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My Fair Druploids,
Welcome to the city. In the past few hours, i’ve gotten a head full of code talk and it dawns on me that you folks might well need something to eat.
I’m Pableaux Johnson, the guy that’s been roaming around with the Mongo Camera of the Apocolypse, and a new friend of Lullabot Nation. I’m also a local here who wrote a couple of books on Louisiana food and a food/travel writer. I’ve spent the past buncha years eating out here and don’t want you to have even one substandard meal during your stay.
Hence the site.
Peruse it at your leisure — prepared in 30 minutes flat — and hopefully find a few good recommendations, place or two you wouldn’t have found on your own, and some good tips to boot.
It’s currently in sketch form, so forgive the lack of consistency. Also (for GOD’S SAKE) ignore the fact that it’s built in WP. I’m fluent in that OTHER framework, but at least i’m learning…
best and hope it helps,
Pableaux
This twice-revived Midcity barroom/restaurant dedicates itself to the preservation of New Orleans’ native overstuffed sandwich — the po’boy. Seafood lovers should gravitate towards the oyster and shrimp versions, while omnivores should sample the drippy, sensuous roast beef. Be forewarned: these treasures are addictive and potentially coma-inducing.
538 HAGAN ST
504/482-3047
Even if you love the Bourbon Street scene, sometimes it’s good to see the good-natured, boozy chaos through a nice thick sheet of plate glass. Preferably if you’re sipping a nice cocktail and slurping down a few dozen cold, salty oysters at this, Dickie Brennan’s latest French Quarter eatery.
Tacked on to the Iberville side of the Astor Crowne Plaza hotel, the Bourbon House has the trademark Brennan’s formula down pat. The built-from -scratch space takes all the classic New Orleans architectural cues (clubby dark wood, tiny white hex tiles in the bathroom, intricate iron work on a spacious indoor mezzanine) and some that mark the restaurant as a descendent of Commander’s Palace (brass NO and YES direction markers on the kitchen doors). The menu features well-executed Creole standards (shrimp Creole, Gulf fish amandine, seafood gumbo, baked oysters served on fragrant herbed rock salt) along with a few contemporary updates (simple skin-on grilled redfish with wine-sauced lump crabmeat, Cobb salad with shrimp and crabmeat). The details are nice enough, but on the whole, the main room seems a bit contrived — a well-executed New Orleans-style atmosphere that could thrive in just about any American resort complex. If it was Bourbon House Las Vegas or Bourbon House Orlando, it would be an impressive establishment; it’s somehow less remarkable located in the cradle of historic Crescent City culture.
That said, the spacious cocktail/oyster bar practically begs you to kill an afternoon there, sipping beer after beer and ordering yet another “what the hell” dozen on the half shell. The window tables provide ringside seats for the city’s constant flow of Bourbon-bound traffic, from high-school brass bands playing for tips to the sorority girls wrapped in five dollar feather boas. The sizeable circular oyster bar seems more contemporary than traditional (Scandinavian wood instead of durable marble) as does the presentation (complex French brasserie-style seafood plateaux with boiled shrimp, crab claws and lobser joining the usual fresh-shucked oysters). A chalkboard behind the shuckers shows the home waters of today’s catch, described by coastal area — a visual that never fails to spark discussions about the local oyster trade.
Farther from the bar and closer to the streetside windows, the cocktail portion of the bar suffers from an unwanted modern intrusion — state-of-the-art plasma TVs and a huge wall-sized projection screen provide way to much distraction on the average visit. If it’s game day, that’s one thing, but the flickering images tend to detract from the beauty of the room and its prime location as well.
Whatever the weather, you should order at least one glass of their Bourbon Milk Punch, a signature drink that might well be the best use of frozen cocktail technology in the city. The first sip of the smooth, creamy drink might trigger distinct taste memories for those familiar with other Brennan’s establishments: the flavor smacks of the vanilla bean ice cream that accompanies the original Bananas Foster, mixed with a little whiskey and topped with an aromatic dusting of nutmeg. Sweet, rich and absolutely addictive, it’s a wonderful riff on this traditional Louisiana Christmastime cocktail; a perfect choice whether it’s blustery or sultry out on the street.
Even if you never make it inside the building , it’s possible to pick up a go-cupful of the drink at the restaurant’s street food concession — a brightly lit stall that cooks fresh crepes for the Bourbon Street crowds. The plastic cup, convenient though it may be, steals a little bit of the drink’s creamy texture, but when it’s 2AM in the Neon Zone and you find yourself munching a steaming, fresh-cooked crepe, chasing it with a sweet milk punch –there’s very little reason to complain.
FRENCHMAN STREET
Most any tourist can find Bourbon Street — and believe us, ANY tourist does — but the music-crazy locals tend to congregate on this strip of music joints a few blocks downriver in the Faubourg Marigney district. Music flows out onto the street from bars such as the Spotted Cat (featuring everything from swing to bourbon-soaked blues), Snug Harbor Jazz Bistro (the Marsalis family’s home port), and dba (premium liquors and just about anything that will fit on stage). Last call rarely comes, because there’s always an “next club” to draw you in.
FRENCHMAN STREET BTW. DECATUR & DAUPHINE
VAUGHN’S LOUNGE
This much-beloved Thursday night standing gig is known worldwide as “Kermit at Vaughn’s” — a nod to trumpeter Kermit Ruffins, who packs the tiny Bywater corner bar whenever he’s in town. Round about midnight, the low-ceilinged barroom packs with a stellar brass band (Kermit or a list of worthy substitutes) and sweaty dancers with no sense of the morning after. If Mr. Ruffins is playin’, he’s literally cookin’ — and serving red beans and rice between sets.
800 LESSEPS ST.
504/947-5562
1201 Royal Street, French Quarter, New Orleans Open 24 hrs, 7 days a week phone 525-4767
Any kitchen can stay open 24 hours, but it takes special one to become a bonafide temple of drunkfood.
Located in the quiet section of the Vieux Carre, the Verti Marte is a somewhat claustrophobic, approachably seedy takeaway establishment that never gave up its grocery store roots. The busy kitchen hits its stride in the post-post-midnight hours and churns out an impressive range of cheap and satisfying fare — greasy, cheesy, saucy or crunchy; served on French bread or in transparent plastic containers; sweet, savory or salty. Whatever your post-crawl craving, the Verti Marte can usually satisfy it.
The Verti’s wide list of options caters to various states of impairment — point-and-serve dishes liked cheesy au gratin potatoes or smothered cabbage speak to the visual crowd, while customized poboys favor those who can string their preferred list of ingredients into a coherent order.
One of my favorite poboys is an inspired Verti Marte classic: fried oysters with crispy bacon and cheddar, dressed. The tender, subtly salty shellfish merges with crunchy cured pigflesh, a layer of iceberg and tomato; the whole magilla smoothed out with a layer of tangy cheese and a generous dollop of mayo. It’s one of those combinations that could only be created by a off-duty cooks midway through a post-shift bender.
For all its local fame, the Verti Marte has got to be a mixed blessing for its neighbors.
On the up side, there’s the advantages of an outstanding 24-hour neighborhood grocery at walking-distance disposal. The benefit of a hard-working neighborhood kitchen that never shuts down; a deep poboy list, a cooler filled with prepared vegetable dishes, and a full breakfast menu served anytime. Free delivery in the French Quarter and the nearby Faubourg Marigny.
On the down side, there’s the constant stream of night owls who seek out this renowned drunkfood destination. Wobbly crews of eighth-round bar hoppers seeking a little early morning sustenance. Marathon pub crawlers who manage to turn any horizontal surface into a nocturnal picnic area.
Now, I’m not saying that you’d do this stuff yourself, mind you, but for the sake of neighborhood harmony, take your macaroni and cheese away from the Marte before you start oohing and aaaahing over its ballast-providing magic. Poboy lovers are a bit luckier, since they can munch and moan in motion.
Whatever your pleasure, be respectful of the temple so it’ll be there the next time you need to make a late night pilgrimage. Otherwise, you might just have to settle for slice pizza or Neon Zone slider-burgers, and nobody really wants that, do they?
TUJAGUE’S
Steps away from the tourist-filled Café Du Monde, this unassuming barroom houses the longest and oldest saloon bars in a city known for its historic drinkeries. En route from venue to venue, stop in for a relaxed afternoon Sazerac (spicy rye whiskey with aromatic bitters and a rinse of anise and citrus). Consider it an liquid history lesson — – sipping the newly-named official cocktail of New Orleans in one of its most revered barrooms.
823 DECATUR ST.
504/525-8676
NAPOLEON HOUSE BAR AND CAFE
This seventeenth-century corner bar played host to old school French nationalists, who prepared a room for Mr. Bonaparte, just in case Elba didn’t work out. The patina of the walls, funky/formal atmosphere and air of history make it the perfect place to spend an afternoon, sipping the definitive Pimm’s Cup — a spicy gin-based cooler garnished with sliced cucumber.
500 CHARTRES STREET
504/524-9752
Every funky room at this Uptown standard exudes a welcome energy and drips with local artwork — thanks to the effort (and considerable collection) of owner, local fixture and bon vivant JoAnn Clevenger. She works the front of the house like a charismatic dervish as executive Ken Smith dedicates himself to dishes like a definitive dark-roux duck gumbo and fried green tomatoes topped with spicy shrimp remoulade.
4501 TCOUPITOULAS ST
504/894-9880
New Yorkers might remember the culinary team of Allison Vines and Slade Rushing from Jack’s Luxury Oyster Bar, where they ruled the tiny East Village kitchen before heading south toward home. The sleek supper-club atmosphere mirrors the precision and playfulness the chefs bring to dishes from the Southern and contemporary French canons. The deconstructed Oysters Rockefeller — poached shellfish with tender with shattering-crisp bacon chips — are a swoon-worthy signature riff on the New Orleans classic .
817 COMMON ST.
504/412-2580
Local boy Frank Brigtsen passed on the modern modes of empire builder and celebrity chef, instead choosing to run one tiny restaurant in the Riverbend neighborhood exceedingly well. The unassuming side-gallery shotgun house feels like home to most of the loyal regulars from home and afar. Brigtsen’s wife Marna and her sisters run the dining rooms with a “damned near family” vibe; Frank works his tiny kitchen, pumping out fish and game classics like Louisiana shrimp remoulade with creamy devilled eggs and corn relish, pan-roasted venison and a wide-ranging “seafood platter” for the sampler crowd.
723 DANTE ST.
504/861-7610
A multi-hour, cocktail-fueled midday meal at this mirror-lined French Quarter Creole palace remains one of the city’s defining culinary experiences. Feast on delicate fresh-caught pompano amandine and the impossibly light souflee potatoes dipped in rich béarnaise. In keeping with the ways of the Old Line, arrive early (properly dressed — gentlemen in jackets, please) and let your tuxedo clad waiter be your trusty guide.
714 BOURBON ST.
504/525-2021
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