Here, Eat This! The Adventures of Kiki Maraschino

Tuesday was a lazy day of napping punctuated by forays out to eat seafood. I slept in and we headed over to Galatoires. Jean Galatoire opened the Bourbon Street restaurant in 1905. It is currently run by Melvin Rodrigue, who works closely with the grandsons of Jean Galatoire’s nephews. Even though the new second floor accepts reservations, the main room is still seated on a first-come-first-serve basis and lines usually snake around the block. Since there was a lull in tourism and it wasn’t lunch hour, we practically had the place to ourselves. Everything was shiny and gleaming, from the cutlery to the mirrors that line the walls.

We started our meal with the Galatoire Grand Goute, a seafood sampler of sorts. The standout was the shrimp remoulade, made with large shrimp and served cold. The crab was a little difficult to pick out, as it fell between the lettuce leaves that provided its bed. The crawfish was addictive. I could have eaten it all day.

At the server’s suggestion we added a brochette of bacon-wrapped oysters. Plump, juicy, and scorchingly hot, they were coated in a fritter batter. There is perhaps no surer way to improve upon a food than to wrap it in bacon and deep-fry it.

I decided if anyone was going to make me like soft-shelled crab again it would be Galatoire’s. I was on a mission. Galatoire’s serves it two ways, deep-fried and sauteed in butter. Unfortunately the shell was still too thick, not paper-thin as I had hoped. It was better than Felix’s, but still I think it’s time to accept it. It’s never the same as the first time.

Redfish in a butter sauce with crab and mushrooms was tender and delectable

The bread pudding was lovely, but we were kind of bread pudding-ed out at this point. Nothing could match the Praline Connection’s version.

As we ate, a group of waiters sat barely out of earshot telling stories and laughing. I could barely make out the louder comments. I heard one say, “So this guy, he’s in there all night, giving everyone grief, especially Louie. Well Louie, he just smiles and takes it and doesn’t say nothing. Then after he left, the guy is walking through the alley, and Louie is standing by the back door waiting with a frying pan, and Kabaaam!!!” and they all burst into laughter.

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Even when I can’t afford a nice hotel for the entire trip, I like to pamper myself for a few days when I can. The Ritz Carlton was only $150 a night during the weeknights. So we were suddenly ensconced in pure luxury. There was a huge bouquet of roses in the lobby the size of a VW bug and I thought at first they were fake, then I realized, “If they don’t have real roses at the Ritz, where would they?” so I went and smelled them and yes, they were real. The room was in a dark corner with no view, but those are usually my favorite rooms because they are so quiet.

Other than the opulence, one benefit of the Ritz is its location at the edge of the quarter. One block away were oyster competitors Felix’s and Acme. Felix’s has shrunk in size, occupying less than half of its previous square footage.

I have never liked oysters, but I have never stopped trying to like them. I have eaten them raw, fried, barbequed, really every Bubba Gump way and in every big city that is supposed to be famous for oysters. I just never liked them – it’s that green stuff in the middle. But I had heard good things about the barbecued oysters at Felix’s and I wasn’t quite ready to give up on them just yet. Swimming in garlicky butter and smoked to a tender consistency, they finally did it. I LOVED these oysters and ate three – a record. I would have eaten all of them, but I had to share.

Plus we had also ordered a catfish po’boy and a soft-shelled crab po’boy. Lately all of the soft-shelled crabs I’ve tried have had a too-tough shell. But c’mon, this is New Orleans, the home of amazing soft-shelled crab. Damn it. They just weren’t as papery and melting as they are in my memory.

After a walk around and a nice massage back at the hotel, we stopped in at the Bourbon House for a dessert. Because Felix’s and Acme aren’t enough oysters for this corner – the Brennan’s had to represent. The trifecta of mousses was good, but the white chocolate was the best.

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Jane Stern answers the question, “What is Roadfood?” in spite of some extremely loud wind.

The chain vs. franchise debate

The chain vs. franchise discussion continues

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I woke up early Sunday and headed over to Mother’s for breakfast. Grits and debris, and a side of polish sausage along with a nice fluffy biscuit was just what you need to get your day rolling.

In the afternoon we returned to the Roadfood Fest:

Sunday “from 11 a.m to 7 p.m. from the 300 to 600 blocks of Royal St., the free, first Louisiana RoadFood Festival will feature the original Roadfood Warriors, best-selling authors and Gourmet magazine writers Jane and Michael Stern, in “How to Find Roadfood” panel Sunday from 1:30 to 3 p.m. Ed Levine, Sara Roahen and others will join in the roundtable discussion on the steps of the Surpreme Court building.”

Mmm shrimp balls!

But I think I liked the fried artichokes better

Mmmm snowballs

You see a lot of weird shit on Bourbon Street

and some dapper Dans

Catfish and potato salad

On a side street we serendipitously ran into some ooey gooey butter cake.

Then we made our way to Jackson Square where you see some REALLY weird shit

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Jane and Michael Stern coined the phrase Roadfood over 30 years ago to describe food “from the highways and byways”, or as they put it so succinctly at a recent roundtabe, Roadfood is food “that is true to itself and true to its location.”. Regular contributors to Gourmet magazine with a series of successful books under their belt and an almost cult-like following on the web, the Sterns now have a talk show on NPR.

Michael Stern took some time out from the New Orleans Roadfood Festival to talk about Los Angeles Roadfood, greasy eats, and one of his favorite guilty pleasures.

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The fais-do-do was held at The Bayou Barn, a giant barn in Baritaria. There was boiled shrimp, potatoes and corn, bread and jambalaya on the main buffet. The spices had plenty of time to soak into the shrimp, so it was very flavorful, even though it’s harder to peel than crawfish.

There were boiled crawfish, which could have used a little more spice, but were tender and delicious. I think they were turning the later batches over so fast they weren’t as spicy.

I had the most fun throwing the live ones to the gators that lurked at water’s edge, waiting for a handout, no pun intended. One woman sidled up to me and said, “They can run faster than you can, you know.” But they can’t make fast turns, so remember that if you are ever being chased by an alligator. And they can’t climb trees. Or drive cars. Or shoot guns. Come to think of it, I am way scarier than a gator.

Crawfish have many uses. Like freaking people out.

The setup:

The attack!!!!

There was also a pig roasted over green oak. I didn’t know green wood burned, but what do I know. The pig was 2 years old, had been cooking since 6am, and his name was Fred. The meat of the cochon de lait was sweet and succulent. It may have been my favorite thing on the menu.

Fred

There was a zydeco band, dancing and fun.

They had a Roadfood jingle contest. We were supposed to work in groups, but between eating, drinking, playing with alligators and chasing people around with live crawfish, time got away from me.

Bob wrote this one up on the spur of the moment:

Crap fast food just ain’t for me
Tates like the floor of a factory
And Ronald McDonald you’re no friend of mine
‘Cause I like food thats made by hand
From the salt of the earth
and the fat of the land
Get some Roadfood, and Buddy, you’re doin’ fine

I tried some “swamp water” which is made from lots of alcohol, orange juice, pineapple juice, and I swear to God, snowball syrup. As the buses drove us back through the dark swamps, I was grateful I didn’t discover the swamp juice until the very end of the night.

SWAMP JUICE

Orange juice (2 quarts)
Margarita mix (1 bottle)
Peach Schnapps (1/2 bottle)
Malibu Rum (1/2 bottle)
Pineapple juice (2 quarts)
Triple Sec (1/4 bottle)
Vodka (to taste)
Praline flavored snowball syrup concentrate
Blueberry flavored snowball syrup concentrate

The Roadfood Report

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We stopped at Hansen’s Sno Bliz for shaved ice treats. What’s the difference between a sno cone, a sno ball and a sno bliz?

According to Chow.com, a snowball is defined as “hard, crunchy, grated ice is doused with moderate amounts of syrup…” A sno ball “looks like a snow cone but feels more like actual snow than hard ice chunks.” It is often topped with condensed milk.

Sno Bliz is the home of the sno ball, where they invented the machine that shaves the ice into flurries as light as air. They still use the original machine.

At Sno Bliz they layer ice and syrup to make sure the ice is fully saturated. When I asked the difference between a snowball and a snow bliz, they said, “well, it is our brand name.” They also have a flavor called “bliz” that most people liken to tart strawberry. I love that they have a size called “baby duper”.

There are special flavors including “cream” flavors, “plain” flavors, and “tart” flavors, including cream of almond, cream of marshmallow, cream of blueberry, spearmint, banana and bubblegum. To make it simple for the Roadfood special event, the choices were narrowed to only three: Strawberry, Tart Satsuma and Cream of Nectar.

I chose the “nectar” flavor because it was new and exciting. They could only describe the flavor to me as “sweet”. It was similar to cream soda. Bob ordered the satsuma, which was so startlingly tart it made you gleak. You could order it with or without condensed milk. Almost everyone chooses the condensed milk.

The Roadfood review

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OK, there IS a story behind this… Michael Stern of Roadfood

After the second line parade, the festival was all about the food. There were Budweiser booths, and the following participants (I checked off the ones I ate over the course of the weekend with an X):

Lasyone’s Meat Pie Restaurant
Meat Pies X
Crawfish Pies X

Dunbar’s Seafood
Famous Fried Catfish X
Potato Salad X
Pralines

Cafe Reconcile
White Beans
Banana Foster Bread Pudding

Vaucresson
Creole Hot Sausage Po-Boy
Creole Crawfish Sausage Po-Boy X

Saltwater Grill
Fried Green Tomato Shrimp Remoulade Po-boy
Crawfish and Spinach Boat

Tabasco Country Store
Jambalaya
Gator on a Stick
Pralines

Plum Street Snowball
Snowballs X

Deli at the Cellars
Shrimp Remoulade Po-Boy

The Que Crawl
Cochon de Lait Po-Boy X
12 Hour Roast Beef w/ Horseradish Cream and Pickled Red Onions
Fresh Cut French Fries
Duck Cracklins X

Dave’s Cajun Kitchen
Seafood Gumbo
Smoked Turkey Legs
Red Beans with Smoked Sausage X

Chad’s Bistro
Alligator Etouffe Over Creamy Grits
Shrimp Pasta
Fried Shrimp Balls X
Fried Artichoke Hearts X

UNKNOWN:
Duck gumbo
BBQ shrimp and corn on the cob

Our first stop was Dave’s Cajun Kitchen for Red Beans with Smoked Sausage. Or maybe I should call it the cup o’ sausage. The entire sausage was a bit unwieldy for walking-around food, but still pretty darn good.

The crawfish sausage po’boy from Vaucresson was Bob’s favorite selection.

Even though we didn’t eat the shrimp, we took pics. I snuck in the second one piggybacking on Michael’s photo.

Frying up the meat pies

The fries that came with the meat pies were nicely spiced and perfectly fried.

The crowd was happy…a good turnout, but not so crowded as to be uncomfortable.

The Que Crawl, a local lunch truck also known as “The big purple bus” did not put its duck cracklins on the board, you had to know to order them “off the menu.” The cracklins were the standout of the festival for me, heavily spiced explosions of pure fat. The truck rocked, and not just because of all the cute boys working the truck.

Cochon de lait po boy with vinegar sauce and cracklins

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Saturday the 1st annual New Orleans Roadfood Festival kicked off on Bourbon Street. The festival was timed to coincide with the 3rd annual Oyster Jubilee, which began around noon with the assembly of the world’s longest oyster po’boy. Which begs the question, where is the world’s longest shrimp po’boy and can I have some?

While we waited for the festivities to start, we stopped in at Cafe Beignet for a wake-up. It’s no Cafe du Monde, but the coffee was good and the beignet were doughier, made with more of an egg batter.

Various local restaurants, from Acme to Galatoures participated, each building a portion of the block-long sandwich. Folks crowded around, and people with particular preferences made a point to reserve a spot near their favorite eatery.

I believe my first slice of sandwich was from House of Blues, and the second was from Zia’s or Acme, which also loaded their po boy with shrimp. I was impressed that it was a free-for-all, and they were not selling the sandwich. I was even more impressed that there was no pushing and shoving; no wild feeding frenzy. The crowd was polite and patient. In fact, they were friendly and as happy as could be.

The group second-lined down to the Festival, one block over on Royal for the Roadfood Fest. Coincidentally, the brass band was the Storyville Stompers, the same band from our wedding. So altogether, this is the third time we have second-lined with them. But the fun was just getting started!

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There is no music in the world that sounds like as much fun as a New Orleans brass band. The fun just picks you up and shakes you til you party!

We passed by the Praline Connection on the way down the street, and made the taxi driver stop so we could jump out. Serendipity. The main dining room was closed, but the attached shop had 3 tables and we grabbed the last one.

The coconut pralines (pronounced PRAWleens, not PRAYleens) were a little too sweet. The nuts cut the sugar a little better. I think we ate three of them overnight.

We shared a combination plate since we had already had crawfish a little earlier. The ribs, catfish and jambalaya were perfection. I ate all of the skin off of the chicken breast we were supposed to share and left just the flesh – it was that good. Good enough to screw over loved ones.

He was busy hogging the deep, earthy seafood gumbo to notice.

It was seriously some of the best food we ate in New Orleans, which is saying something. But I was also seriously drunk. I remember taking some pictures that aren’t on my camera card of the owner, Mr Curtis, and I remember chatting with him for awhile and finding out the secret to their heavenly bread pudding – crushed-up pralines and amaretto. Hell yeah!

I remember this band playing outside.

We went to a party at The Skull Club, Lord David’s after-hours place in a loft, complete with a speakeasy-style peephole. We had had a pretty long day by that time, so we only stayed for a few beers.

This guy had gloves with built-in metal claws. They felt really good when he scratched me with them, but then I felt kind of creepy and had to ask him to stop.

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