As the plane landed, I began running through the myriad of things that I could expect to see in New Orleans. I knew it would be muggy and hot; (and damn do I ever hate muggy...come to think of it, I despise hot too; this should be a real kick in the pants) but what I didn't know, was whether to expect some sort of post apocalyptic setting out of a Stephen King novel due to the destruction left in Katrina's wake; or was that thought nothing but my ignorance getting the best of me? Thankfully it turned out to be the latter. New Orleans has the general appeal that most larger cities do: restaurants, shopping, decent public transportation, pan handlers, street performers and the overwhelming scent of dried urine, (with a touch of regret) that seems to be continuously reconstituted due to the inherent mugginess that forever lingers. Olfactory senses be damned; I wasn't going to let some ancillary smell(s) ruin my overall experience; and the true reason that I needed to visit NOLA...the food! It wasn't that I wanted to just try the food and get the feel for that Southern hospitality...I NEEDED to partake in it, and NEEDED to try to immerse myself into the culture the best that I could during my short tenure there; so that I could then try to replicate the experience when I got back home to Northern California. On my list of things to try were the cultural staples: red beans and rice, jambalaya, gumbo, oysters any way that I could get them, fried chicken, biscuits, bread pudding and any seafood that the mighty Mississippi river was willing to relinquish.
The first place that coincided with my wants and desires; (and of course that Yelp also agreed with) was: "The Original Pierre Maspero's", a few blocks from Bourbon Street, in the French Quarter. Walking in and getting sat was an inherently easier task than I had originally thought it would be, due to the amount of people milling about. Every table was full, save for a small two top, right next to a pillar (almost an afterthought really, as far as table placement goes) that suited my needs perfectly. I needed food and frankly I would have sat on the floor if it meant that I could shovel something in my face sooner rather than later. I was met by a gracious gentleman that brought menus and took the drink order...just water...BORING! As I perused the menu, I thought about the aforementioned list and found a few things that I could work with: a bowl of gumbo to start; then blackened jambalaya with chicken, andouille and shrimp, a seafood pot pie and bourbon bread pudding to bring up the rear.
Now don't sit there and judge me for being a gluttonous pig; (I know that there are kids starving in China) I had company and thankfully my wife was willing to share so I could try more things off the menu...it really was a shame she didn't get to try the bread pudding a la mode; she would have liked it...but I digress. As I was looking around, (and drinking water like I had just gotten back from a hike across the Sahara, our waiter returned numerous times to keep the glasses topped up which I use as the number one gauge on the tip that they will receive; huge bonus for him) I noticed, rather felt the energy in the restaurant. The customers were happy, eating and imbibing; the wait staff scurrying about, staying busy but not rushing the patrons....which is a feat in itself to keep turning tables and not make the customer feel rushed; bonus for the staff overall! Sorry...I digress yet again!
Okay, fast forward to two more glasses of water consumed and yet topped off again; and finally the food arrives! I'm not one for ostentatious food/plate presentation...it always seems to be a daunting task to be able to appropriately attack the meal with knife and fork, without ruining the quasi masterpiece that sits before me. Thankfully the restaurant, the staff and more importantly the food wasn't pretentious; so I was able to dive right in!
The myriad of flavors that danced about my taste buds was a full frontal assault; without negative connotation! It was amazing! The gumbo was delectable. It had okra and andouille and an amazing broth that made it so that eating a gallon of it was it entirely possible! Broth was thin but unctuous and you could taste the amount of time that was put into it. That is my kind of dish.
The blackening seasoning for the jambalaya was spicy and savory and perfect! Sometimes in restaurants, it is easy to have food envy...this wasn't one of those times. I was extremely excited, and proud that I had picked this dish and didn't want to share it; not even a little bit...what a jerk! (Don't worry, I did end up sharing a bite or two! Hey, stop yelling at me! If she wanted jambalaya, she should have ordered it!) Dammit, there I go with my tangential digression yet again. As I peer across the table at the seafood pot pie; it wasn't a traditional "pie" like I thought it would be. It was a thin white sauce, slathered over a regular biscuit. What the hell is this?!?! This isn't in a pot...or made to look like a pie. It is a damn biscuit. Food envy tonight? Not a chance!
I found it peculiar that the wife was making no comments, no sounds...wait, she wasn't even looking up from her food! What is this?!?! Is she trying to not share? Who would do such a thing?!?! What nerve! Don't worry, I caught onto what she was trying to pull and very precociously snuck my fork into her plate. I'm pretty sure that she didn't notice, or care...and as soon as the fork hit my mouth I knew why! For me to say that her food was good may be the understatement of the month...nay, year! It was phenomenal! The sauce was white and thin as I had said; and to this day I will never know how they were able to pack so much flavor into such and unassuming looking sauce. I could taste every layer, without it being disjointed and lacking cohesion. The crab, the shrimp, the scallions, the cream...all of it came together with a cacophony of flavor! It was amazing! I didn't even care that it seemed to be just dumped on a biscuit; because the aforementioned biscuit was hands down the best biscuit I have ever had! How did they do it? I have had biscuits before...I have even had Southern biscuits in Atlanta...this wasn't even close! It was buttery and flaky; and really a perfect pillow for the seafood and sauce to rest upon! Not to be redundant...but it truly was amazing! That is apparently what I get for getting cocky and saying that I didn't have food envy. Honestly, if there was a gun to my head I don't know that I would have picked the pot pie over my jambalaya if I went back, (and by the way, we did; we went back and ordered the exact same meal again three days later; it truly was that good) but it was the perfect accompaniment to what I was in the process of scarfing down. I tried to slow down so that I could enjoy the meal; and make it last...it was impossible!
I'm not typically a "sweets" guy; but my eyes were on the prize the entire time. I had yet to taste a better bread pudding than my Mama's; but I was willing to try. When it came to the table, the first thing(s) I smelled were bourbon and butter...I'd say they were off to a great start! There was a scoop of vanilla ice cream that sat atop the bread pudding; and as soon as that had been dethroned...I got to work. To this day, it was hands down the second best bread pudding I have had...and it lost more due to nostalgia than anything else. If you read this and it makes you want to go to NOLA; you would be doing yourself an extreme disservice by not partaking in the bread pudding; it was that good!
This was the first night that we were there; and if that is any sign for what is to come...I may never leave. Well of course that is an exaggeration because I did leave; buy all be damned if I didn't take back more than the memories of that food, that night...I have the proof on my waistline, but every bite was well worth it!
Stay tuned for breakfast on day two!
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