces of lobster-like crawfish and tiny slivers of olive which did the job of cutting through the fat and probably rendered the blood orange unnecessary but it was just spectacular.
The final savoury dish was Slow Braised Kobe Beef Short Rib, Rapini, Baby Root Veg and Leeks. What can’t be good about this? The sauce was the only thing that could possibly bugger this up but it was impossibly light and did what a sauce should do; compliment, not overpower.
Dessert was a Napoleon of Nougatine with Valhrona Chocolate Bavarois, Salted Toffee Ice Cream and Coffee Sauce. In isolation, the ice cream was intensely salty but when tasted with everything else it just brought out the chocolatiness of the chocolate and provided the perfect finale to an outstanding meal.Friday represented our final day at the volunteer place and also coincided with Gene’s last day, an incredibly eccentric older gentleman who clearly had Torrette’s but was from an era when people with Torrette’s were simply dismissed as nuts and forced to volunteer for church organizations. Whilst he gave a roller coaster ride of a leaving speech drifting almost seamlessly and paradoxically between inviting the younger boys to stay with him and warning of the dangers of m
eeting people on the internet, we brought a Bavarian Cream filled King Cake to win over the stomachs of our 30 fellow volunteers. I wouldn’t say it was sad to finish our stint here because, being frank, a few of the people are arseholes. Unfortunately this is a recurring problem with volunteer organizations, it draws in a weird mixture of people who genuinely want to help and society’s outcasts that aren’t fit for normal employment. I will, however, miss the work and I learned a fair amount about home improvements that will probably lead to a future obsession. I’ll also miss having that Friday feeling…at least for the rest of this trip.To kick start our parade season, we fled from New Orleans to Mandeville on the other side of Lake Pontchartrain via a 27 mile bridge that doesn’t contain a single twist or turn and requires a surprising amount of concentration to drive across. After some Mexican sustenance (pork fajitas…obviously), we hit the streets to soak up the atmosphere of Orpheus, which I assume is Mandeville’s biggest event of the year. Each of the marching bands are from local high schools w
hich clearly vary in both size and quality and are flanked by dance troupes who contain a mix of skilled dancers and people for whom wearing a leotard should be illegal. The guys throwing goodies from the floats were extremely generous, especially to the female members of the crowd but none more than the leader of the Phantom of The Opera float who managed throw goods in a manner that was somehow loaded with sexual intent. Many people have warned us to be careful at the parades, especially in regards to the threat of muggings but no one warned us of the physical threat from the floats themselves as Kate took a Frisbee to the head in a genius tag team move from two guys on a float (one to distract her with shiny beads, the other to take aim with the discus). For the rest of the night she was totally conflicted as she would scream for beads and then scream in fear as they flew towards her head.Fours days of parades and drinking await us. Magnifico.
1 comment:
Would it interest you to know that while you were having this meal I was heating up a Celeste pizza for one in the microwave? Dick.
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