Antoines: Oysters Rockfeller And Why We Should All Love This City

Antoines



New Orleans is the home of a coven of grande old Creole restaurants - instiutions that pioneered the rich and soulful and intrinsically good cuisine that defines New Orleans. They were created a very long time ago and have ridden out hurricanes, the Great Depression, World War II, and a staggering decline in the taste and sensibilities of the American people, and I hope to God they last a long time more.

Antoines is a charter member of this group, a 150 year old Dining Room, where one Antoine Alciatore, smacked around a bit by New York city, decided to take his culinary expertise on the road to New Orleans. The restaurant became a hit, and it's been serving up butter-heavy Creole food to many a happy customer ever since. Oysters Rockefeller - those delicious spinachy suckers that have circulated across the country - originated in Antoine's kitchen, along with pommes de terre souffles, a New Orleans centric type of air-filled fried potato. Antoines also happens to be a hangout for four Mardi Gras carnival krewes - Rex, Proteous, Hermes, and the 12th Night Revelers, who traditionally come here to get properly fed and schnockered in the process. (They are not shy about booze in these parts: Antoine's was dishing out the good stuff in coffee cups round' the back during Prohibition.)

With so much history and tradition behind it, it's kind of hard to review a place like this. Complicating and enhancing matters, my dad is friends with Johnny Mencina, a long-time server here who is exceedingly fine at his job. He took care of us all night long, bringing that kind of refined-but-friendly service N'awlins can pull off like nowhere else. So how the hell can I be objective?

Well, I'll try.

The (back) dining room we sat at has a powerful patina of history, covered in gently moldering pictures and autographs of celebrities whose names I shall never get around to looking up. Truly old school restaurants have fallen by the wayside in this country, and it's a departure for this California transplant to see everyone scurrying about in white-tie. A pleasing one.

We began with those famous potato souffles - fried twice to create a curiously puffy texture, almost like an exceedingly expensive Muncho. These were tasty enough, although I wish they had been a bit hotter and more ethereal. Admittedly, I am not subject to the smoky charms of the potato as some among us are.



We are gumbo afficinados in this family, gumbo worshippers, so my father and I regarded our cups of gumbo with the usual suspicion. Not to be disappointed: Antoine's dirty-rich and file thick gumbo is as good as I've had beside my own grandmother's kitchen. This is the good junk you can stick a spoon up in, full of all sorts of tasty sea critters and sausage and Lord knows what else. (I dearly hope the foofoo contingent will not discover gumbo and turn it into a contempo foam ridden abomination before God, oh please please.)




And next came another life-long love of mine: baked oysters. Johnny advised us to go with a sampler, and so we did. Counterclockwise:

Huitres Thermidor , Fresh Louisiana oysters baked on the half shell with a bacon and tomato sauce. These were tangy and delicious, as the combination of oyster, tomato and bacon is always superb and worthy of study by scientific outlets possibly to cure longstanding depression or malaise.

Huitres Bienville, Oyster baked on the half shell with a white wine sauce seasoned with onions, pimento, and fresh peppers. These were of course tasty, with that lovely butter flavor in the back, but not quite as good as the other two.

Huitres en coquille a la Rockefeller (notre creation), Oysters baked on the half shell with the original Rockefeller sauce created by Antoine's in 1889.
The recipe for these iconic bivalves is guarded with (someone's) life, but I know it involves spinach, bread crumbs, a touch of anise and of course a lot of butter. I like these very much.



We moved on (as we must). I am a soft-shell crab freak - something about being able to completely consume these briny little gifts from Jesus Christ and Mary themselves fascinates me. Therefore, I selected the Crabes mous amandine, soft shell crabs fried in a light batter with hot melted butter and toasted sliced almonds. My dad, meanwhile, swears by the Filet de truite Pontchartrain, grilled trout with lump crabmeat sautéed in butter. Johnny was kind enough to let us do a little sampler platter as you may view above. The crab was truly lovely, fried ethereally and topped with a butter, almondy sauce that would be considered grounds for lawsuit in my health-obsessed home of California. The trout was lovely as well: fresh trout, panfried to a careful crisp, served with sweet and plentiful crabmeat chunks. This is why people have been drooling over NOLA seafood for a long time, folks. (And you want us all to disappear into the waters, as if you think you'd ever be able to eat this stuff again!)

We also shared a side of Epinards sauce crème or spinach in a light cream sauce, which was rich and delish as you may imagine. I know you may be startled, but there was butter in it.

My dad is passionate about bread pudding and is rarely in a position where he may eat it: therefore, we ordered the Le pudding de pain de noix de pecan, a cinnamon and raisin pudding topped with a rum sauce. This is another classic New Orleans dessert, possibly because it contains both butter and booze, the two substances this city runs on. It was of course delicious.

I'll admit it: Antoine's doesn't turn out the kind of firecracker smack yo' mama cuisine that a place like August does. The food is tasty, sophisticated, and well-presented, but it is not startling or surprising. But I believe it does not need to be. Antoine's is rooted in the past, continuing on a course set in 1840 - and a damn fine thing it is doing too, preserving the food techniques and the delicious dishes my ancestors were dining on, back in the day. We need restaurants like Antoines, and we need to hold onto them, visit them: they are preserving a part of our heritage that could very well be buried under Burger King emporiums and deconstructed molecular cuisine, a form of eating that defined sophistication in the good old days and still holds claim to it in the present. If you're in New Orleans, do yourself a favor and make it out to Antoine's - this is a great way to taste and experience what this beautiful, nasty, melee of a city is all about.

(And dress nice, you coastal bums!)

Bouchon Bistro

Bouchon Bistro
6534 Washington St,
Yountville, CA 94599


Thomas Keller is America's reigning culinary deity - the creator of Yountville's French Laundry, widely hailed as the country's best restaurant. The mighty French Laundry itself isn't exactly accessible to the common man: prix fixe menus start at 210 dollars and reservations are only obtainable by, say, selling your soul. (Presumably to Keller.)

There is an option for the (relatively) poorer among us: Bouchon, Keller's casual Yountville bistro. Featuring classic French fare served in a noisy and laid back setting, it's Keller's kickback joint, the kind of place where rich people trying to Lay Low hang out in t-shirts over wine and oysters. This does not mean you will get a break on prices, mind you, but you will feel more like the kind of robust French countryman who just happens to be able to drop 32 bucks on a lunch entree. Because you are Earthy.

Bouchon's dining room has a nice, slightly ornate look to it, but the tables are very close together, creating a very present danger of elbowing the people next to you if you make any quick movements. As my mother commented, we live in America: we have the ability to build restaurants big enough to allow people to eat without invading each others personal space. If they're really going for authenticity, they need to pipe in some body odor, issue cigarettes to all customers, and install a bidet, and I don't see them doing any of that.

Our friendly server was able to seat us ahead of our reservation. Menus are rather cute and come wrapped around the silverware. Specials are listed on a big blackboard, and change every day dependent on what's fresh. (This is totally a rule in Northern California.)

The menu focuses on good French home cookin' - none of the super contemporary touches Keller plays with in his flagship restaurant, but lots of hearty, classic flavors. I am not well versed in French cuisine and was happy to get a chance to try the real deal.



We began with appetizers. I chose the Canard salee et Confit ($14.50), composed of cured duck breast and leg confit, on a bed of frisee, pickled turnips, poached cherries, and spiced honey vinaigrette. This really was a beautiful dish: the combination of meaty, rare duck breast, fatty and decadent confit, and tiny, salt fried duck skin strips was perfect, and I deeply enjoyed the wine-infused cherries that accompanied the meat. The honey vinaigrette was also masterfully subdued and lovely, not too sweet or cloying: I want the recipe. It is always nice to have a duck dish that does not overwhelm with fat and grease, and this is it: understated, sophisticated, good.



We are a family of leek aficionados, so my mom chose the Salade de Poirexau ($12.50), composed of grilled leeks, new potatoes, haricots verts, spring onions, and a lentil vinaigrette. This was also excellent: fresh leeks provided an earthy, garlicky juxtaposition to the brilliant green haricots verts and onions. The lentil vinaigrette was especially interesting: the lentils provided an interesting texture difference. It's a nice, fairly simple dish, and a refreshing way to begin a meal.



I decided to go all light on this business and went with the Salade de Carpaccio Fume ($13.50) - smoked beef carpaccio with tomtato confit, celery branch, and green olive bread spread with creamy horseradish. This was quite nice though not as substantial as I'd been hoping (and I wish there was more tomato confit.) Still, it was beautifully presented and the super-fresh beef had a nice meaty flavor.



I also ordered the Ratatouille ($6.50) as a side dish, and NOT BECAUSE I ENJOY MOVIES ABOUT ANIMATED RATS. This was very tasty - probably because there sure was a lot of oil in it. Now, it tasted delicious and I ate all of it, but I felt a bit queasy afterwards...not that I regretted it. They could tone down the oil, but then again, it might not taste so good. I hate these kind of tradeoffs.

There's a dessert menu, but most people head next door to the equally famous Bouchon Bakery - which is exactly what we did. It's a tiny little place full of European tourists, but it certainly turns out good and classic French pastries. I had a tasty, super fresh fruit tart - light and airy, with a nice buttery crust. We also tried a raspberry macaroon, which was really quite delish: intense raspberry flavored cream, squishy yet crunchy cookie - just the perfect sort of sandwich cookie. Keller also makes upmarket Oreos with chocolate sable cookies, sold at the bakery. Well, next time. (I maintain Oreos don't actually taste like anything so the only way to go is up.)


Special note: Presentation of dishes is just beautiful at Bouchon. Somehow the colors and shapes combine to create appetizing, rustic compositions that would be worthy of any food porn magazine. It's food that is pretty but not too pretty to eat, which I find to be a terribly important distinction.

Conclusion: Bouchon is turning out excellent, detailed, and lovingly created renditions of French bistro food. Is anything innovative going on here? No - this is not food that will blow you away or make you think. But it is simple and soul-sustaining food taken to a superlative level of quality and freshness, and that in and of itself is worthy of praise. Bouchon is an excellent choice for rustic French food - what you see is exactly what you get.