Napoleon House New Orleans: Good Food, No Napoleon

Napoleon House
500 Chartres St
New Orleans, LA 70130-2110
(504) 524-9752


The Napoleon House in the 1930's.

The Napoleon House is old. As the legend goes, the 200 year old building was first occupied by one Nicholas Girod, the mayor of New Orleans from 1812 to 1815. Ever the altruist, the ardently French Girod offered up his humble Louisiana dwelling to the exiled French conqueror. The potential adultation and publicity that Napoleon's entry into the Crescent City might have brought was, presumably, secondary in his mind. Girod even went so far as to commision the ship Seraphine - an integral part of a plan to rescue the Emperor from St. Helena by way of Dominique. Napoleon never showed and the plot never went through, but the Napoleon House soldiered on, becoming an iconic and never-changing bar, restaurant, and hangout for an assemblage of bums, writers, and tourists. Mostly tourists.

The place does have a faded, oldy-moldy ambience that's extremely pleasant, with dressed-up and efficient staff and a nicely considered menu. Even better? Prices are startlingly cheap, a minor miracle in the ridiculously marked Quarter. There's usually a line - goddamn vacationers, curse them and their economic- stimulating dollars! - so plan accordingly.



Pimms Cups are the Napoleon House's signature drink, a deceptively simple mixture of British gin, lemonade, a bit of Sprite, and cucumber. They're pretty things, served up in a tall glass, and are remarkably refreshing on a hot day - as last Saturday was. Hot days in November are about 95% of why I am going to school here.



My never-ending seafood gumbo quest saw its continuation with the Napoleon House's version ($6.95). I was extremely pleased. I love super-thick okra gumbo with lots of stuff in it, and this didn't disappoint, with a consistency more like a thick, unctuous, roux-thick sauce then a soup. It even came with half a gumbo crab, and gumbo crabs always fill me with love and celestial tolerance for my fellow man, which is a pretty goddamn rare thing around here. My only complaint is it coulda been a bigger portion.



We shared a large Greek salad ($6.75) with balsamic-honey dressing, marinated red peppers, sesame seed, and feta cheese, on a bed of spinach. An unorthodox salad but pretty damn tasty, and you could tell they were using nice cheese on this sucker. The salads here are quite interesting - they really seem to think them out and go beyond the usual "slap some romaine on a plate" routine". Aces.



My friend opted for the perennial favorite of a loaded baked potato. Big as yer head and covered in bacon and cheese, this was gooooddd. The British call these things "jacket potatoes". Further proof they're probably not actual humans but instead despots from Planet Zarg.

I think I'll definitely be back for a reprisal of that tasty, mighty thick gumbo. The rest of the menu sounds like primo up-scale bar snacks as well - antipasto salads, cheese plates, charcuterie boards, and a lovely looking toasted muffaletta. Conclusion? Sometimes those damn tourists know a thing or two. Come on down, order some booze, eat some food, and sit back and enjoy the Quarter.

You can even pretend to be Napoleon in a reprisal of every movie insane asylum scene ever. (Seriously, why do they do that?) They'll probably kick you out, but the choice? Baby, it is yours.

Basil Leaf: Jesus Christ It's a Whole Coconut

Basil Leaf
1438 S Carrollton Ave
New Orleans, LA 70118-2810
(504) 862-9001

Thai food is pretty much ubiquitous in the USA, New Orleans no-exception whatsoever. (Ask for a Korean restaurant, however..) Basil Leaf is one of a warren of "ethnic" restaurants on this particular bit of South Carrollton, with a Spanish, Lebanese, and Japanese place all within easy walkin' distance.

As Boucherie, our original intent, was completely booked up by yuppies in fetching vintage clothing, we punted to the Basil Leaf. It's really nice inside, with an upscale ambience, snappily dressed servers, and a not-too rowdy clientele. The menu is a rundown of your standard Thai entrees, with a couple interesting entrants - I might be able to get all cozy and funky with the crab meat eggplant napoleon sometime, just not this time. Prices are high, but this is New Orleans. If you're not eating po-boys from the corner shop, you're paying out the nose to eat out and you had best just shut your pie-hole and take it.



I began with a cup of spicy lemongrass soup with shrimp (Tom Yum) ($3.99), an okay rendition of a classic. The broth was all right, but there wasn't enough flavor, and not enough vegetables and "stuff" in it to hold my interest. And they put pineapple in there. Why in god's name would anyone put an innocent pineapple into an equally innocent cup of tom yum? I don't object to pineapple, man. Me and pineapple go way back, we cool with each other, I got a pineapple in my fridge right now- but I don't want to see pineapple all the time. We gotta be apart some days, somehow.

(Also, I make really good tom yum, just sayin').



We also tried some pan-fried potstickers. Sort of an odd concept - a big ol' potsticker with a teeny bit of filling and a whole lotta wrapper. The flavor was good, but more filling would be a good idea, folks.



My friend Pieter has a nice restaurant rule: order the weirdest sounding thing on the menu. At the Basil Leaf, that would be the young coconut seafood curry, billed as a coconut milk curry with chunks of real-live coconut up in the middle of it. We were deeply impressed by the presentation, that's for sure: that's a whole goddamn coconut on our plate, it's like a volcano of seafood, a mixed drink with curry in it, sweet mother of God! After admiring it for a bit, we dug in. The inside of our magical coconut proved to be a pretty good Thai seafood curry, with a nice array of seafood - including some healthily sized scallops and shrimp- and some incredibly thinly sliced and thus rather pleasant pieces of squid. Could have used more heat, but on the whole, a nice dish. Didn't detect any coconut chunks. Not that they taste like a heck of a lot. (Used to chew on coconut in India. Just felt like my arteries were beginning to harden, but it beat chewing gum).



We also tried kaffir lime chicken with vegetables and mushrooms, which was a pretty good curry - again, could have used an infusion of heat, and they cooked them broccoli's too long. I do like the flavor of kaffir lime in pretty much anything. Why is it such a pain in the butt to find? Do I need to start growing it in my house, igniting the suspicion of the neighbors?

On the whole, the Basil Leaf is a decent place to satisfy a Thai food jones in a cushy setting in the Tulane area. They do take-out via campus menus, satisfying the incredible caloric demands of my age-group. Which is a good thing. College students like yours truly depend on erzatz Thai and Japanese food to survive: we'd wither and die, like flowers in winter, without it. We'd be lost without our kaffir-lime martinis and pad-thai specials and California roll samplers. Don't even want to imagine it. What in god's name do students in Billings, Montana do? How do they survive sans spider rolls, seafood pad thai with fake krab, and "crab rangoon"?

....Never mind.

Fiorellas in the French Quarter

My gumbo journey through the French Quarter continues. It's been an interesting wander through the FQ's eateries, all in search of the perfect gumbo, the gumbo of my dreams, an Fiorella's was my latest mark. How does the place stack up?

Fiorella's is known mostly for fried chicken and a general assortment of Louisiana food. It's a small, funky place inside, and the outside usually hosts a healthy number of folks engaging in New Orlean's favorite sport: chain-smoking, drinking, and eating fried food. They're known for fried dill pickles. Haven't tried em'. (What do they say about this place? "After a New Orleans meal, you're always sure of your gallbladder?" Think I lifted that from Sarah Roahen's Gumbo Tales...)

I sat down and ordered me some gumbo and a Greek salad. Took a bit longer then I felt might be required to do gumbo and a Greek salad, but the servers were cute/heavily tattooed (as a good French Quarter waitress dang well should be).



The gumbo was the andouille, shrimp, and chicken variety. Verdict? Too dang thick for my tastes, without a ton of the rich, roux-a-riffic flavor that really gets my motor going. Wasn't bad, just too nondescript for my tastes, and wasn't hot enough temperature-wise either. That's a common complaint with gumbos. I am biased against andouille, as I come from a family that does ham instead. A few shrimps up in there, maybe could have used more.



The Greek salad was surprisingly delightful, with a small mountain of stinky grated parmesan, lots of feta, and a nice herby vinaigrette that probably had more cheese in it. A pretty nice effort and rather authentic to American style greek salad (ie, YUM CHEESE).

Don't miss the Friends of the Four Winds Sunday Soiree!

Looking for a great foodie event this weekend? Make tracks for this week's Friends of the Four Winds Sunday Soiree, benefiting 7th generation Louisiana shrimper Ray Brandhurst. The benefit will feature food and special dishes from some of the city's best known and most beloved chefs and restaurants, including chefs Donald Link and John Besh, Patois, Green Goddess Cafe, La Petit Grocery, Patti Constantin Designs in Catering, and others. Come help out one of Lousiana's most stalwart protectors of our local seafood, and have a great time in the process.

The Soiree will be held from 3:00 to 6:00 PM on November 15th, at the Uptowner Special Events and Catering on 428 Henry Clay Avenue. Tickets are $40 for adults and $10 for children, and can be bought at the door.

Founder of the White Boot Brigade, a group advocating for local seafood, Ray Brandhurst and his family lost their boat, their home, and their business post Katrina, attracting the attention of the New York Times. Now Ray faces another challenge: he has been diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer and requires some expensive treatments, which his insurance is not covering. To assist Ray with his medical bills, his friends and admirers have put together the Friends of The Four Winds Sunday Soiree.



This weekend at the Crescent City Farmer's Market, Brandhurst friend, James Beard nominated chef, and Gabrielle at the Uptowner catering owner Greg Sonnier gave away samples of his fabulous shrimp and corn bisque.



The trick? Home-made shrimp stock, lobster base, local shrimp and a dash of heavy cream. Just plain delicious.

An Ode to Key Lime Pie

Key Lime Pie is my favorite dessert.



We have all got our favorites of course, and our preferences can (I theorize) be traced back to early influences. Jeb likes apple pie because his mama made it on Thanksgiving, Tricia favors pineapple cake because she was born in Hawaii, and me, well, me: I like key lime pie because I am a native Floridian, and they have it at Florida Publix grocery stores, and brothers and sisters, it is damn good.

Don't cast up your noses immediately at the mere thought of consuming a mere grocery-store pariah, a foodie pariah-pie, a rightful outcast. After all, Key Lime Pie is in and of itself a low-rent operation, a food that is essentially unable to be dandied up, to be turned into gourmet cuisine. No matter how artisan the limes are, no matter how hand-whipped the whipped cream is or how organic the graham cracker crust is, no matter what, key lime pie is still made with condensed milk.




Match, set, the hipster foodie contingent is out in the cold, they have no defenses against condensed milk. For a key lime pie would be nothing without condensed milk, would not possess its cool and delightfully smooth creaminess, would not be the delightful hot-weather treat that it currently is. Condensed milk is key.

I went to Florida early last month, to visit my grandparents. I had one request for my grandmother. "Have a key lime pie for me in the fridge." The same request I make every time. You can't get good ones in California - they do key lime tarts, which are sissified, do not fufilll my needs completely. No, I need key lime pie in total, the right stuff, and I got it. That evening, watching Rick Steve's in Amsterdam on my grandparent's television, I popped open the box of key lime pie. I cut myself a large slice. I sat Indan style on the rug and ate it. Mostly with my hands, like a wild jungle savage. It was more delightful then I can say. I licked my fingers.

Where did key lime pie come from? From what genius brain did it emerge?


William Curry himself.

The Key Lime pie story, most agree, begins with a Mr. William Curry. Curry began life in 1821, born into a dirt-poor Bahamian immigrant family in Green Turtle Cay. He soon became a salvager, rescuing people from the water after their ships had been ransacked by pirates. His success as an early search and rescue stud led him to bigger and better things: via clever manipulation of the stock market, he would become Key West's first millionaire, and began building the elaborate and still-standing Curry Mansion in 1855. He died in 1896 as Florida's richest man. His descendants still reside in the Keys, keeping up the mansion and maintaining it as a luxe bed and breakfast.

So what does Mister Curry have to do with Florida's most excellent dessert? His cook,of course. Only known as "Aunt Sally," this delightful woman is thought to have created Key Lime pie in the mansion's kitchen in the late 1800's. Some posit she got the idea from local sponge fisherman, who often brought condensed milk, limes, and eggs with them on their expeditions, producing an ideal climate for Key Lime pie creation. Many credit Key West's lack of fresh milk as a major agent in the pie's genesis- condensed milk was what people used instead of the fresh stuff, and condensed milk is what makes key lime pie so damn good in the first place. Some say the first key lime pies weren't even baked, relying on the reaction between the juice and the milk to firm up. The first official mention of Key Lime Pie occurs in a 1930's newspaper, pitched to tourists as an exotic treat. Key lime pie has been going strong ever since. I suspect Florida restaurants lose their food-service license if it isn't on the menu.



So what about the key limes? Odds are good they're not what you're getting in your pie. The tiny, intensely flavorful fruits arrived in Florida from Malaysia around the 1500's. The hurricane of 1926 and Citrus canker disease devastated South Florida key lime plantations, and growers replaced the plants with hardier Persian limes. This means that finding an actual key-lime in a key-lime pie is somewhat akin to finding a magical unicorn in your bathroom.

Try telling that to Florida State Representative Bernie Papy, who in 1965 attempted to pass legislation that would slap a $100 fine on anyone selling pie made without real key limes. Needless to say, it didn't work. (Watch out, there be pie bandits among us! Oh no, Aunt Irma's in lock up! She lied about the limes!) Most of today's key limes pies are made with juice imported from Mexico and South America.


How does one define a good key lime pie? Everyone's got their sweet spot, but I like them simple. No green food coloring, for Christ's sake - a vaguely yellowish color is all that should be going on. The filling should be creamy and solid, with a nice give to it. The flavor should be tart, more crisp and bright then creamy and sweet. A fresh graham cracker crust, not too sweet, delightfully crumbly. Some real whipped cream around the edges. Some swear by key lime pie with a healthy adornment of meringue in top, which sounds good to me - I just haven't run across one made like that before. Key lime tarts, needless to say, are just wrong somehow.

As for real key lime juice vs. plain old lime juice? What's the taste difference? Is it really noticeable? Someone needs to do a taste test and report back. Maybe I will someday. Perhaps.

More links:

An excellent newspaper article on Key Lime Pie's history.

The Curry Mansion's official website.

The Blonde Giraffe Key Lime Pie factory. These guys have it all: from pie to key lime pie cookies to pie on a goddamn stick, they've thought of everything.

Kermit's Key West Key Lime Shop. Every key lime product known to man available here, including key lime moisturizer, key lime spicy barbeque sauce, key lime pretzels, and yeah, maybe a pie or two.

Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies. These look pretty good, and these folks are committed to using real fresh squeezed key limes, all the time, no ifs-ands-or-buts. God bless em'.

Pho Quyen: Fish Sauce Galore in Tampa, Florida

Phở Quyên
( Hillsborough )
8404 Hillsborough Ave.
Tampa, FL 33615
Tel: (813) 885-9424

I always like to have a good Vietnamese restaurant nearby. This is a universal desire of mine, carried across state and international lines: if I can't get my fish on in a timely fashion, I get all nervous. Thus I was thrilled when a Vietnamese restaurant opened a mere five minute drive from my grandparent's house in Tampa, and was even more pleased when I discovered Pho Quyen was uncommonly good. A few years later, the food is just as tasty and the service staff just as efficient, dishing up some of the more unusual Vietnamese specialities (Salted eels and frog legs, anyone?) to an appreciative and diverse crowd. I recommend it highly.



My first visit, I ordered my beloved papaya salad with pork and shrimp, with a fish sauce dressing. A very nice and fresh rendition, though it could have used a little more cilantro (Sez I). This is about the perfect hot weather meal when you're congenitally unable to eat anything involving pork grease or fried food, and those days happen a hell of a lot in Florida. (I am amazed people actually manage to be fat down there, but humanity is a fascinating and multi-faceted thing). Yeah, I love papaya salad to distraction.



I also scored with these pea greens, a weekly special. Pea greens are my favorite Chinese vegetable, with a flavor pleasantly in between spinach and bok-choy. These were prepared perfectly, with a lovely roasted-garlic flavor, and cooked just-long enough for maximal succulent crunchiness. Aces.



My grandmother and I returned for lunch a few days later. First up was the make-your-own-spring-roll plate, a tremendous $10.95 dollar platter full of a protein of your choice (lemongrass pork for us), vermicelli noodles, daikon and carrot, bean sprouts and other vegetable fixings, and plenty of rice paper wrappers. We ended up having enough left over for two more meals, and the pork had a nice, meaty lemongrass flavor. However, don't be fooled into believing you will roll pretty lovely spring rolls yourself. It is a lie. Your spring rolls will look like misshapen abominations before God, but at least they will taste pretty good. I don't know how the hell little old Vietnamese ladies manage to roll them up into delightfully symmetrical little packages, but it probably involves a chicken sacrifice ritual. Everything worth knowing involves sacrificing a chicken.



My grandmother tried the pho and deemed it mediocre, although she said it perked up considerably when she added various condiments to the shebang. I thought it tasted pretty good post-doctoring but cannot assess pre. Finding good pho is a mysterious art, and the really annoying thing is that good pho in the same restaurant as good entrees is well-night impossible. Hopefully I will be able to taste pho in Vietnam someday soon and thus be able to haughtily proclaim that I KNOW what pho ought to taste like and that is NOT IT to all who ask. Which they probably won't, but I hold out hope, I really do.


If you find yourself suffering a fish-sauce related attack of cold sweats, vapors, and ungodly pain fathomless to man in the West Hillsborough region of Tampa, direct thyself to Pho Quyen and order some Vietnamese stuff. You'll be much happier.

Hellas Restaurant: Tarpon Springs Greek Food, No Tacky Souvenirs Included

Hellas Restaurant 785 Dodecanese Blvd Tarpon Springs, FL 34689 (727) 934-8400

Hellas is one of the few jillion tourist-oriented Greek restaurants in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Why all the Greek restaurants in this little Florida hamlet, you ask? Well,n not surprisingly, Tarpon Springs is full of Greeks, who came to the little village to sponge-fish and never really left. I've been going there roughly since birth - I have vivid memories of hoovering down giant plates of fried calamari and smelts when I was five or so, to the great pleasure of nearby snowbird grannies. The giant fake great white in the shopping area, the little aquarium with the sting-ray touch tank, the sponge museum with the gory DIVER DYING FROM THE BENDS, it's all coded in my DNA, right down to the tacky-ass souvenir shops and the constantly playing, insanity-inducing sound of Greek pop music. I refuse to hear anything against Tarpon Springs. And you know you actually secretly want a freeze-dried gator head wearing sunglasses. Just admit it, for God's sake.

Hellas has a large bakery with a profusion of Greek style baked goods - think every kind of Baklava known to man - and strong, gritty Turkish coffee that could probably kill you from sheer potency. The adjoining restaurant is pretty good, and has a sort of entirely authentic character that can't really be replicated. You got your waitresses with cigarette smoker voices, you got the dining room full of people in tank tops and pink hats with flamingos on them, you got the guys shouting OPAAAA when they flame up a plate of Saganaki. I love that shit.



This is it: Tampa style Greek salad. You got your Greek salad, you got your potato salad with it, buried beneath a mantle of leafy greens.. Shut up and go with it. The combination somehow manages to be delightful, as the potato salad melds with the herbaceous Greek dressing to take on an oily, incredibly bad for you flavor. The salads at Hellas are insanely huge - this was the salad for one. The salad for five probably generates its own garlicky gravitational field. As local-style Greek salads go, it's pretty good, though ask them to go easy on the dressing.



I chose the grouper special, with Greek style tomato sauce, rice, and potatoes. I adore grouper, especially because it's as rare as unicorns outside Florida, and this was pretty good. The flavorful tomato sauce has plenty of oregano and lemon, and is a worthy accompaniment to seafood. Only gripe? Could have been hotter. Not hot enough food is a big no-no. The piece of fish was caveman sized, which is nice to see. Potatoes and rice pilaf were good enough as side-line carbs go. The bread here is crusty and light, if you're into pre-eating bread.

Also: that fish plate? That fish plate. That fish plate is amazing. I didn't even notice that pinnacle of awesome until I loaded the photo onto my computer. I need 200 of them.




My dad chose pan fried smelts and calamari. Smelts are kind of an acquired taste. They're nothing more then deep fried whole entire little oily fish, complete with bones. (They do lop the heads off). The flavor is unctuous and rather pleasing in a marine way, although I find that I'm perfectly satisfied after eating about three of them.



The calamari was pretty good, if non-descript. Again, not quite hot enough.

We declined a slice of baklava cheesecake larger then our collective heads, and stepped out again onto the street. Incredibly, it was a cold day - 60 degrees, cold enough to cause a native Floridian to run screaming towards a heater, and I am a native Floridian. We bought some lovely goats-milk soap then hustled to the car. I had satisfied my grouper consumption requirement for a trip to Florida. I wish I had bought a freeze-dried baby alligator reclining in a lounge chair, but there will be a next time.

Cafe de Siam in Tampa: Papaya Salad and Family Tradition

Cafe De Siam
11242 W Hillsborough Ave, Tampa, FL
(813) 855-1108 ‎

Cafe de Siam is our family's go-to Thai place, located very close to my grandparent's home in Tampa. It's a small, family run place with a pleasingly interesting menu and a basic but comfortable dining room: I believe I have been eating there for at least 8 years, possibly longer. The owners know my grandparents and are always happy to see us - we like seeing them, too.



My grandmother and I started off with some spring rolls. These were pretty unusual, with a flour crepe-like wrapping instead of rice paper. To my surprise, the crepe treatment worked very well: the filling of egg, bean sprouts, crab, and pork was fresh and crunchy. I didn't quite grasp the squiggle of Chinese mustard down the side, but then again, I have never quite grasped the Chinese mustard concept. (It just doesn't go with stuff! What the hell do you use it on? What the hell is pink "duck sauce"? NO ONE EATS THAT IN CHINA GOD okay i'm finished)



Next move: Thai papaya salad (som tam) with shrimp and peanuts. I love green papaya salad to distraction. It's one of my favorite foods: crunchy, deliciously fresh green papaya, spicy-ass fish sauce dressing, crunchy peanuts, and shrimps, in one delightful combination. In Thailand, som tam is considered to combine the four primary tastes of Thai cuisine: sour lime, hot chili, salty fish sauce, and sweetness from sugar. I've been told you can buy this stuff on the street in Thailand and dictate how much you want of each element - wish we had that going on in the USA. Really authentic versions are made with brined crabs, small and delightfully funky - order them if you see them available, as they're rather rare in the USA. This was a particularly finely grated and delicate version, with a pleasing slow burn and a bunch of crunchy peanuts. Entirely successful.



A dish of seafood in spicy garlic sauce proved to be another success - the fresh, high quality seafood was a pleasant departure from the usual soggy out-of-the-bag seafood combos most Thai places serve up. The sauce had a pleasantly powerful preserved garlic flavor, and I especially liked the chunky snow crab legs, as most places use fake krab and call it a day with this dish.



Red vegetable curry with coconut milk wasn't as much to my taste - the vegetables were a little overcooked, and the sheer richness of the dish ain't really my deal. I'm much more interested in the snappy, fresh, explosion of fresh style Thai cooking, although light-handed coconut milk preparations do have their place.

No dessert for us, although my cousin's swear up and down by their sticky black rice dish. We took back a whole bunch of leftovers. I'm always glad to see this place when I come into Tampa.

Good Asian food acts as my anchor point, the proof positive I need that I can like and thrive in a place, without it I'm adrift and confused - I must have readily available papaya salad or the world goes pear shaped, I'm lost. I am going to have to settle in California or actually finally in Asia, but this is a price I am prepared to pay up.

Tofu Doughnuts

Tofu Doughnut photo from the excellent Shizuoka Gourmet blog.

So we're sitting in our office today at Tulane, and my friend Amanda started talking about really disgusting food. "Tofu dougnuts," she said. "That sounds really disgusting."

I was sitting at my laptop, and thought fast. I immediately googled "Tofu Doughnuts". I was not at all surprised to find that tofu doughnuts actually exist. In fact, there are many recipes for tofu doughnuts, many incarnations of Tofu Doughnuts. Take a look.

Fluffy Tofu Doughnuts Holes
These look all right. Tofu is mashed into pancake batter, then fried.

Tofu Doughnuts
Straight up. Exactly what it says it is. Doughnuts made with tofu. They're popular in Japan. But they also eat ice cream with fish in it in Japan. (I suppose that would be in truth be no worse then freezing a herring salad, but freezing a herring salad?)

Korean Tofu Doughnuts from Mr. Doughnut. The reviewer says they are "terrible". Well.


Does this finding indicate something particular about the Internet? I suspect it does. Does the existence of Tofu Doughnuts indicate that our universe is a diverse and fascinating place, full of infinite variety?

Will I ever eat a tofu doughnut?

.....Maybe.

Foodie Events in NOLA

The Southern Food and Beverage Museum is hosting the first-ever Food Symposium and Literary Feast this weekend, in what should be the first in a series of food-writer friendly events in the Big Easy. The readers and writers conference will bring together food writers, food professionals, gourmets, and everyday foodies together, in an exchange of ideas, expertise, and a good recipe or two. The focus of this years event will be "The World's Fairs in New Orleans and Inventing Creole and Cajun Cuisine," and discussions will be conducted by local food figures such as Susan Tucker, Judy Walker, Peggy Scott LaBorde, Lawrence N. Powell, and others. Lunch will be provided in the ticket price. Check out the website for more information. 

The Big Read Kickoff Party and Food Symposium Reception will be held this Friday from 6:00 to 9:00 PM, featuring free food (sweets, gumbo, red beans and rice, a dish from Leah Chase), new exhibits, and book signings from local writers Sara Roahen (Gumbo Tales); Jerry Strahan (Managing Ignatius); and Bill Loehfelm, (Fresh Kills and Bloodroot). 

-Check out the Garden District Bookshop's book signing event with local chef John Besh this Tuesday. The chef will sign his new book, "My New Orleans," and discuss various aspects of his culinary life and times.

From the Garden District Book Shop's mailing list:

Upcoming Events:  My New Orleans  by John Besh 

  Discussion & Booksigning Tuesday Oct. 27  5:30-7:00 PM  

My New Orleans will change the way you look at New Orleans cooking and the way you see World-famous chef John Besh. It's 16 chapters of culture, history, essay and insight, and pure goodness. Besh tells us the story of his New Orleans by the season and by the dish. Archival, four-color, location photography along with ingredient information make the Big Easy easy to tackle in home kitchens. Cooks will salivate over the 200 recipes that honor and celebrate everything New Orleans.

Chef Susan Spicer of Bayona will be on hand at the Bookshop November 9th at 6:00 PM, to discuss Daniel Boulod's Letters to a Young Chef. Like all Cookbook Club meetings, this event will be held pot-luck style: that means good food, good conversation, and a fascinating discussion on the ins and outs of the restaurant industry. Don't miss it. 

Sara Roahen Discusses Gumbo Tales at the Garden District Book Shop

Sara Roahen Speaks at Garden District Book Shop


 Garden District Bookshop owner Britton Trice introduces Sara Roahen.

"Gumbo Tales" author Sara Roahen spoke to the Book Shop's Cookbook Club Monday, discussing her book and the pleasures of the New Orleans table. "Gumbo Tales" is the subject of this years One Book New Orleans program, and the book's journey through a host of the Crescent City's favorite dishes is a real delight to read. Roahen brings alive the characters and flavors that define the way New Orleans eats, from artisan snowball makers to the folks who run Liuzza's at the Track to Miss Lovie's seafood gumbo. Scrupulously researched and vividly written, Gumbo Tales is an unmissable read for anyone interested in the history and the stories behind our city's cuisine.

A podcast of the discussion at the Cookbook Club may be downloaded here.



The Garden District Book Shop Cookbook Club is all about food, and participants brought a host of delicious treats to share. One Book New Orleans representatives provided an entire turducken and oyster dressing from Langensteins, as well as a big plater of home-made Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches.


The turducken prior to carving.

Yes, folks, that's what a turducken looks like. It's a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a hen. With stuffing in it. Chef Paul Prudhomme, never one to shy from decadence, is said to have invented these beasts not too long ago, and they've been popular ever since. Some gourmets revile the mighty Turducken as too over the top, a heinous display of unbridled decadence, but I gotta say, the flavor was just plain delicious. Just don't think about the entire process too much.


Carving the mighty turducken.

Sara Roahen's adventure in turducken making can be read at the Gambit's website. I quote: " The turducken offers no excuses. A deboned, stuffed chicken enfolded in a deboned, stuffed duck sewn into a deboned, stuffed turkey, roasted together for a quarter of a day and wetted with duck fat gravy -- what could it possibly say in its own defense?"



The pork banh-mi were delicious as well, with fresh French bread, crunchy Vietnamese daikon and carrot slaw, mayonaisse, and lemongrass pork. Banh mi derive from Vietnam's French colonial years, and are derived from the French countryside "salad sandwich". They've become increasingly popular around the USA and are available in many venues in New Orleans: lemongrass chicken, pate, Vietnamese meatballs, tofu, and other protein sources form common filling.

Roahen wrote about Vietnamese food's impact on the local cuisine in "Gumbo Tales" - during the bookclub discussion, that section of the book prompted a hilarious discussion about the consumption of fertilized duck eggs (balut), which are considered a nice special-occasion food in Southeast Asia. Don't click on that Wikipedia link if you're eating something.

Banh mi are often referred to as "Vietnamese po-boy's" on local menus. I can see it.

For dessert, we had made-to-order snoballs, provided by William's Plum Street Snoballs, complete with all those esoteric cream flavors we love so well.





These folks are the official snoball suppliers at Jazzfest, in case you were wondering where the heck you'd seen them before. They were just the refreshing thing after a big ol' slab of turducken.



Snoball making in action. The portable snoball machine is a pretty handy piece of machinery.



We also had Langenstein's oyster dressing....



Miniature pies from the Real Pie Man, alongside some other treats....



Crawfish corn bread....



A home-made chess pie....



Marinated shrimp....



7 layer dip.....



And a host of other dishes, including some grade-A red beans and rice.

The Cookbook Club meeting and Sara Roahen's talk proved to be a big success, combining gastronomical pleasure and an illuminating discussion of the art of food writing. Next meeting is November 9th. Now you know why you should turn out.

One Book New Orleans will be conducting a variety of events revolving around "Gumbo Tales" this fall: check out the schedule on their website.