Culinary Antiques at Lucullus

This New Orleans antiques shop specializes in culinary objects; they have galleries on Chartres and Magazine streets

Here are a few more shots from my trip:

Peristyle Restaurant, New Orleans is a big letdown

Monday Morning, New Orleans

Don't forget to be kind to strangers. For some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it.
--Hebrews 13:2


I'm back from NOLA, having faced the thrill of culinary victory at Bayona and the agony of defeat at the hands of those cheating, pretentious bastards at Peristyle. I can't help but compare the delightful experience that I had at Bayona, one of several, to the total disappointment in every possible way at Peristyle. I should have paid attention when Anne Kearney moved on, but Tom Wolfe, who took over, has a good reputation. I didn't do my homework, and the Zagat rating might not have been updated recently. Shame on me. It must have been my fault. Maybe I'm just not pretty enough. Maybe I don't exude star power (I'm working on that, see previous post on dietitian and trainer).

Let's compare them:

Our reservations were around 6 pm; no, not a fashionable hour, but it's all we could get at both establishments.

Bayona: a warm greeting when we arrive and we are whisked to a large table in pleasant surroundings, in a dining room that's approximately 1/2 full. We are greeted by our waiter immediately, get the extra info about the menu, and a wine list.

Peristyle: a cool appraisal by the host who tells us to have a seat as our table isn't ready yet - he tells us not to bother ordering drinks as we will be seated shortly. Several minutes go by.....finally we are escorted into a cavernous dining room that has only 3 other parties in it. We are seated immediately next to a couple, so close that I could reach over and sample her meal if the mood struck me. We were given menus and a wine list; the waitress arrived, god love her, and when we asked her about a couple of wines, we received a blank stare. She mumbled that she'd be back with an answer. At this point, I expected the sommelier to come over. Nope, she comes back with a wine recommendation that she must have acquired by means of a dart board. Or the sommelier yelled it out to her while on cigarette break in the back alley. It was a wine made for people who hate wine.

Bayona: It's hot and muggy, so we decide on a New Zealand Sauvignon blanc, but can't decide which one - we ask the waiter, who says that his favorite is the Spy Valley, if we're looking for something fresh and green. We talk about wine for a while, and then about dinner, and I notice that we aren't so much ordering dinner, we're really having a pleasant conversation about food. We talk about appetizers, and how they're prepared, and dinner, and the red snapper they have that night. It's obvious that the waiter has tried everything on the menu, knows the wine list as well as the sommelier (who was delightful), and takes his profession very seriously. He is there to make the dining experience special. Whether he thinks we know our ass from our elbow about food or wine is immaterial. He makes us, and the other people he's waiting on, feel like we do.

Peristyle: We place our order with the waitress, who though kind, is unenthusiastic to say the least. Keep in mind that the two restaurants have similar pricing - at this level food should be performance art. Whether the service is interactive, like Bayona, or unobtrusively efficient and perceptive, like the Rib Room, perhaps, you should feel pampered. Back to our story. The rolls come out, and you only notice rolls when they are really bad. Which these were. Dry, tired, uninspired. My crabmeat salad arrives and it's good, but not sublime. Dinner arrives. I had quail - in retrospect, an ordering mistake, but hey, who knew this place would suck so bad? The stuffing had so much tasso that it beat the living daylights out of the poor little bird. It was a little piece of smoked ham hell.

Bayona: The first round of appetizers arrive, a savory rhubarb tart with a foie gras mousse for Geoff, and seared scallops for me. Perfect. We split an order of Grilled Shrimp with Black Bean Cake and Coriander Sauce, which I've had there a few times - it's a fave. I had the best red snapper I've ever eaten, Geoff had a delicious Alsatian salmon - it was breaded and served on a bed of sauerkraut. After dessert and coffee I felt relaxed, happy and satisfied.

Peristyle: I could taste the imminent indigestion after the main course. Without speaking I could tell that Geoff felt the same - we skipped dessert and blew out of there asap, directly to the Hagen Daas for a much needed dish of coffee ice cream. We both felt cheated, angry and disappointed. Perhaps we visited them on an off night, but I wouldn't consider going back, since there are so many destination restaurants in town.

Maybe I'm being unfair, but I had to vent.

Bermuda Fish Chowder

This is a really easy fish chowder that's a flavorful alternative to bouillabaisse

I found the recipe from Epicurious.com when I was looking around for ways to use an old hunk of halibut that had been lounging in the freezer too long - I didn't think that a traditional New England fish chowder recipe would mask the taste of a tired fish, and bouillabaise is a too lovely for this piece, which was from a catch of unusually tough halibut we got from Alaska. The preparation wasn't too painful and the chowder had really big, interesting flavor. It was even better for lunch the next day. Here's a copy of the recipe with my modifications:

1 medium onion, chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped (I used an ancho chile)
1 leek (white and pale green parts only), chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
1 medium tomato, peeled, seeded, and chopped
2 large garlic cloves, minced (I used 4)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 cups fish stock or bottled clam juice
5 cups water (I substituted some Hogue Fume Blanc)
2 1/4 lb mixed white fish fillets such as cod, grouper, tilefish, and snapper, skin and bones removed
1/4 cup tomato paste (used the whole small can, didn't measure)
1 bay leaf (3 Penzey's bay leaves)
1 teaspoon whole allspice, tied in a cheesecloth bag (I added a few more, but be careful, or you end up with chowder that tastes like a fish-flavored hermit cookie)
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme, crumbled (around 1 tablespoon fresh)
1 teaspoon hot pepper sauce, or to taste
3 tablespoons cornstarch stirred together with 3 tablespoons water (don't really need it, I omitted it)
12 small hard-shell clams such as littlenecks, scrubbed
1 lb medium shrimp, shelled and deveined
2 to 3 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce (I used a bit more)
1/4 cup dark rum, or to taste (believe it or not, I had the Gosling's Bermuda rum that the recipe calls for)
2 tablespoons Sherry pepper sauce (not critical, I didn't bother - I used the ancho chile for extra heat instead of green pepper anyway)

Cook onion, bell pepper, leek, carrots, celery, chopped tomato, and garlic in butter in a 6-quart wide heavy pot over moderate heat, stirring frequently, until softened, about 10 minutes. Stir in stock and water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer briskly, uncovered, 20 minutes.
Stir in fish, tomato paste, bay leaf, cheesecloth bag of allspice, thyme, hot pepper sauce, and salt and pepper to taste. Simmer 20 minutes (fish will break up), then restir cornstarch mixture and stir into chowder. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until thickened, about 2 minutes.

Stir in clams, shrimp, Worcestershire sauce, and rum and gently simmer 30 minutes. Remove from heat and let chowder stand, covered, 1 hour. Gently return to a simmer and stir in Sherry pepper sauce.



Makes 6 to 8 servings (about 12 cups).

I approach my trip to New Orleans with trepidation....

I'm heading to NOLA this coming weekend and needless to say, Geoff made dinner reservations weeks ahead. Last week I spoke to my dietitian at Fat Girl Class about how to enjoy the New Orleans culinary experience without pulling the calorie ripcord. She said that I should eat everything that I want. The good news is that the restaurants we go to, with the exception of Marisol, have small portions; I always feel like a python that just consumed a small goat after dining there. No, I suppose don't need to order double appetizers and dessert, but it's so good....

So yes, the dietitian said that I should have what I want, but you know there's a catch - I can have one beignet instead of a full order, I have to leave some food on my plate if it's a huge portion, and I should just skip dessert altogether. I'll have to curtail my morning walks to Croissant D'Or on Ursulines Street to load up on pastries. Or I can have one pastry after I run a few miles. Thankfully, I loathe most huge cocktails like Hurricanes - but then again, the Blacksmith Shop does have a drink aptly named Voodoo, composed of grape soda, bourbon and everclear. Bring me a go cup.

More Food Hell

Chapter 2. Mac and Cheese Desecration



My assignment from the dietitian last week was to take a favorite fat filled recipe and modify it so that it no longer guarantees a trip to Portsmouth Hospital for an emergency angioplasty. Talk about taking all the fun out of life.

Surprisingly, I've never been a big fettucine alfredo fan, however if you took that bowl of noodles and baked them in the oven with a cracker topping, you might get my attention. Macaroni and cheese is my fat, starchy weapon of choice. I believe that it, like the crocodile, shark and fiddlehead fern, has not evolved for millions of years because it is a perfect species.

How could I do this to my most beloved of recipes, renamed "Bobaroni" and cheese for my friend Robert Croall, who refuses to come over for dinner unless I prepare it?

Then again, I do like a challenge, and the Weightwatchers frozen mac and cheese is virtually inedible. It makes Kraft Dinner look like the Chariot des Fromages at the Georges V.

So here's my old recipe, basic but beautiful:

Heat water for 1 pound of macaroni - I like shells, or penne, or elbows, or spirals, or those wheelie shapes, you get the idea.
Melt 4 T butter in a medium saucepan
Add 4 T flour and heat for 2 minutes
Add 2 cups of hot whole milk and 1/2 to 1 teaspoon of salt
Heat mixture, stirring continually, until thickened
Add at least 1 cup of shredded sharp cheddar or gruyere. My Dad, a mac and cheese meister, likes Cabot's extra sharp or hunter's cheese, or the aged cheddar from the Old Country Store in Moultonboro (which is actually Cabot that they age for a few extra epochs)
Stir until cheese is melted and sauce is smooth. When the macaroni is just barely done, drain it, put it back in the pan you boiled it in, and add the sauce to it. Stir the sauce and pasta together with a wooden spoon or silicone spatula (don't want to bruise the little darlings) and pour it into a 9 x 13 pan - I like pyrex or ceramic. Sprinkle a fistful (or more - if some is good, more is better) of crushed ritz crackers and some additional shredded cheese over the top. Bake in a 450 degree oven for about 20 minutes - the pan is shallow, the heat is high, so the top gets crunchy quickly, and I'm often wildly impatient by this point. Long enough that the cheese is bubbly and the top is brown. Macaroni and cheese that is too gooey, or unbaked, is vile.

This recipe makes 8 servings at 470 calories each.

I made the following modifications: I kept the butter and flour, but changed the milk to skim and used Cabot 75% less fat cheddar that Deb found for me. I omitted the Ritz cracker topping. The macaroni can't be changed.

Calories per serving go down to 335...that means I can have an extra helping!