NEW ORLEANS – What a way to start a visit.
We pulled up in a taxi and checked into our hotel, the Dauphine Orleans on Dauphine St. in the French Quarter (see photo). After unloading our gear in a nice room across the street in their courtyard building, we checked out the hotel bar, called May Baily’s Place. Like a lot of spots in this town, it was once a “sporting house” with lots of fun things for men to do.
In the old days it was one of the better known bordellos in what the hotel brochure calls “the fringe of the wildly infamous red-light district known as Storyville,” a planned prostitution area where the New Orleans government thought it best to keep such things concentrated back in the late 1800’s. Apparently some of the bordellos were beautiful, with large orchestras and chanedliers and polished dance floors. It all ended around 1917 when the U.S. Navy decided there were too many temptations for soldiers who needed to concentrate on World War I.
Anyway, the bar is fine enough, with fleur de lis wallpaper and old-time movies on a TV screen. Lots of smoking, which took me by surprise and not in a good way….
We no sooner got up to Bourbon St., just a block from the hotel, when a Mardi Gras parade passed us by. There was a pumping, fabulous marching band from a local high school that was pounding out a bright tune and thumping loudly on the drums, followed by several floats with folks dressed as pirates and princesses and, I think, maybe a chicken. I couldn’t quite tell. As one would expect, folks outside the bars advertising 20 ounce beers for $3 were clamouring for beads and necklaces and all that, and I joined in, ending up with five or six shiny green, yellow and purple bead collections to hang around my neck.
Great fun, and unexpected.
May Baily’s is a decent bar, but better for my tastes was a stop at the famous Carousel Bar at the Hotel Monteleone, a legendary place in these parts. At part of the bar you can sit at a rounded contraption and do slow circles around the bartenders in the middle, kinda like those revolving restaurants we used to love. I had to try a Sazerac, the legendary drink of New Orleans with rye, Pernod and bitters and vermouth. Mine came with absinthe instead of Pernod and it was quite tasty. I’m not big on licorice tasting drinks and I’m not a vermouth person, but it’s a fun drink.
Most drinks at the bar, which has several other sections and seems to go on forever, were $9. Which is pretty good for a glam spot like the Monteleone.
New Orleans is full of interesting characters.
A bunch of friends had recommended R’evolution, a fairly new restaurant in the French Quarter by local chefs John Folse and Rick Tramonto, and I’m glad they did. It’s a fabulous, fabulous restaurant with several styles of rooms, all with different feels, and a killer menu that puts some tasty spins on Cajun and Creole (I think) classics.
We sat in a bright room with black and white floor tiles and a view of the open kitchen, at least the finishing end of the kitchen. I was told the room is modelled after an old Italian deli in the area, so there’s a large fridge with giant salami’s curing inside in one corner, and bright red and white chairs. Tons of fun, for sure, and absolutely outstanding service. Just perfect.
We took our waiter’s recommendations and tried the citrus salad with greens, cashews and grapefruit, which was quite good if a tad small. I had the “Death by Gumbo” soup, which was a small, tender and flavourful quail stuffed with New Orleans-style rice and surrounded by a bowl of thick, rich, dark green-brown gumbo with small bits of okra and andouille sausage, which I wish I could find in Toronto. It’s amazing stuff, and the dish was tremendous.
We also sampled a very good gnocchi with lobster and, even better for my taste, some killer scallops with foie gras and celery. Only three scallops came with an order that cost $34, but they were large and absolutely perfect, with a light char that kept in the juices. An amazing scallops dish, for sure, but pricey.
On the other hand, we got a small dish of local greens with fiery pancetta for $5 and a good bottle of California Sauvignon Blanc was just $24. Try finding that in Toronto.
We didn’t order dessert but after we finished they brought around a tall jewelery box with several small dainties in them, including tiny peanut butter cookies and Austrian tarts and a small chocolate with curry that was better than you might think. They also bring around a couple amuse bouche prior to your meal; a nice touch.
We got a tour around the restaurant after dinner, checking out the 10,000 bottle wine cellar and all. They have one Mouton Rothschild that goes for $21,000 and I wonder if some idiot who comes for the Super Bowl on Feb. 3 might buy the damned thing.
The parlour room feels like a fancy French restaurant, with murals on the wall, while the Bienville room feels more like a modern bistro. The bar area is cool with an open display of liquor paraphernalia, and even a small camp stove once owned by Confederate leader Robert E. Lee. Not something you see every day.
Dinner for two with two appetizers and two mains, plus the wine, was about $140. Not bad. And a wonderful experience.
My room at the Daupine is quite nice, with an exposed brick wall and dark beamed ceiling and louvred shutters on the windows. The bathroom area is nice and the room is good sized. It’s close to Bourbon St. but surprisingly quiet, and the courtyard area is quite pretty.
All in all, a great start. Doing a tour of the French Quarter today and then checking out of the larger Mardi Gras parades before having dinner at Arnaud’s. Can’t wait.
DAY TWO
NEW ORLEANS – Friday nght it was R’evolution, a new, cutting edge twist on Cajun/Creole cooking. Saturday, it was all about tradition. And flames.
We had breakfast at Brennan’s on Royal St., an institution in New Orleans for years and years. It’s the birthplace of Bananas Foster, with rum and butter that’s set ablaze tableside for you, then dished out with vanilla ice cream.
It’s said, and I believe I’ve got this right but please no lawsuits if it’s a bit off, that the owner once asked his French chef to come up with something unique. New Orleans being a big port and the entry point for millions of bananas back in the day, the chef one day announced his creation while the owner, Mr. Brennan, was at the table with a friend, Mr. Foster. Brennan is said to have to told his friend he was going to make him famous by naming the dish after him, and so he has.
If you’re lucky, you might get a pretty good show from one of the long-time, tuxedoed waiters. Ours was fine, but I couldn’t help wishing we had the large, round-shouldered waiter in the corner who was doing countdowns and flirting with the ladies as he prepared the dish. Still, our guy had flames going that seemed to lick the ceiling. Ditto for a speciality strawberry dish soaked in lemon and orange juices and also set aflame. Not bad, but soggy strawberries should be best be left for Comfort Inn’s on the highway in Tennessee, methinks.
They start you off at Brennan’s with fresh bread, including crispy strips of perfect baguettes topped with cinnamon-sugar, which makes you feel like a kid again and go down far too easy.
They do all sorts of egg and shrimp and oyster dishes for breakfast, including seafood with hollandaise sauces and tons of other creamy bits. I’m not one for hollandaise or anything goopy on my food, so I steered clear and went for a fabulously tasty omelette with cheddar cheese and andouille sausage, that Louisiana delight that’s usually found in gumbo in these parts and is way too hard to find in Toronto.
The turtle soup is nice and rich and gently spicy and they make a very tasty French onion soup and a not bad oyster soup, as well.
Following a tour of the French Quarter and an afternoon getting organized for the Krewe du Vieux Mardi Gras parade through town (more on that in a future edition of Star Travel), we had dinner at Arnaud’s, another local institution.
It’s a beautiful spot on Bienville St. with a real, classic French feel to it; lots of glass and white columns and a tiled foor that feels like a classy spot on the Cote D’Azur. Or something like that.
They bring around a fun potato souffle that’s like a puffy potato chip that you can dip into hollandaise sauce or gobble down on its own. The crab cakes were moist and meaty and delicious and I had a shrimp creole dish that was nicely kicked up on the spice-o-meter at my request. I didn’t think a lot of the local Pompano Duarte with tomatoes and garlic on top, to be honest.
We had a nice creme brulee for dessert. But the best part of the evening was another old-fashioned display of tableside pyrotechnics. Instead of flaming a pan of bananas and rum, this was called Coffee Brulot. They warm up an orange that’s spiked with cloves and also toss cloves, cinnamon, orange curacao and other treats into a pan and set the fire going, then ladle hot coffee and the spice mix into a glass that’s rimmed with sugar. I like my coffee with creme but you don’t want to mix citrus and creme, I was told, so I took it black. And quite enjoyed it.
They have a small display area/museum upstairs with old Mardi Gras costumes and photos from back in the day that makes for a nice post-dinner treat, so be sure to ask about it. Or you can try the lively bar next door or, if you wish to get very silly, duck onto Bourbon St. and try a nasty drink like a Hurricane or a Hand Grenade.
Arnaud’s, and Brennan’s, are both old-time New Orleans. Tuxedoed waiters, impeccable service, a real old-school feel and good food. Not cutting edge or anything, but a wonderful place to connect with the NOLA of old and a great spot to take an elderly aunt or uncle, I’d think.
I didn’t have much time in the afternoon but I did manage to find a muffelatta place near my hotel, Soniat House. Muffelatta is a tasty mix of Italian deli meats on a soft bun with a crunchy exterior, topped with olive oil and spices and a mix of, I believe, chopped green olives and carrots. Absolutely stupendous. And $5 for a half sandwich; a real steal!
