Luke New Orleans: Mmm, Oyster Salad

Luke Restaurant
333 St Charles Ave
New Orleans, LA 70130
(504) 378-2840


I would like to draw your attention to the tastiest dish at New Orleans' Luke restaurant, celebrity chef John Besh's stab at a French lunch joint. Luke is a good restaurant, the kind of place me and my friends go to a lot out of force of habit - Besh with somewhat reasonable prices, and a nice, rather roaring-twenties atmosphere. (They do serve wine in glasses. I don't approve).



The best thing on the menu if you're going around asking me (you fool) is the fried oyster salad with bacon and avocado. Something about the synthesis of flavors is absolutely perfect, combining three of my favorite foodstuffs in the world into one single, delicious dish. Do not fail to order this. With a cup of (dark, rouxy) gumbo, you won't break the bank and have a very tasty meal.



They also have really good, double-fried fries (frites, whatever) which are served in a paper cup so you know they're fancy. But they are indeed delicious, possibly the best in town, and complement well with the enormous Luke burger. They serve it on a wood block.

Luke is populated mostly by business people doing deals and people staying at the Hilton it's inside of. Service can be hit or miss - our most recent visit was rather slow, and the AC, like many New Orleans ACs, seemed to be intent on killing us. But that's the nature of the beast. Go and eat that salad.

Dickie Brennan's Bourbon House: Half-Shells Without the Grime?

Dickie Brennan's Bourbon House
144 Bourbon Street
New Orleans, LA 70130
(504) 522-0111

Dickie Brennan's Bourbon House is located in the oyster bar gulch at the confluence of Bourbon and Iberville, next door to Acme and across the street from Felix's. The Bourbon House, a part of the commodious Brennan's restaurant empire, seems to see its niche as the upscale alternative to the two stalwarts, boasting a fancily designed dining room, an impressive selection of bourbons (no kiddin') and perkier service then is commonly encountered at the other two joints. Basically, this is the oyster place you bring your boss or your uppity in-laws too. This is in itself a service. Us trashy college kids really enjoy wandering by the giant picture windows out onto Bourbon Street while carrying bottle s of trash vodka bigger then our heads, but sometimes we eat here too. When our parents are in town.

The menu offers refined variants on typical New Orleans oyster bar food: you've got your shrimp Creole, your turtle soup and seafood gumbo, and your fried seafood platters, offered alongside non-oyster related raw bar offerings (excuse me, Le Grand Plateaux De Fruits De Mer, you know what I'm talkin' about), steaks, and some interesting appetizers. (Including hummus. At a New Orleans oyster bar. Sort of freaking me out). There always seems to be specials stalking the perimeter here. The frozen Bourbon Milk Punch is absolutely delicious and absolutely bad for you, just like everything else in this evil, hateful city.



We began with the Oysters Rockefeller, Bienville, and Fonseca, three of my favorite old-hat NOLA specialities. These were really pretty superb, and definitely superior to the versions I've tried at Antoines and Felix's. The Rockefellers are of course the classic and were very good, with a rich spinach and cheese topping with just a bit of anise-y flavor. The Bienvilles and Fonsecas were also good, though the flavors were pretty much "cheesy meaty stuff on top of an oyster." Not actually a bad thing.



We also got some raws on the half-shell. Tasty little bastards. Don't get me started on the gulf oil spill or there will be even more swearing then usual on this blog.



I had the seafood gumbo, which I've had here before and enjoyed. It's a good, if not stand-out gumbo, with a fairly dark roux and a smooth, gentle texture. The addition of oysters is paramount here and gives it some briny character. Definitely requires a substantial whomp of hot sauce.



For my main, I picked the startingly tasty Chop Salad Louis with grilled gulf shrimp and "Avery Island" dressing. (This means it done got Tabasco in it). A really fantastic dish: crisp romaine with big, sweet, head-on prawns and a bit of avocado to add a good dose of creaminess. Shelling the little beasts at the table was not entirely in keeping with the fancy interior here, but was definitely New Orleans like. If you don't eat the heads, you are foolish indeed.



My dad had a fried shrimp po-boy, which was quite nice: lightly fried shrimp and the requisite Leidenheimer bread. My aunt had the Shrimp Creole, which was all right - in a very chunky and very tomato-heavy sauce, with more of an Italian flavor then a distinctly New Orleans one. Then again, I agree with Tom Fitzmorris's belief that shrimp creole is never, ever all that good.



My cousin ordered the alligator burger, because she is very fond of alligators, even when this fondness extends to eating them. It tasted like ground alligator, which is to say like spiced and slightly fishy chicken, and was served with some fine sweet potato fries. I suppose if you're into that kind of thing. Unfortunately one does not become filled with the badass essence of gator after eating gator.

On the whole, the Bourbon House is a nice, upscale choice for oysters on the half shell and accompaniments on Bourbon's Oyster Gulch. Felix's is my pick for slamming down oysters and Jagermeister prior to wandering out into the night to do naughty things, but Bourbon House is where you go to have a civilized and tasty meal minus, say, annoyances such as drunken Florida State frat-boys in straw hats. Not to mention there's never any line, unlike at media-darling Acme Oyster House. Nice work, Brennans. Keep doing what you're doing.

Addendum: I also like the Bourbon House because I met one of its chefs on the streetcar a while back. I had run my bike into a swiftly-moving car the day prior and was experiencing some muscle pain: it was also 3:00 AM and I was feeling sort of pissed off about going out drinking instead of staying in bed and recovering, although of course this was all my fault. The chef and I discussed New Orleans bars, the magic of weird seafood dishes, and how awesome Spanish food was during the ride home: he also offered me a sorely needed Advil. Perhaps one should not take pain-killers from people you meet on the streetcar (maybe, quizas, maybe), but he sure was a nice guy. Thanks, guy!

Mandinas: Old School Creole Food, Epic Fried Oyster Salad

Mandinas
3800 Canal Street
New Orleans
(504) 482-9179

Mandinas is one of those New Orleans institutions, the sort of restaurant that has been around since roughly the dawn of time (well, 1932) and has cultivated an equally antique customer base. Serving Creole classics, Italian dishes, po-boys and steaks to an always-considerable crowd, it's difficult to believe that this stalwart was almost brought down by Hurricane Katrina. Believe it: the restaurant was flooded and nearly destroyed during Katrina, but the resilient Mandina family rebuilt, remodeled, and reopened in the original location on Canal Street. The menu and interior ambience were changed as little as humanly possible. This is a city that values old stuff.


My family and I headed to Mandinas right before Newcomb-Tulane's equally oldy moldy Under the Oaks Ceremony. I would, perhaps inadvisably, be receiving an award recognizing my Newcomb Grant last summer. There was no question of chowing down before hand. (I would later be the only person at the ceremony not wearing a cap and gown because no one had told me such was the dress code. But at least I had a swell lunch).



We began with the shrimp remoulade, which was a very generous serving of perfectly boiled shrimp in a thick, creamy, and just spicy enough sauce. Remoulade is one of those things that can be horrifyingly manhandled by lousy restaurants, but Mandinas demonstrates how to do it right: a nice interplay of tangy flavors in tandem with sweet shrimp meat. Aces.



Most of us had the gumbo. The gumbo, much to our surprise, tasted almost exactly like the Dupuy family recipe, right down to its appearance. I have to wonder if our family recipe and the Mandina family recipe perhaps hailed from the same source somewhere in the mists of time - both families were, after all, resident in New Orleans during the same era. Needless to say, I liked this light-colored tomato gumbo a whole lot: plenty of shrimp, plenty of okra, tomatoes, oysters, and sausage, without a ton of dark roux flavoring. Needed to be kicked in the ass a little bit with some Crystal, but this is also true of the almighty family recipe. Not everyone likes their mouth to burn when consuming gumbo. I do maintain that these people are wusses.



Miss Hilda's Salad is one of the restaurant's stalwart recipes, and the ginormous "side" salad didn't disappoint. It's basically a New Orleans chef salad with a couple kinds of cheese, anchovies, diced ham, turkey, and salami, egg, shrimp, and various herbs, served on a bed of greens. A gravy boat of dressing is provided on the side. Not sure I want to know what happens when you let them dress it. In any case, excellent and a nice fresh counterpart to the other menu options.



This fried oyster salad was slightly monolithic. The crisp, fresh fried oysters were very good specimens of the genre, and we enjoyed them. Except there were so many that we almost couldn't finish them, which is a remarkable and perhaps unheard of phenomena in this oyster obsessed family. I picked up the slack on the crispy bivalves of course, being a giving sort of gal. Call me the 102 Pound Garbage Disposal, and you'll pretty much be right on.

Mandinas is confident enough to shun credit and debit cards at the register. Bring cash.

Oyster Dressing: New Orleans Holiday Food, Frickin' Awesome

We love oyster dressing in our family. In fact, it's a bit of a pathology. A traditional New Orleans holiday dish, it's one of the things we have to have - otherwise family revolution may be instigated. The more oysters, the better. If people steal into the kitchen to jack a couple when no one is looking, well, that's part of the holidays.



OYSTER DRESSING
8-10 servings

White bread (4-5 toasted slices, night before)
One pan of cornbread (3 boxes of Jiffy)
One onion (big)
One green pepper
3/4 ribs of celery
Chicken stock
Fresh sage
Fresh thyme
Tablespoon of paprika
1/2 tablespoon of dry mustard
2-3 jars of oysters
Little bit of oyster liquor
Egg for binding (if you would like)

THE NIGHT BEFORE:

Make a pan of cornbread. The Jiffy mix is the best, unless you're one of those ambitious types who mix up in your own, in which case that is just super for you..Slice and toast your loaf of white bread the night before as well. You may use the cheap Sara Lee stuff or artisan French. I'm not convinced it makes a huge difference.

Saute the green pepper, onion, and celery, otherwise known as the Sacred Creole Trifecta Which Cannot Be Impeached. You want more onion then green pepper in the mix.

Crumble up the bread into a big mixing bowl, then add the sauteed vegetables. Mix it all up, depending on the level of chunkiness you prefer in your dressing.



Add the paprika, the dry mustard, the fresh herbs, and the egg. (The egg is not a requirement, in our family opinion, but use your own discretion.) If you have any poultry drippings on hand, they make a very nice addition. Add the oysters, along with a little bit of their liquor, along with a bit of chicken broth - enough to make it a little moist. Mix it up again.

Get a greased lasagna pan, then put the mixture inside of it. Smooth out with a spatula or a spoon.

Cook for about 20-30 minutes or so at 350 degrees, or until brown, crusty, and delicious. Superb with roasted poultry, cranberry sauce, and large quantities of good champagne.

casamentos: fried seafood perfection

Casamentos
4330 Magazine St.
New Orleans, Louisiana 70115
504-895-9761



Oysters are everything in this town, and Casamento's happens to be an insution. Super clean and highly hygenic inside (it puts me in mind of an easy clean icebox), this restaurant nevertheless serves up highly evolved seafood. Staffed by a variety of New Orleans Characters (including, according to a friend of mine, a good looking pair of twins who insist they are not identical,) Casamento's is a damn fine place to have in the neighborhood.

The menu is classic and does not change with the times, although it may change with the seasons: raw oysters and fried seafood are your options, although gumbo, oyster stew, and an incongruous spaghetti and meatballs lurk on the menu as well. This is an old school place: it shuts down during the summer when the oysters ain't good. To reach the bathrooms, you must walk through the kitchen and past the deep friers to the back area, which is populated by a couple of friendly cats. That's the kind of place this is.



Of course you must begin with oysters: oysters are why Casamento's exists, sourcing fresh and saline-packed lil' beauties once the season begins to roll in. We plowed merrily through three dozen and I wanted more. They are extra delicious when consumed on a saltine cracker with tons of spicy as hell cocktail sauce.



These crab claws are just sublime. For some reason, they remind me of my dad's fried grouper, which fills me with warm fuzzy memories and also happens to be delicious. Casamento's has an amazingly light hand with the frier and these guys preserve their succulent, delicate sweetness.



Calamari was only okay here: good fry job but sad little squid bits. They need to use meatier rings and tentacle bits if they want to knock this out of the park.



A fine cup of gumbo: rich and seafood infused and containing plenty of okra and no goddamn sausage. Maybe I'm biased due to my upbringing but I just don't like sausage in my gumbo but I DO require okra. I also detected oysters which I deeply appreciated. Extra swell with lots of hot sauce. I mean lots.

I also tried some truly sublime fried shrimp - like eating lemony seafood flavored air lord have mercy - and some nice, lightly fried trout. Needless to say I am very pleased that I live within spitting distance of this place. Not literally.

Felix's Oyster Bar: Bivalves And Abita Sustain The Soul Once Again

Felix's Oyster House
739 Iberville St
New Orleans, LA 70130
(504) 522-4440



Felix's is one of the standby oyster joints off Bourbon Street, prone to filling up at all hours with people who want nothing more then to slam Abita beer and eat startling quantities of oysters. In these two respects, Felix's has got things under control.

Oysters are a holy food in New Orleans and must always be consumed with beer, saltines and mix it yerself cocktail sauce - the holy trinity of shellfish consumption. Oyster bars are about as New Orleans as it gets, attracting a cross-section of people from all over the place who enjoy the funky little guys whenever they get their drink on (and in New Orleans, everyone is always getting their drink on.) According to traditionalists, oysters are only consumable in months with an R in them and are DEADLY FOUNTS OF DESPAIR when consumed otherwise, but I had oysters in August and they were quite tasty and did not even kill me. And the head waiter at Luke said they were quite good. So get over it.

Felix's, much like Acme, employs a full time oyster shucker who will flip those puppies open upon request and slide them to you over the bar - usually as fast as you can eat them. Extra points are awarded if there is a Saint's game on. We enjoyed slurping them down in between gulps of beer, watching the usual Bourbon Street zoo parade past the windows. I also enjoyed creating my own cocktail sauce in various intensities and lemon concentrations, which is definitely side entertainment if you're into cooking.



Felix's also serves up decent Oysters Rockefeller, that spinach and butter and god knows what else concotion pioneered by Antoines millions of years ago. I love those little guys and will happily eat many of them.



Unlike Acme, Felix's non-oyster related food is only okay. The boiled shrimp were edible but 1. served cold (they are mo' betta' warm) and 2. way too small. We were perhaps a spot drunk and decided to try the fried alligator, which was a lousy idea: tiny greasy pieces of reptile are not something I enjoy eating. (Alligator admittedly never really rises above the flavor of chewy, fishy chicken, but still.)

Felix's is a good spot to get your oysters and beer fix in less-wacko environs then Acme, but do yourself a favor and stick to the slimy little suckers.