suck the heads

Inhaling a feast at Maurepas Foods

2012-02-14T17:44:00.002-06:00

Last week, I invited my friend Dani to have lunch with John and I at the recently-opened Maurepas Foods in the Bywater. Now, when I invite Dani, I am also inviting her 2-year-old daughter Posie and seeing as how everything must revolve around nap time and the kid's ever-variant mood swings, we didn't exactly make it for lunch. That being said, when we finally wandered into the restaurant it was almost 4PM and I was starving. We could tell that even Posie was hungry, seeing as she waited patiently for something to munch on. Needless to say, we went a little crazy and ordered a lot of food.

A cheese plate came out first with a hard Vermont cheddar, creamy morbier and thick Landaff served with sugared pecans and sliced ciabatta. There was a kind of chutney on the plate, but after Posie stuck her whole hand in it, I kind of lost interest. At the same time, we also shared a plate of house made pickled root vegetables like carrots, turnips, ginger and even "Romanesco" broccoli (similar to cauliflower) and lima beans.

Maybe we went a teensy-bit overboard on the apps, because I also ordered their Sweet Potato Croquettes and Brussels sprouts. The Croquettes were just wonderful -- crunchy and crisp on the outside, sweet and creamy on the inside -- and served with a smear of a salted plum jam. There were unmistakable accents of Indian cuisine like coriander, fenugreek and cumin, which turned out to be sort of a theme for several of the dishes. The other plate of Brussels sprouts were browned with thick bacon and tossed in a "winter vegetable puree." I chose the sprouts because I thought Posie would dig them (and she did), but the rest of us weren't complaining either.

Believe it or not, we also got entrees and had no difficulty polishing all of them off. Dani got the Fish & Chips "Moira" (Wendy Darling?) with crispy Lyonaise potatoes and malt vinaigrette. I am uncertain what kind of fish it was (being distracted by my own plate), but the taste I had was delightful and Dani could not stop raving about a curry sauce that came with it that brought to mind her favorite Indian dish, Butter Chicken. I think she showed admirable restraint by not swabbing up all of the heady sauce with her fingers.

John ordered the Pork & Bacon Terrine that was served with thin slices of pickled pears, honey and mizuna or Japanese mustard. Yep, I had to look that one up. Though I did enjoy a large bite of his luscious terrine, I was really hypnotized by my own dish, the P&J Oyster Stew. Served in an oven-hot crock and topped by buttery pastry, I was a bit unnerved when I first broke through the crust. A blood-red broth oozed onto the pastry and the steam released a scent of yet more Indian seasoning. My spoon dove straight to the bottom of the hot stew only to discover humongous, plump, juicy oysters and lots of minutely-diced beets. I slurped down every last drop and scraped down the pastry from the edge of the crock until anymore foraging would have looked helplessly desperate. I would so order this dish again...in a heartbeat.

Keeping with the gluttonous theme of the entire afternoon, we ordered two desserts to share with no regrets. My favorite was the Roasted Pumpkin Ice Cream Sundae with candied pecans and hot fudge, but I think Dani definitely preferred the fluffy King Cake/cream puff overflowing with a goat cheese filling and topped with a chocolate ganache and bright gold & green sugar crystals.

After that gorging session, it was time for my nap...

House of the week: Horrendous tile!

2012-02-10T12:36:00.000-06:00

As I was looking through house listings today for my weekly post, I couldn't help but come across a common feature in a lot of "remodeled" homes. Abhorrent tile!

Now don't get the wrong idea, I think tile is a perfectly serviceable flooring in kitchens, bathrooms and even the odd mudroom, but seriously people...does it belong in your living room? Or worse yet...your bedroom? I realize it is a cheaper alternative for the ruinous renovators who are, in my opinion, out to destroy any semblance of original architecture and style to save a damn dime, but it simply breaks my heart to see it.

For example, I found a fairly cute, two-story double Craftsman house on St. Mary in the Lower Garden District. It's in a great location, around the corner from Juan's Flying Burrito (not to mention a ton of cute shops on Magazine Street) and just a couple of doors down from The Saint, one of the finest dive bars in the city. There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms per side, a total of 3000 square feet and it is listed for $299,000.

But look at what was done to the beautiful hardwood floors (because I just know this house had them)! Every inch of floor space has been covered with a ghastly, godawful, cheap, ugly tile! WHY!?!?! I guess there is just no accounting for other people's tastes...or lack thereof.

It left a bad taste...

2012-02-08T14:13:00.000-06:00

Discovering something crunchy in a creamy soup, finding a long, black hair baked into pasta or sliding your teeth through a thick chunk of gristle...we've all experienced mishaps that will put us off a meal. It's a horrible sensation that destroys your appetite and try as you might, it's almost impossible to continue. Most of the time these experiences are purely accidental, but sometimes they can be creativity gone awry. I think the latter is what happened to John and I when we visited Origami last week, the new sushi restaurant on Freret Street.

We probably should have been forewarned that something would be amiss with our entire outing, considering the obnoxiously-bad cabby driver who sped at a frightening pace through the busy, after-school streets and the noisy road construction on the corner of Dufossat and Freret right outside of the restaurant.

But once inside, things improved considerably. The dining room was modern and elegant with white flower-like chandeliers and concrete floors and luckily, the walls seemed to insulate us from most of the construction noise. We were seated at a large, private booth where we looked over the hefty menus and decided what to eat. After some green tea and a couple of warm, wet towels, we made our selections, anxious to inhale some excellent rolls.

One thing I should make perfectly clear, John and I love sushi, especially the crazy thick "special" uramaki that many Japanese restaurants offer to please the American palate. It is rare when a month goes by without us placing an order at Ninja Restaurant around the corner for four or five fat, delicious rolls sporting ingredients like avocado, eel, tempura shrimp, deep fried soft shell crab and let's not forget the hallowed "crunchies" sprinkled through a spicy crab-mayonnaise mixture. John loves sushi so much that I can easily woo him into buying it so that I won't have to make dinner that night. It's like his kryptonite.

We started lunch at Origami with some salads. My Poke Salad had bright red cubes of tuna, tons of sliced cucumber, avocado and seaweed tossed in a wonderfully spicy, chili ponzu sauce. John tried the Origami Salad which was mostly plain lettuce, a few sweet baby greens and your basic squid salad tossed together in a ponzu spicy mayo dressing. Both were tasty, but we both definitely preferred the Poke.

We ordered three rolls, but the first to arrive was our "experiment" roll. Let's face it, all sushi joints sport pretty much the same array of these kinds of super-rolls, so when we try a new spot, we like to attempt their original concoctions with varying degrees of success. In this case, it was the "Italian Roll." The menu described a mango and eel interior with layers of prosciutto (spelled "prochuto") and broiled cheese on the outside. "Broiled cheese?" I thought to myself...maybe it'll be shaved Parmesan? Knowing the castigation I would receive for ordering sushi containing any other kind of cheese besides cream, I decided to take the risk. The chef obviously liked it enough to put it on the menu, right?

In my worst nightmare, I never would have imagined that the unknown cheese would turn out to be American. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I said American cheese. Those bright orange slices are a welcome sight on a bologna sandwich, but for sushi? And I thought the roll was supposed to be Italian? Since when did plastic, processed cheese squares bring to mind the taste of Italy? Don't even get me started on what seemed to pass as prosciutto...

John was acting unusually optimistic (maybe it's cheddar?), I blame it on his hunger and blind love of rolls, but he dove in with a will and popped a piece into his mouth. Since I couldn't initially gauge his reaction, I took a piece without hearing his verdict and knew immediately it was going to be difficult to swallow. At this point, lunch was basically over.

We had also ordered our favorite Rainbow Roll and a Blackjack Roll, but after a couple of unenthusiastic attempts, we just couldn't enjoy them at all. No matter how much I rinsed my mouth with green tea or nibbles of ginger, my tongue was haunted by the flavor of the dreaded Italian.

After our server packed the other food in go-boxes, I ordered dessert in a desperate hope to salvage the meal. Sadly, the tempura-fried bananas were crunchy shells holding formless banana goo and we had no less than three different people ask us to clarify the dessert order...at least the green tea ice cream that accompanied it was nice?

Oh well, these are the events that make life interesting...right?

House of the week: Fixer-upper on N. Miro Street

2012-02-05T20:39:00.004-06:00

Have you ever seen the movie Money Pit? Tom Hanks and Shelley Long play a new couple who believe they have finally found their dream house, but it (along with their relationship) basically collapses into rubble. This is what always comes to mind whenever I see the words "fixer-upper" or "investment opportunity" in a house listing. For example, how about this Greek revival on N. Miro?

It seems like an incredible deal. A gorgeous, three-story mansion originally built in 1860 with five bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, original pine floors, marble mantles, pocket doors and transom windows for a total of 4,232 square feet of living space and a lot almost twice that size. It looks to need a lot of work, possibly some new plumbing and electric, drywall and paint, floor sanding and varnishing...but I have a vision in my mind of what it could be. Perhaps I am being optimistic, but this "investment" seems like a steal listed at $179,000. Since I am certainly no whiz at real estate investments, I wonder how much it would cost to make this place what it was and how long it would take to finish it. What do you think?

I do love to paint!

Suffice it to say...

2012-02-02T20:07:00.003-06:00

We adore Creole Creamery.

(A perfect scoop of Banana Cane Malt ice cream)

Without ice cream, there would be darkness and chaos. ~Don Kardong

A taste of the Mission at Juan's Flying Burrito

2012-02-01T14:20:00.000-06:00

When people ask me what I miss most about living in California, aside from the obvious answers like my family or the beach, my most common answer is Mission-style burritos. Often I find myself craving the huge, inexpensive burritos loaded with well-seasoned meats, rice, beans, cheese, shredded lettuce and tomatoes and served with free tortilla chips, salsa and tasty condiments like whole pickled jalapenos. A feast such as this would easily feed me for two meals and all for less than $12! While there's nothing exactly like this in New Orleans, I can get pretty darn close at Juan's Flying Burrito.

John and I have been to Juan's on many, many occasions and at both locations, but last week we headed for the original on Magazine Street. Perhaps it's the loud music blaring through the restaurant with chefs singing along while they work, the heavily tattooed servers or the eclectic decor (who doesn't love a chandelier made from Patron bottles?), but we prefer this location to the Juan's on Carrollton Avenue - even though the Mid-City restaurant is closer.

We arrived late in the lunch hour and after some dithering about where to sit (I wanted the best light for pictures), we opted for one of the larger booths in front. Dani and her 2-year-old daughter Posie were with us and we all pretty much knew what we wanted until we spotted the colorful, chalkboard specials adorning the walls and were forced to make some adjustments. Our server was prompt, helpful and before we knew it, our drinks and appetizers arrived in a flurry.

It was hard to make everyone wait while I snapped shots of one special, their house made Chorizo Queso. The aroma of the cheese and sausage together was overwhelming, so I worked fast and got the best images I could before the first chip was dipped. Everyone agreed that we had made an excellent choice after tasting the creamy, melted cheese and the warm, cinnamon-rich chorizo...even Posie! We made quick work of the queso and had to request another basket of their fresh, crisp tortilla chips in order to scrape up every last drop.

Before we finished inhaling the appetizer, our entrees arrived. Posie was feasting on her own order of creamy, fresh guacamole while Dani enjoyed their Shrimp Quesadilla with an extra helping of sour cream. John fell back on one of our favorites and their namesake dish, the Flying Burrito which features grilled steak, gulf shrimp and chicken with cheddar, jack, yellow rice, black beans. salsa and guacamole in a grilled Chipotle tortilla. I veered from the norm and chose another special, the Shrimp Hooligan burrito that touted "twice the shrimp" and I can confirm that's not a lie. Plump Gulf shrimp were rolled into a grilled spinach wrap with jack cheese, refried beans, rice, sour cream and salsa. Though it was delicious, after a glut of queso dip I was able to finish less than half of the monster burrito (John had the same problem), but I wasn't complaining, because now I didn't have to worry about what I was having for dinner...

House of the week: Creole cottage on Bourbon Street

2012-01-25T12:46:00.000-06:00

Remember last week's post, when I found the perfect, parade-friendly house? Well, this week I'm going to "kick it up a notch." Though I would love, love, love to live in the French Quarter, the last street in the city I would want to live on is Bourbon Street. I know all you visitors out there just can't seem to get enough of the blaring pop music, barkers, flashing lights, karaoke, go-cups, flashing and strip bars, but as much as I adore this wonderful city, I detest Bourbon Street in almost equal measure. I would rather live in suburbia out in Kenner then on Bourbon and if you know me, that is really saying a lot.

Keeping all of this in mind, if I had to buy a home on Bourbon Street, it would definitely be a place like this Creole cottage near the corner of St. Phillip. At the "quieter" end of the infamous street, this house was built in 1820 and (unlike a lot in the Quarter) is set back from the sidewalk and has a nice, big hedge offering a bit of privacy. It's a stunning property with all the good stuff; original wood floors and moldings, high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows and plantation shutters. Interestingly enough, the house is actually split into two separate apartments with a total of five bedrooms, five bathrooms, lush brick courtyards, breakfast nook and a rec room!

Though, as I mentioned before, the house isn't surrounded by strip bars and flashing lights, Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop is right next door. It is said to be the oldest continually occupied bar (since 1772) in the United States and possibly one of the hideouts of famed pirate Jean Lafitte, the scallywag that helped General Andrew Jackson defend New Orleans against the British in 1815. Who knows? Maybe he hung out next door, too? Perhaps there's a hidden stash of Spanish galleons in some secret, underground cavern? I'd certainly need a great cache of gold to buy this beauty listed at $1,600,000.00.

Fried feast at Charlie's Seafood

2012-01-23T13:08:00.000-06:00

In the Greater New Orleans Area, you will never suffer from a lack of choices when it comes to places serving fried seafood. Don't get me wrong, I am certainly not complaining, but with the multitudes of restaurants to choose from, sometimes it can be difficult to discover true quality among the masses. It seems that my search has ended...

Out on Jefferson Hwy in Harahan, just past the Colonial Golf Course, lies Charlie's Seafood. I remember the first time I saw the place years ago and read the sign (Charles Sea Foods), I laughed and thought, "I'll bet the seafood there is off the hook!" I just love it when I'm right.

On Saturday, John, my friend Dani, her daughter Posie and I all went to Charlie's for lunch, hungry and anxious for some good, fried grub. We sat ourselves and before we had settled, a waitress rushed over with menus ready to take our drink order. Even though it was late in the lunch hour and the place was packed, we received attentive service and before we knew it, our dishes came pouring out of the kitchen.

Though no one else ordered an appetizer, I couldn't help getting a cup of their Corn & Crab Soup. It was wonderfully creamy with tons of sweet crab and I passed it around the table so everyone could try a spoonful or two. John actually stole more than two bites and practically licked the bowl clean. Next time I will have to get him one of his own!

For our entrees, John, Dani and Posie all ordered fried catfish, but I had been craving shrimp. You should have seen the look of shock on every one's face (including mine) when we saw the size of my shrimp! They were huge, fresh, plump Louisiana shrimp dipped in a spicy cornmeal batter and fried to crispy perfection. I didn't want to share, but I did, if only to snag a couple of pieces of their equally delicious catfish. Our platters were served with a huge pile of French fries, toasted and buttered French bread, house made tartar sauce and coleslaw. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed their coleslaw that was not too sweet and included the tasty addition of golden raisins.

None of us could finish our lunch and while we waited for to-go boxes, I ordered a slice of pecan pie for all of us to share. The warm, made-in-house pecan pie came out served in a pool of caramel sauce that has us all moaning with pleasure as we devoured every last bite. It seems you can never be too full for a decadent dessert!

Oodles of food

2012-01-18T02:09:00.002-06:00

Since I went out to several places last week, all of which were equally delicious, I think it might be best if I just do a quick run-down. You see, none of these places were what I intended to be my usual, weekly pig out, but I figured I'd eaten out enough for one week and decided to offer this mini food medley.

First, I had lunch on Wednesday with my first New Orleans employer and friend Jay at Trū Burger. I scarfed down "The Charlie" burger with bacon, Swiss cheese, house made coleslaw on a butter toasted bun and we shared some onion rings, their latest side!

On Thursday, I was invited to have lunch with Lorin at the brand new Superior Seafood & Oyster Bar on the long-neglected corner of Napoleon and St. Charles. I realize it's a seafood joint, and their BBQ Shrimp did rock, but what I can't stop thinking about was the Beef Carpaccio with pickled okra, thick shavings of Parmesan and horseradish mayo...I could have eaten the whole plate.

Finally, on Friday I went and had won ton soup and fried egg rolls with my good friend Anne at Pho Tau Bay. It had been a while since I'd seen Anne (or the soup!) and we had such a fabulous time...

...that we stopped off at the Hong Kong Food Market on Behrman Highway and got a ton of sweets like steamed cheesecake, butter buns and even Cream Collon.

Believe me, they taste a hell of a lot better than they sound.

House of the week: Victorian on Constance Street

2012-01-15T16:42:00.000-06:00

As of Twelfth Night (January 6th), carnival season has begun and I find myself longing to live closer to the parade route. I dream of having festive parties at a house where guests can easily walk out to St. Charles and enjoy the krewes rolling by and return to a comfortable place where they can not only use the restroom (an invaluable commodity during Mardi Gras), but can kick back and unload their heavy cache of beads before heading back out for the next parade.

With those specifications in mind, I think I may have found the perfect house! Over on Constance Street in the Irish Channel is a Victorian double (converted into a single) that is only one block from Magazine and only six blocks from St. Charles. It is a stunning renovation that kept all the qualities I desire in a New Orleans home including the original hardwood floors, pocket doors, exposed brick walls, ceiling medallions and transoms. It also has a gorgeous kitchen with black & white tiled floors, built-in bookcases, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a cute little courtyard out back. If only I could afford this beauty which is listed for $310,999.00. At least it doesn't cost me anything to dream...

Chewing the fat at Uncle Hank's Table: Bayona

2012-01-11T16:32:00.003-06:00

When going out to eat in New Orleans, there is one topic that never fails to come up, as a matter of fact, it usually dominates the conversation. That topic is food. Yes, while forking a decadent dinner into our maws, we'll be gabbing about another meal we are planning to eat in the future or raving about what we ate for breakfast that morning. Now John endures my endless chatter about food all of the time, but last Friday at Bayona, we met a sweet couple from Monroe who might as well have been sitting at the same table.

Thanks to our reservations, we were seated straight away and it was John who noticed the little plaque on the window sill stating that we were sitting at "Uncle Hank's Table." As we discovered it, an older gentleman at the next table said "Yeah, and did you know they say he's never used it?" Laughing, we struck up a conversation about food, restaurants and cooking that lasted almost the whole meal! Well, except while we were eating, then it got real quiet...

While selecting our appetizers, I took a huge leap of faith and ordered Pan-Fried Sweetbreads. If you recall, the first time I ate sweetbreads, I was pretty nervous and though I said I would eat it again, I have never ordered it since, even though I have had plenty of opportunities to do so. But as I perused the menu, I heard the waiter talking about the dish, saying it was an immensely popular, signature Susan Spicer recipe and I just couldn't resist. The crispy, pan-sauteed sweetbreads with tiny cubes of potato and juicy mushrooms were drizzled in a sherry-mustard butter sauce and topped by even smaller cubes of beet. As it turns out, the sweetbreads were likely the highlight of our entire lunch!

John greedily eyed my dish while trying to appreciate his own, a Grilled Kobe Beef Brisket. The moist and tender, hoisin-soy glazed beef was sliced and served with peanut noodle salad and a few sauteed veggies. Though I appreciate the attempt, the dish tasted kind of amateur, like the person who cooked it had never prepared Asian cuisine before. C'est la vie! The dish was by no means terrible, just kind of sloppy for an environment like Bayona.

Waiting for our entrees, we eyed our neighbor's plates that had just arrived and one of them looked so good, I almost changed my order. It was a mixed grill with half a stuffed quail, andouille sausage and crusted lamb loin. It made me drool a bit and I covered by taking a big swig of my ginger beer before anyone noticed. At least our entrees arrived in good time to distract me.

I chose Fried Eggs with Pheasant Rillette Cakes that came with smothered collard greens and black-eyed peas. There were also thick, crispy, smoky hunks of pheasant sprinkled on top that were so good, it was like pheasant-bacon. What can I say? It was wonderful and I had no difficulty gobbling it all down. John enjoyed a few well-composed bites smeared into the gooey yolk and declared it good, but he thought it was a bit salty. Though, I didn't see that stopping him when I offered another bite. John opted for the Grilled Wild Salmon with a sundried tomato orzo, wilted escarole and sweet pea sauce. The perfectly-cooked salmon tasted bright and fresh, emphasized by the green taste of the pea sauce and this dish, too, quickly disappeared.

At last it was time for dessert and instead of waving the thought away, John quickly agreed with my choice of the Chocolate Caramel Hazelnut Tart with Earl Gray ice cream and fresh strawberries. I felt like a stuffed hobbit, "filling in the corners" while we slowly dug into our decadent dessert that was thick with rich chocolate and caramel and all I could think about was "Where am I going to eat next?"

Pho at Boucherie?

2012-01-05T18:30:00.002-06:00

We're barely into 2012 and I am already lagging on posts, but I promise I won't make it a habit! I don't usually make resolutions as it only provides me the opportunity to break them, but I intend on making a sincere effort to post more this year. That being said...

For the past several weeks, I've nursed a serious yen for some pho, but since I simply can't condone a a $30 cab ride for a $8 bowl of soup from Pho Tau Bay (as fabulous as it might be), I've shoved my cravings into a corner. Last week, in an effort to save money, stay closer to home and still have a fantastic meal, John and I decided to walk over to Boucherie and have lunch. Though the pho itch was still floating in the back of my mind, it was the last thing I expected to see on the menu in the cute, lilac house on Jeannette Street.

It may come as a shock, but I actually made reservations this time and I must admit, it felt incredibly good when the waitress pushed past the crowd of snooty patrons at the door (this one woman wouldn't even deign to look at me after I held the door open for her) and ask "Are you Miss Kim? Your table is right this way..." That pretentious lady looked at me then, oh yes indeed.

We sat down and were looking over the menu noticing all the little changes when lo and behold, I spotted pho as a "small plate" and I had no choice but to give it a try. We placed our order and watched while the pompous woman ogled our spot with obvious jealousy and irritation...much to our pleasure.

To start, John chose the Grilled Romaine Caesar Salad that came topped with thick shavings of Parmesan and bright green, basil croutons. It's been on the menu at Boucherie for a while and I had tasted it before, simple and delicious. My dish was, of course, the Pho with Smoked Lap Chong (dried pork sausage) meatballs and rice noodles. Along with the bowl of steaming soup, they served a plate with fresh basil, mint, sliced jalapeno, bean sprouts and a couple of squirts of what was unmistakably Sriracha and hoisin. While I loved the presentation, the ever-present aromatics like cinnamon and star anise, and what I am sure was a very trying recipe (making the broth for pho is more than arduous), the flavor fell a bit short of what I was hoping for, lacking the many-layered, meaty depth that is so often found in a typical Vietnamese pho. I certainly applaud the chef on his effort.

The dining room was packed, with more people waiting at the door, but our dishes kept coming out in a very timely fashion. Before we knew it, our server was swooping in to pick up our empty plates and bringing us new ones. For his entree, John selected the Pulled Pork Cake with Potato Confit and topped off with a bright, Purple Cabbage Cole Slaw. Like any of the "BBQ" items at Boucherie, this was wonderfully juicy pile of smoky pulled pork that practically melted in your mouth with each bite. Strangely enough, I chose something similar, the Cuban Sandwich. Thick, saucy hunks of roasted pork dressed with red wine mustard, pickled roasted poblano peppers, ancho aioli and house made, fresh mozzarella were pressed between two, cripsy slices of buttered and toasted bread. The cheese was slowly oozing out of the sides and as one man passed by my table, he pointed and said "I'm getting that next time!"

At last, it was time for dessert and since John had never tasted it before, we chose the Thai Chili Chocolate Chess Pie. I guess our server was getting a bit frazzled by the crowds though, because what came to our table was their Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding. Laughing, I informed her of the mistake and she said, "No worries, I'll bring you a slice of that too..." Needless to say, we ate the bread pudding, which is sinfully decadent, moist and lighter in texture than you'd imagine, and then took the chocolate pie home. Later that night we devoured that chocolaty, spicy sweetness resting in a buttery, flaky crust and it was just as fabulous as we thought it would be.

Do you remember...

2012-01-02T15:27:00.002-06:00

...this house?

It was the mystery on my street with Katrina-born messages scrawled on the wobbly, leaning fence and so overgrown with flora you could barely see the house.

Last week as John and I set out on foot to our next dining destination, I stopped in my tracks and literally goggled. For weeks they had been clearing away plants from behind the crooked fence, but at last the final barrier had been removed.

I am ecstatic that "they" - whomever they are - have seen their way through to improving this property and I am anxious and excited for what may come of this great, old house. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high because they may just demolish it and start over, but I have seen men working on it, getting rid of ruined flooring and general debris.

On the other hand, it's kind of sad-looking. All naked and exposed, shivering on the corner with nothing left to hide behind, its mystery somehow defiled by stripping away its wild facade.

Here's to the raw, new beginning in 2012...

House of the week: Victorian Camelback on Mazant

2011-12-30T11:07:00.001-06:00

It's that time of the week again where I torture myself, my boyfriend, my friends, family and yes...even my dog...with yet another house I will never be able to afford. The irons are hot, the pincers are rusty and my checking account balance is stapled to my forehead. Let the pain begin!

The house I found this week is in an up-and-coming neighborhood called the Bywater that lies just below the Marigny between Franklin Avenue and the canal. One of the many cabbies we've traveled with told us that "they" plan to relocate the port to the Army Reserve base near the end of Poland Avenue. Regardless of the truth, the Bywater is growing and already contains some killer local spots like The Joint BBQ, Jack Dempsey's, Bacchanal Wine Shop, Elizabeth's and last on my list, but certainly not least, Vaughan's.

The house, ah the house, is a 1900s Camel-back Victorian double that has been remodeled into a single, 3 bedroom - 3bath beauty. My usual list requirements are all accounted for; high ceilings, hardwood floors, pocket doors between the living and dining room and exposed-brick fireplaces. But, the bonus features include a whirlpool bath in the master bedroom, a stunning kitchen replete with a breakfast nook and a gorgeous courtyard with a huge, shaded deck.

I think the price is really not all that bad (regardless of whether or not I can afford it) at $359,000.

"He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot."
-Douglas Adams

A Coquette-ish Christmas

2011-12-27T16:53:00.002-06:00

So it wasn't actually Christmas, it was the eve before Christmas Eve...er...actually...it was the afternoon before Christmas Eve. It was the 23rd of December, okay? Anyhow, John and I decided we were way past due for a visit to the fairly-new restaurant, Coquette, on the corner of Washington and Magazine.

It was just like me not to make reservations, but though the corner restaurant was packed (people were even dining at the bar), it didn't take more than 15-20 minutes before we scored a table. We ordered quickly after perusing the menu during our wait, and it wasn't long before our food came flooding out of the kitchen.

First and foremost, I have to talk about the bread. Anytime you go out to dinner, quite often a basket of bread will be brought to the table and though filling, it isn't always something you remember fondly about the meal. At Coquette, they serve a warm loaf of their own, house-made ciabatta that is so tasty, it will literally knock your socks off. This divine loaf is sliced and served with a sea-salt enhanced, creamy butter that John and I gobbled without reservation or concern about having enough room left over to eat what we had actually ordered.

Our appetizers arrived in soon thereafter. John chose the Market Vegetable Salad that was supposed to have included a cashew puree and navel oranges, but they served him the salad from the prix fixe lunch menu which was local greens, candied pecans, goat cheese and Dijon vinaigrette. We didn't actually realize their mistake until John had already scarfed down more than half of the salad. We chalked it up to a happy accident since John really enjoyed what he got anyhow.

I selected the Tempura Shrimp with a garnish of sambal (chili sauce), grapefruit, nicoise olives and cilantro. The large pieces of shrimp were fried perfectly with a crispy, tasty batter. Both of us commented on the odd combination of grapefruit slices and pitted olives, but I thought it was a nice shock of contrasting flavors.

For his entree, John picked the Steak Frites, sliced pieces of rare hangar steak piled high with French fries and drizzled with a shallot vinaigrette (for the steak) and malt aioli (for the fries). His dish was so tasty that I continuously poked my fork into his plate stealing flavor-drenched fries and, on occasion, a nice hunk of steak. But, in all fairness, John was doing the same thing to me.

I ordered the Cochon de Lait, which is slow-roasted suckling pig that has been injected with Cajun seasonings and butter. The dish I had was also served with sauteed Brussels sprouts, pureed sweet potato and topped with apple marmalade. Though the meat was a tad dry, the whole dish sang when each bite was carefully composed of everything on the plate and I devoured it in no time.

Finally, we had what was likely one of the most unusual desserts I have ever eaten, Butterscotch Pudding with broken snicker doodles, bourbon and bacon ice cream. I am a huge sucker for anything Butterscotch, so it was not difficult to make my choice, but I have to admit that the bacon ice cream really struck me as being particularly delicious. Rich with a smoky flavor, it is an ice cream that, though delicious, I would not be able to eat in large quantities. Only one thing would deter me from ordering it again and that was the foam garnish on top. Maybe I will never be one to appreciate the latest fads in haute cuisine, but I will never understand foam. It recalls to mind the wickedness of my youth when salting snails in my backyard could keep me entertained for hours on end. C'est la vie!

Where? 3001 Tulane Avenue...Pizzicare

2011-12-20T20:03:00.000-06:00

The Metry-Lady driving the cab screwed up her face and said "Where?" forcing me to tell her, for the second time, that we wanted to go to 3001 Tulane Avenue. She shook her head and turned back towards the steering wheel.

"It's a pizza joint on Tulane Avenue?"

"Yep."

"Do they have good pizza?"

"We've heard good things, but this will be our first time."

"Pizza Care?"
"Pizza-car-ay"
"Okay, whatever you say!"

John and I arrived late in the lunch hour to the brand new, black & white tiled, very clean and even shiny Pizzicare. Only two other customers were dining in that day. We browsed the menu for extras, even though we knew exactly what we wanted due to a delicious-sounding Twitter post touting the Charcuterie Pie.

We started with some Garlic Knots and a Pizzicare Salad made with baby spinach, pancetta, red onion, mushrooms and artichokes with blue cheese dressing. We really enjoyed the dough, nice and crusty, but the knots seemed decidedly un-garlicky and mostly Parmesan. I was disappointed with the salad mainly because instead of offering me some thick, house-made blue cheese dressing (that you can get in almost ANY other restaurant in New Orleans), I was handed a packet of Paul Newman's. Plus, there was no pancetta to be found, but there was a hefty addition of grated mozzarella.

Though we were both feeling a bit full by this time, we had no difficulty digging into the Charcuterie Pie with Genoa salami, pancetta, sopressata, fresh arugula, fresh mozzarella and garlic oil. It was simply delicious and I made sure to include some of the peppery, bright arugula in every bite...which is no easy feat, let me tell you. By the time we left, there were only two slices left and half a salad. I guess you know now what I had for dinner!

House of the week: Creole cottage on Dauphine Street

2011-12-15T19:05:00.001-06:00

Living in the French Quarter was a dream I had when I first headed down to New Orleans. The historic aspect of this town was a huge attraction to me after all and the Vieux Carre IS history. You won't find an older neighborhood anywhere else in the United States. There are a ton of homes with iron-wrought wrapped balconies and gorgeous gingerbread-like trim, but there are also a few places that look like they just might collapse in the next big tropical storm.

I'm about to show you how deceiving those tumble-down facades actually are...

For example, check out this particular abode on Dauphine Street. It's an ancient-looking Creole cottage that was built way back in 1911. The shutters are old with rusty iron hinges, keeping the interior hidden from the general public walking by. The plaster looks worn, beaten by a century of adverse weather, disrespectful tourists and even a civil war. Now take a look inside. You tell me, is this house worth $675,000? It's like Mama always said, "You can never judge a book by its cover!"

When atmosphere trumps food: Ralph's on the Park

2011-12-13T18:41:00.001-06:00

It was one of those "wild hair" moments when John and I woke up Sunday morning hungry and decided to go have brunch at Ralph's on the Park. I'd frequently visited their website and driven past the restaurant, admired it's gorgeous location and fantasized about a romantic springtime lunch on the balcony overlooking the moss-laden oaks and calm lagoons of City Park.

With the temperatures hovering somewhere around the low 50's this past weekend, an alfresco meal was quite out of the question, but as we realized when we walked into the warm dining room, the inside was just as beautiful. We were led to a window-side table across gleaming hardwood floors and through iron-wrapped columns and as we sat down, we couldn't help but admire the gorgeous, Degas-like murals adorning the back wall.

Excited and hungry, we placed our order, even choosing the special of the day as side and (strangely enough) it was the first dish to arrive. Though the idea of Goat Cheese and Herbs de Provence biscuits sounded delightful, the result was kind of dry and cold. We gobbled them because we were hungry, but we loaded it up with almost all of the butter provided. Let me tell you, that was a lot of butter...

Before we finished, our appetizer came out, Blue Crab Beignets with a pepper jelly cream sauce. In my mind's eye I saw large, fluffy beignets filled with the savory-sweet flavor of crab, so I felt a bit bemused at the result. They were basically small, crab cake-like balls that were deep fried and (sadly) quite greasy sitting in a small pool of the pepper jelly cream. We ended up eating them, though because the wait time between our appetizer and entree was inordinately long and, like I said, we were still quite ravenous.

The entrees finally arrived and we set our forks to dig in. I ordered the Tasso Eggs Benedict with fried P&J oysters, house-made tasso and jalapeno hollandaise atop buttermilk biscuits. The eggs were poached perfectly and the sauce and yolk softened the biscuit, but unfortunately the oysters were over-fried making them extra-tough and chewy. John chose their Louisiana Seafood Crepes with crab meat, shrimp and fish lying in a pool of smoked tomato sauce and garnished with fried shrimp curls. Both John and I only ate one bite before we declared the bland dish essentially inedible. We even opened up one up only to find a pile of mush with no discernible shrimp or fish, that is unless it had been thrown in a blender and pureed before slopping it into the delicate crepes.

John had pretty much lost his appetite and sent the dish back with no interest in ordering something to replace it. Striving to be optimistic, I ordered dessert - the Egg Nog Crème Brûlée with chocolate rum candy. Also, our server felt bad about John's entree and gave us a free Banana Pudding. I was pleased with the crème brûlée as it had a perfectly crisp, burnt sugar top and a creamy custard beneath and the Banana Pudding was pretty good too until we tried the garnish of brûléed banana that tasted very green.

Oh well, what can I say. At least it was pretty?

Tunnel vision...

2011-12-09T14:18:00.001-06:00

I realize that there are lots of wonderful pastries, cookies, treats and even gelato at Angelo Brocato's, but if there are Napoleons in the pastry case staring out at me, I can't see anything else...

Hissy fit at Crabby Jacks

2011-12-05T20:04:00.001-06:00

Though I don't regret the evening of debauchery at the Hookah Bar, I did miss out on the Po-Boy Fest which left me with a hankering...and not for a hunk 'o' cheese. Well, maybe a couple of slices of Swiss on a fried oyster and bacon?

Yeah, I wanted a po-boy.

So without further ado, John, my friend Dani and her daughter Posie all hopped into her bright orange, taxi-turned-personal-van and sped off down to Crabby Jacks. I'd heard they served a awesome Cochon de Lait po-boy, among some other tasty specials, and it was high time I found out for myself.

We all tromped into the small restaurant on Jefferson Highway around 2:30 pm in an attempt to miss the busy lunch hour. Posie was quite interested in the bright gumball machines in the front, especially after she scored a couple of stragglers in one of the chutes, though we were too busy selecting our lunch from the menu to notice 'till it was too late. We placed our order and found a place to sit at one of the communal benches, admiring the the work of local artist Dr. Bob that was plastered all over the walls.

It wasn't long before our orders arrived in a flurry, long packages wrapped in butcher paper dealt to the right person as soon as we deciphered the spidery scrawl in red ink on the outside. Dani's 8-inch, fully-dressed, fried shrimp po-boy was the most visually stunning of the three. Large, crispy, cornmeal-crusted shrimp tumbled out of the overstuffed loaf allowing me to snatch a few. John's large BBQ brisket po-boy was quite juicy and the brisket melted in your mouth, but the sauce was a bit sweet for my taste and I turned to my own.

I wanted to get the Cochon de Lait po-boy, but they had ran out by the time we arrived. Apparently coming later in the day not only helps you miss the crowds, you also miss the preferred specials. I turned instead to my second choice, the slow roasted duck. Though I ate it and enjoyed the moist texture of the duck and the chewy French bread, I thought the gravy was fairly bland. Next time, I am getting there early...

We also got some fries, onion rings and a side of mac & cheese for Posie. We didn't realize that the mac was made with jalapenos and though Dani doesn't like them and picked a lot of them out, Posie seemed to dig it when she managed to finally get some into her mouth. I got a taste and I agree. It reminded me of nachos you get at theme parks or local carnivals.

It seems that Posie liked everything too much. What with free gum, jalapeno mac & cheese AND accessible jingle bells on the Christmas tree, who would want to leave? Certainly not Posie. She even sat down on the ground in the parking lot to (not so silently) protest our departure. We'll be back, Jack!

Thanksgiving apologies...

2011-11-30T16:39:00.001-06:00

I know, I know, I know...I suck. I hit a soporific, post-Thanksgiving slump and I haven't written a damn thing, nor have I gone out to eat. After the huge carbohydrate fill I enjoyed in Ponchatoula with John's family, I just haven't felt like doing very much at all. Hibernation mode seems to have set in and I just need to suck it up, plug in the crappy little electric space heater, don my fur-lined Crocs, crack my knuckles and put my nose to the grindstone. Please accept my apologies and I hope everyone had a very, Happy Thanksgiving.

Here's some food porn to tie you over...

When crawling out your front door isn't even an option...

2011-11-21T14:36:00.001-06:00

On Saturday, I was invited to a sort of "un-birthday" party where my friends Casey and Brandon blew a $850 gift certificate at the Hookah Cafe on Decatur Street on all of their friends. While the evening started out civilized, some Grey Goose martini's, shots of Patron and vodka cranberries later degraded into an evening where we were kicked out of the All-Ways Lounge on St. Claude, though I don't even recall how we got there or when we left the Hookah. Even when we made it back to my apartment, I ended up drinking beer until I finally passed out at dawn.

When I woke at last around 4pm on Sunday, the last thing I wanted was a po-boy. I had planned on meeting up with friends and pigging out on delights like grits & veal grillades po-boys from Le Citron Bistro, Oyster Rockefeller po-boy from Palace Cafe and vanilla ice cream-filled donuts with bananas foster topping from Blue Dot, but sadly...it wasn't meant to be. I could hear the music and even smell the food from bedroom (which, at the time, was NOT a good thing). Here's looking forward to Po- Boy Preservation Fest 2012?

La Macarena Pupuseria & Latin Cafe: Way better than a 90's dance fad

2011-11-15T13:39:00.001-06:00

John and I actually went out to eat at two different restaurants this past weekend, but since the first experience was a real disappointment, I thought it would be nice to write about a good experience instead. After all, the bad ones are such downers...aren't they?

So, in an effort to stay positive, we stayed in our own 'hood and walked over to La Macarena Pupuseria & Latin Cafe on Hampson Street only a few blocks away. We got there a bit early for dinner, but we were trying to catch the light for good pictures. Though we felt a bit like old-timers catching the early bird special, we tried to be nonchalant as we seated ourselves to a table by the window in the small, brightly painted restaurant. We placed an order with our friendly server and then crossed our fingers. We both had heard great things about La Macarena, but we were also afraid of yet another not-so-great experience.

We started the adventure with a "Salvadorean" shrimp ceviche and after our first bite, we both heaved a sigh of relief. It was fantastic! The shrimp was plentiful and the perfect consistency, not too rubbery or too soft and everything tasted so fresh and bright from the finely chopped tomatoes and onions to the leafy cilantro. It was served with four toasted rounds of French bread, but I think I would have preferred tortilla chips instead as the bread disappeared way too fast and we found ourselves scooping out bites straight from the spoon. It just wasn't the easiest way to share an appetizer. Thank goodness John and I aren't afraid of sharing each other's cooties!

Shortly after we wolfed down the ceviche, our very similar entrees arrived. We both ordered their "traditional plates" of pupusas, but mine had the addition of three chicken flautas and John got the beef tostada. Anyhow, we both agreed that the pupusas were definitely the star of the whole show; tender, fluffy corn tortilla pillows layered on the inside with ground pork or chicharrón. Both of our dishes were also served with house-made, refried black beans and sweet, plump, fried plantains. I really enjoyed the beans and unsuccessfully tried to sneak a spoonful from John's plate after I had licked my own little bowl clean.

I simply couldn't resist when our server touted their house flan, even though both of us were stuffed full. John waved the idea of dessert away, patting his tummy and groaning with every move, but after I convinced him to take a bite, the competition was on. It had a dense, almost cheesecake-like feel and tasted of a heavenly, buttery toffee. It was awesome to find yet another great restaurant within walking distance of our apartment and you know what's even cooler than that? They deliver...

Craving Cowbell...

2011-11-08T19:13:00.004-06:00

Call it an urge, itch, ache or yen, but I had a serious craving for Cowbell. As any woman can tell you, it's best not to ignore these inner lusts too often or chaos will likely ensue and cause unnecessary events like incurable bouts of crying, flying breakables or the ever-dreaded hissy fit. Wisely, John offered to accompany me on the long, four-block walk to fill this desperate need last Saturday around noon.

The restaurant was hopping when we arrived, happy folks filled the benches outside on the patio, but we only had to wait about five minutes before there was an available table indoors. I already knew what I wanted to order (I avidly follow their "specials" tweeted daily from @CowbellNOLA), so it was just a matter of choosing an appetizer and sipping on sodas while we waited for our food to arrive.

The dish we selected sounded like such a bizarre mix of flavors, we couldn't possibly pass it up. Dubbed "Figgy Toast," it consisted of a small bowl of braised andouille and sweet & sour figs with large, blue cheese croutons. It was such a strange amalgam of flavors and textures that turned out to be utterly delicious and incredibly fun to eat. The rich, reddish brown color of the sweet & sour sauce was so dark, that it was difficult to tell the figs from the sliced andouille until you popped it into your mouth.

As we gobbled the last sweet morsels, our entrees arrived. John went with the Cowbell natural beef burger with an added over-easy farm egg and thick sliced bacon on a toasted potato roll bun. He slathered on the irresistible, mayo based "Agogo" sauce as well as some of their house-made ketchup that features a distinctly cinnamon bite. Not surprisingly the burger was just as fantastic, juicy and flavorful, as it has been every time we've visited.

I veered from the norm, however, when I opted for one of the day's specials, a most excellent grilled cheese sandwich and a small cup of the soup of the day. Now, this is not your mom's grilled cheese with the ubiquitous, orange slices of American on soft, white bread, oh no. This sandwich featured manchego cheese with thin slices of roasted organic squash (perhaps drizzled with lemon?) pressed between two, thick slices of perfectly buttery and crispy ciabatta. I had died and gone to grilled cheese heaven. Oh and let's not forget the soup, a delightful curry plantain with mango jerk chicken. Yep, I was in soup heaven, too. After all, they're right next door to each other.

With my craving totally satiated, it was just an added bonus when we polished off a slice of their "Chocolate City" or flourless chocolate cake with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream, all made in house, naturally. We rolled out of the door, hefty and happy, John smiling and sighing in the knowledge that he narrowly avoided another craving catastrophe. Now, he just has to keep a sharp eye out for this week...

House of the week: Shotgun on Chartres Street

2011-11-04T16:06:00.001-05:00

While looking for my first New Orleans apartment over 8 years ago, I found the cutest place in the Marigny. It was half of a double shotgun on Burgundy Street with hardwood floors, 12 ft. ceilings, transom windows, a nice front porch, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the parlor and was located right across the street from a corner bar. As if that wasn't enough to sell me, the landlord was asking only $495 per month! Unfortunately, another potential renter beat me to the punch and came up with the first and last mere hours before I could write the check. Plus, my mother was with me and she was reluctant to appreciate the beauty of that up & coming neighborhood. I often wonder how my first year in New Orleans would have been different had I lived that close to Frenchman Street and the Quarter...

Since then, I have often checked apartment and house listings in that area and boy have prices changed. Eight years ago, I could have bought a gorgeous double shotgun in the Marigny for $250,000 or less! Not anymore. Yesterday, while browsing homes for weekly post, I spotted this beauty located on Chartres Street right off of Frenchmen and less than two blocks to the French Quarter. Originally a double shotgun, this gorgeous Victorian has been remodeled into a single, four bedroom/three bath home replete with floor-to-ceiling & transom windows, a huge front porch, gorgeous hardwood floors, high ceilings, fireplace mantles and a cute, enclosed courtyard-type backyard. This Marigny beauty is listed for the low, low price of $499,999. Ahh, what ever happened to the good old days?