Hot Gratuitous Bacon Action

Just when I thought I couldn't love Chef DeBarr of the Green Goddess any more (check out my review here) he brought this into my life.

The Green Goddess “Notorious” Bacon Sundae: Pecan praline ice cream with a creamy bacon caramel sauce carrying a bit of both Pink Himalayan & Black Lava Salts, & micro-planed Nueske’s Applewood Bacon.

Fievel likes it, too.

I'm Officially a New Orleanian, thanks to Chrissy Gemmill and Etsy

Hello and Happy Spring! I hate to say that the blogging will be a little light through the month of April--Mr. Luz and I have 3 weddings (one in D.C., one in New Orleans, one in St. Louis) in the next 5 weeks--but who wants to cook right now, anyway? I'm living off a diet of takeout, beer, and sunshine until I get my fill of all 3 and only then will I go back to my tiny kitchen.  In the meantime, guess what? More non-food related posts! Just be happy that I'm not detailing the ever-downward spiral of my Lady Gaga obsession. (Anyone in the market for a custom-made Gaga lavender blonde/yellow/platinum wig? Visit my Ebay shop. I wish I was kidding.)

Unlike alot of my posts, this is about someone else's passion.  I found Chrissy Gemmill while Christmas shopping on Etsy.com (a crazy awesome site where talented people sell their handmade artistry to lucky people like you and me) last year.  Her inspired and edgy-yet-elegant metal-work creates jewelry that, for lack of a better descriptor, gets taken seriously. WTF does that mean, right? I mean that her jewelry gets noticed, not because it's frivolous or flashy but because it's unique, boldly expressive, and beautiful.  In sum, I'm a big fan.

And maybe you heard that the Saints won the Superbowl.  For me, that moment cemented the rebirth of New Orleans in a mixture of tears, confetti, and hardships packed down by thousands of dancing, jumping, joyous feet, and so I started looking for a keepsake that would represent all that crying, stomping, and celebrating every time I looked at it. I started looking for my fleur de lys.  If you've spent much time in New Orleans, you know that it's the only place where it's cool--actually, where it's required of you--to proudly sport any and all logos, symbols, colors, whatever, associated with the city.  It doesn't even matter if you get your New Orleans t-shirts at a tourist shop. 

So it's about time that I got my "signature" fleur de lys.  I didn't want one that would be mass produced and, while beautiful, generic. I didn't want one that would be perfect, and polite because New Orleans is neither of those things.  And so I asked Chrissy Gemmill to do her unique, expressive, inspired magic for me.  And though it's probably impossible to be happy doing custom jewelry pieces when you are an artist with your own vision, Chrissy agreed and was great to work with. (Thankyouthankyouthankyouthank you, Chrissy!!) 

Coincidentally, I was boarding a plane to NOLA when she emailed me these photos of my necklace, and it wasn't 100% the airport bloody marys that made me a little teary when I saw them.  Chrissy hand cut/hammered the pendant pieces, and incorporated the team's colors in the black patina on the fleur de lys and in the vintage brass chain.  Then she threw in her signature chainmail element to amp up the gothic New Orleans theme while keeping it elegant. 

Thanks to Chrissy, I finally have my own fleur de ly and it's 100% me while also being 100% New Orleans. And when I'm not wearing it, my big blue plastic shark from Lucy's Retired Surfer's Bar on Tchop. Street in NOLA proudly sports it on my dresser. I have to say, it looks pretty cool on both of us.

Chrissy Gemmill teaches jewelry-making classes in Frederick, MD (not too far outside of D.C. and worth the trip) and you can purchase some of her pieces at The Muse in Downtown Frederick.  You can also buy her pieces at her Etsy store, available here, and check out her latest projects on her blog, Chrissy Gemmill Jewels.  

NOTE: Anyone who would like to bestow a gift on me at any time--and feel free to do so--I'd gladly accept a Chrissy Gemmill Skeleton Key Bracelet. Please and thank you.

Saints are World Champs!! And New Orleans Style BBQ Shrimp Recipe

Hey, guess what? THE NEW ORLEANS SAINTS ARE WORLD CHAMPIONS!!!!!!

Mama and Papa BaCon flew from St. Louis to get snowed in and watch Superbowl XLIV with us, Foxy, and some crazy, lovely D.C. folks. Black and Gold beads, the dark smell of gumbo, and friends in Saints gear filled our house while "Superbowl Mambo" streamed from the Times Picayune website, and it felt like a true N'awlins romp. To everyone who came out for the party and to those who couldn't come due to the storm/work but who were there in spirit (JKarlin, we missed you!): because of you guys, Mr. Luz and I didn't miss home when we could have missed it the most. So thanks for being there with us.

As far as the game goes, I couldn't tell you what actually happened because I was too amped up to think. All I know is the K. Gates song "Stand Up and Get Crunk/Black and Gold to the Superbowl" kept blaring on our speakers, Mr. Luz kept doing his own secondline dance through the crowd in the living room and dining room to the kitchen and back again, and I got and gave alot of "touchdown hugs."

But there was a moment towards the end of the game when I checked the clock and saw that there were only 44 seconds left in the 4th quarter, and then it hit me full force--"Holy S*** this changes everything-how fantastic for NOLA!" and then "Is this really happening??"  When I came to my senses after a few minutes, there weren't 25 different people, with different hometowns and even hometown teams, at our house . . . I only saw Saints fans, overcome with collective joy-shouting, hugging, crying, and all out getting crunk (look it up).

What a surprisingly blissful and unpredictably beautiful life we live.  

On to the recipe! This is Mama Bacon's recipe from Southern Living for New Orleans BBQ Shrimp, and it's one of my favorite foods, though surprisingly easy. You can serve it as an appetizer by itself, or as an entree over cheese grits.  The shrimp is marinated (in Nawlin's they do shells and head on, but peeled is okay too)and then baked in a spicy, tangy lemon butter sauce with a little Worcestershire sauce for depth and garlic. We double the marinade recipe so we have plenty left over for French bread-dipping. Only make this for the people you really love, because they'll likely request it at every pot luck you attend from now till the end of time.  Though if they are anything like my friends, they are worth it.

New Orleans Style BBQ Shrimp Recipe

(photo and recipe courtesy of Southern Living)

4 lbs. large unpeeled shrimp (6 lbs. w/heads on)
1 cup Butter
1 cup Olive oil
1/2 cup Chili Sauce
1/2 cup Worcestershire Sauce
2 Lemons, sliced
8 Garlic Cloves, chopped
4 Tbs. Creole Seasoning (I use Tony's Light)
4 Tbs. Lemon Juice
2 Tbs. chopped Parsley
2 tsp. Paprika
2 tsp. Oregano
2 tsp. ground Red Pepper
1 tsp. hot sauce
2 loaves French bread



Spread shrimp in a large baking dish.  Combine butter and next 12 ingredients in a saucepan over low heat, stirring until butter melts, and pour over shrimp. Cover and chill 2 hours, turning shrimp every 30 minutes.

Bake, uncovered, at 400° for 20 minutes; turn once. Serve with bread and/or grits.

And then, there was great joy.

I can't stop watching this, and I can't stop crying. The people of New Orleans are rare.  They have the fortitude to make it through the hard, heartbreaking times and the spirit to anticipate the joyful times that make it all worthwhile.  It's not about Katrina, it's about unabashed hope in spite of endless disappointment. It's always been that way in NOLA, and here is their great reward. Congratulations, New Orleans--the Black and Gold are going to the Superbowl!

Louisiana in Two Parts: What's Happiness All About?

Two conclusions from recent studies strike me as...well...interesting.

Conclusion #1: Louisiana ranks as the worst state in the U.S. for overall quality of life.
Conclusion #2: Louisiana ranks as the "Happiest State" in the U.S.

Methodology aside, both conclusions have merit. Louisiana is a corrupt state, sometimes unabashedly and unapologetically so. That leads to insufficient infrastructure--poor schools, a lack of funds for important government programs as money gets shoveled to cronies and cousins rather than to the public where it belongs, and businesses left to fend for themselves in a state with few exports. People talk trash about New Orleans, but the corruption is everywhere. Just do a quick google search of the scandals surrounding the Louisiana Public Service Commission, and you'll see that in Baton Rouge "who you know" means so much more than "what you know."

But Louisiana is also a state where people have fought to maintain a highly satisfying way of life that's counter to the fast-paced, million-dollar-paycheck culture we've come to accept in the rest of the U.S. In Louisiana, food, family, and community are generally prioritized over money and prestige (unless you're in govt., of course). People look out for and genuinely enjoy one another, and the hours are marked by Abita beers consumed, stories told, and the number of friends who stop by. It's a place where you're well-regarded so long as you're just being yourself--the local heroes are the folks who are the kookiest and also the most comfortable with their eccentricities. (See Granny Cart Lady to the left. She attended Tulane classes...and got kicked out of Tulane classes...on and off and would show up at many a Mardi Gras parade. R.I.P. GCL)

It's impossible to be alone in New Orleans...even and especially after a Category 5 hurricane comes knocking down your door. Everyone is your friend, and every day is a special occasion to be celebrated.

I can come up with a handful of hypothesis that explain these seemingly incongruous conclusions, but each of them would oversimplify the deep memory and collective soul of a place as diverse and storied as New Orleans. Instead, I'll just think about the following: Residents of New Orleans and the inhabitants of Louisiana in general largely came to the state with their own unique culture and history, and settled there as a place of last resort. Over time they have struggled together to thrive, rather than just survive, in an inhospitable place prone to swampy conditions, hurricanes, and the rampant abuses of the oldest Good Ole' Boy network in the U.S. And together, they have come to conclude--among many, many other things--that every day is a gift to be shared with loved ones and enjoyed, rather than wasted on 15-hour work days and superficial pursuits. They have created their own happiness out dire circumstances. In sum, we could all learn something about happiness from the bunch of drunken, garrulous 'yats that I'm proud to call my own.

Good Eats St. Louis: Annie Gunn's Restaurant

No trip to St. Louis, Missouri--my original hometown--is complete without a trip to Annie Gunn's Restaurant.

Annie's promoted sustainable, artisanal, locally-sourced ingredients before such things became de rigueur in fine dining. And to list a few of its many distinctions, Annie's has been recognized as one of the Distinguished Restaurants of North America (DIRONA), and Chef Lou Rook III was a recent semifinalist for the James Beard Award for Best Chef, Midwest. Glenn Bardgett's wine list consistently wins the Wine Spectator "Best Of" Award of Excellence in addition to other prestigious awards, and reads like a bacchanalian, lyrical love poem to some of the best wines in the world. (ie: "Etude 2006 Carneros ~ An old favorite never fails to excite, always a benchmark of Carneros")

But above all, to me, Annie Gunn's means family. Although I only worked at Annie's for 2 years, it's like no time has passed when I go back. I'm always greeted with happy hugs, warm smiles, updates about children and now grandchildren (!), and it is a loving and wonderful homecoming. The most significant and unexpected of these homecomings happened in September, 2005. Just one month after I left Annie's and moved to New Orleans for law school, Hurricane Katrina sent me back home with nothing but my dog, a few law books, and 3 changes of clothes. Annie's took me back with open and friendly arms. Co-workers donated uniforms, shoes, and clothes, and I was immediately back on the schedule. For several months, I was panicked, and grief-stricken for everyone and everything that we lost in the floods after the storm, but I was never alone--my Annie's family made sure of that.

Annie's is an amazing family because the people who work there--many of whom have been there for more than a decade--share a real compassion for one another that can handle any crisis. (Something that I will always be thankful for.)

And Annie's is an amazing restaurant because its staff shares a collective passion for fine dining with its guests day in and day out. Obviously I can't write a real review--it would be like trying to critique Mama BaCon's jambalaya recipe--but here are some photos from my latest trip to Annie's. Like my most recent visit, here's hoping that my Annie's homecomings from now on are merely sweet, and always familiar. And if you, dear reader, get to visit any time soon, I hope you are able to recognize that Annie's is much, much more than just a restaurant. And the maple glazed smoked shrimp are not to be missed.

(If you guys end up reading this Glenn, Lesley, Pappa & Claire, and Chef Lou--I miss you guys all the time. You'll never know how much you mean to me, but maybe this helps? I love you!)

Herb Crusted Missouri Goatsbeard Farm Goat Cheese with Local Arugula, Oil-cured olives, Alici and Local Plum Compote and Lamb Bacon

Daily Lunch Special of Sauteed Gulf Shrimp in an Herb Heirloom Tomato Broth and Crispy Risotto Cakes

Grilled Medallion of Beef Tenderloin and Sauteed Hudson Valley Foie Gras with a Schlafly Pale Ale Tamarind Caramel Glaze and Whipped Yukon Gold Potatoes

(aka "Foie Gras As Big As Yer Head")

Missing NOLA Every Day: Mardi Bike and Plum Street Snowballs

I'm back from Camp Energy Nerd, and now I'm gearing up to host a birthday soiree for the magnificent Liza Jane. Said soiree will require at least 2 lbs. of Ghiardelli chocolate, 5 lbs. of various cheeses, and oodles of champagne, and yes you can come if you dress up and bring her presents.

With all the excitement, I'm on track to miss my semi-annual New Orleans visit. DC crushes my soul, so I promised myself that I would visit NOLA every six months to carry the sights, sounds, and feel of my flipflops on the old, gnarled sidewalk back with me. I can't make it back until February, so until then I will stalk my steamy, swampy lover via Google Images (Google is pretty fantastic for stalking, in general. I highly recommend it.) Right now I'm missing Plum Street, where I used to live, and it's neighborhood snowball shop.

Plum Street Snowballs serves soft, snowy shaved ice doused with dozens of flavored syrups "by the pail," and days where the owners didn't have a softball game, or a bar mitzvah, or something else keeping them from opening up shop, there will be a line around the corner and a crowd of people sitting on the sidewalk, enjoying their snowballs.

Mr. Luz and I heavily relied on Plum Street Snowballs to get us through bar studying, and we'd scrounge for change in the cushions and pay in dimes if we had to. If you went to Plum Street Snowballs on a quieter afternoon, you'd find yourself in a sunny, verdant neighborhood alongside a sleepy "mardi bike," and some lovely, friendly, genuinely happy folks. I really can't wait to go back.
The scene behind this photo was the scene I walked past every day during my last year in NOLA. God I miss those beat up sidewalks.

Photo Credits:
Photo 1--Jason Perlow on eGullet
Photo 2--from Gwen's Flickr account
Photo 3--by Infrogmation of WikiMedia

Acadiana: D.C. Does Louisiana Cuisine with Passion and Elegance

I recently had the opportunity to dine at Acadiana, a D.C. restaurant that prides itself in "capturing the true spirit of Louisiana, a serendipitous blend of Old World traditions and New World resources" with 5 other D.C. foodbloggers.

To me, D.C. is better known for its behind-the-scenes politics than its restaurant scene. (I'd frankly refer to the attitude at many D.C. restaurants as "brazenly half-assed.") Thankfully, Acadiana exuberantly breaks that mold by putting flavorful food, interesting cocktails, and plush ambiance center stage. The restaurant clearly began with passion and vision and grew to what it is today through near-perfect execution; as a result, our dining experience was elegantly decadent with touches of the brash pride and unique ingredients associated with Louisiana cooking.

Acadiana's dining room (pictured to the right) has a clean art nouveau style that is classic and modern all at once. The decorative, highly stylized chandeliers, furnishings, and fabrics are instantly attractive without overwhelming the space. It was beautiful, and so comfortable that we managed to dine for over 3 hours without noticing how much time had passed in the presence of new friends and good food.

And when compared with the modernized ambiance, Acadiana's Specialty Cocktail list--another standout of the night--was so traditional that you could almost see the hurricane shutters and smell the brackish, humid air as you sipped your Sazerac (prepared with absinthe liquor, bitters, and rye whiskey) or your Pimm's Cup (with Pimm's-a gin-based liquor, citrus soda, and a cucumber garnish).

I started with an Abita Strawberry beer, made with Louisiana strawberries just outside of New Orleans and available only through mid-June. As we contemplated dinner, our server brought us a basket of buttermilk biscuits with a creole cream cheese and pepper jelly spread. The creole cream cheese was light, and tangy with just the right touch of spicy sweetness from the pepper jelly. And my biscuit was dense and buttery, but not flaky. In the South, I expect my biscuits to be so flaky and messy that it's almost embarrassing to eat them in the midst of strangers. And though Acadiana offers a more refined approach to traditional Louisiana food and I understand the more general appeal of its dishes, I personally would choose a bad ole' sinful biscuit over a well-behaved one any day.

Because my biscuit left me craving more of the deep South, I ordered an entire meal of dark, rich soups made with fresh Louisiana ingredients. My guests and I enjoyed our cocktails and chatted about foodblogging in D.C. while the chef sent out an amuse bouche to pique our interest in our dinner to come. The small plate had a crispy fried, southern vegetable pie with black pepper buttermilk sauce, and a side of spicy shrimp remoulade on a bed of greens (and both are available on the menu). The two dishes combined some traditionally Southern ingredients in new ways without making the Louisiana "classics" too fussy, and I very much enjoyed our little palate jumpstart.

After our amuse bouche, a veritable army of servers, hostesses, and kitchen staff presented our entire table with our appetizers--every one of us ordered the Trio of Soups. This is not to say that the rest of the appetizers did not sound amazing--we each struggled through at least two cocktails apiece before coming to our final decision. It is just very difficult for anything to compete with: turtle soup au sherry, roasted sweet corn and blue crab bisque, AND smoked chicken and andouille sausage gumbo. The turtle soup was fresh and darkly flavored with just a kick of acid to round out the gravy-like broth. The bisque was very flavorful, with the perfect consistency (not too thick, perfectly creamy). And the gumbo was mildly spiced and flavored with a smoky roux that satisfied with every bite.

Between our appetizer and entrees, I ordered a hurricane made with fresh fruit juices and light and dark rum. It was sweet, and boozy, and would probably be best as an aperitif or a digestif. (which is, coincidentally, how I enjoyed it after being too mesmerized by my entree to think about things like...drinking). My entree, like the meal itself, was a finessed version of a "throw everything in the soup pot and let it simmer for days" Louisiana classic. I ordered the Louisiana seafood gumbo, with jumbo lump crab, crawfish, oysters, and redfish with Louisiana rice. Acadiana makes its seafood gumbo with a super dark roux that was almost coffee-like in color and aroma, and I suspect that they add file powder because I tasted some sassafras as well. The seafood was plump, and fresh, and abundant.

My only criticism is that I should have asked the chef add some spice to my gumbo, because the one thing it was really lacking was any distinction from one bite to the next. A super rich gumbo like Acadiana's often lacks any acid to make the flavors really dance, but the addition of spicy red, black, and white pepper can add some layers to the dish. My palate is still more attune to the Southern way of doing things, so I missed that "zing" that I'm used to, but it was still an enjoyable dish that I encourage you to try if you want a little bit of Louisiana in your life.

This can also be said of Acadiana's charms, in general--it's perfect for anyone who is craving a little bit of Summer vacation as they grind through the Washington D.C. 7-day work week. Or if you just want to try something new or impress some visitors, it is a wonderful place to enjoy friends and family, some exciting cocktails, and some flavorful Louisiana cooking. And if you are from Louisiana and you've found yourself in D.C., you'll also love Acadiana for satisfying that yearning you have for home--just don't forget to ask for the "extra spicy" preparation.

The Musings of a Rambling Foodblogger

Liza Jane, in return for your lovely list, I have crafted one for you. Hope it makes you giggle.

1. I have decided to make a concerted effort to cook in my underwear more often. Sure, I'll cover up any areas that are prone to bacon grease splatters (donations of cute aprons welcome), but cooking should be comfortable and joyous (read: nekkid). Along those lines, I henceforth ban myself from rushing home from work and immediately chopping veggies while still in my Ann Taylor slacks and pearls. And please don't judge me by my conservative work apparel--in order to look formidable as a lawyer when you're 5 foot 2, you must dress in Ann Taylor and wear pearls.

2. I am unreasonably excited about the tiny, tiny vegetable and herb garden that awaits me at our new apartment. I'm thinking of growing grape tomatoes this go round, since it's late in the season and I assume that they will grow and ripen faster than larger varieties. Now, if only I could also have a bacon and champagne garden, I'd never have to leave my house. (Which may be a good thing, if I'm going to be in my skivvies more often).

3. MetaList- Here are the various foods/beverages we enjoyed in N'awlins this past weekend, not including everything below that we had during our fabulous tasting menu at the Green Goddess. Pay attention, cuz this is how it's done in New Orleans:

Friday:

5 lbs. of spicy boiled crawfish with andouille sausage, new potatoes, and garlic cloves and a 6 pack of Abita Strawberry Beer.

Carnivore Smorgasbord at Cochon--fried alligator sausage in chile aioli; fried boudin sausage; Boucherie plate w/country pate, rilletes, and pickled things made in house; spicy grilled pork ribs w/pickled watermelon (wowza!); hen and sausage gumbo; smoked ham hock with sweet potatoes and blackeyed peas; rabbit and dumplings in an herb gravy; twice baked stuffed potato, creamy grits, mac n' cheese casserole AND CatDaddy--genuine moonshine heavily flavored with booze, vanilla, mandarin orange, and nutmeg.

That's five creatures, ya'll. We're so damned good, it scares me.

Saturday:

Mimosas a-la Liv and Mr. Davis

Catfish and softshelled crab po-boys, dressed, with Barq's rootbeer.

Green Goddess' approx. 12 courses of love.

Sunday:

Champagne Brunch at the Royal Sonesta: mucho champagne (thanks, Elenor!), Gulf Oysters, smoked peppered trout and two types of smoked salmon w/all the fixin's, sushi with unlimited roe/caviar/seaweed salad, shrimp ceviche, boiled gulf shrimp, Belgian waffles with cherries and whipped cream, bacon, sausage, perfectly poached eggs benedict on crab cakes (sigh), fried eggplant stuffed w/housemade ricotta, other various and sundry cheesy, saucy brunch dishes, and an entire table of parfaits, cakes, custards, and cobblers.

1 GIANT Port of Call chargrilled burger w/a loaded baked potato--sour cream, cheese, "chives" (green onions), and "bacon", 2 (?) Monsoon cocktails (think "mai tai in a bucket"), 1 purple daiquiri with artificial flavor and color of unknown origin.

Monday:

A Guy's catfish po-boy, dressed with extra hot sauce and a coke.

LOTS of water.

Foodbuzz 24, 24, 24: Celebrating the Grand Opening of New Orleans' Green Goddess Restaurant

NOTE: Greetings from sunny New Orleans! To celebrate its May 24, 24, 24 event, Foodbuzz.com sent Mr. Luz and I down here to enjoy the riches of Chef Chris DeBarr's brand new NOLA restaurant, the Green Goddess. This write up highlights the dinner menu, but the Green Goddess also serves amazing lunch and brunch menus, which are overseen by the highly-regarded Chef/Co-Owner Paul Artigues. The Green Goddess is in Exchange Alley, between Royal and Chartres and on the Canal St. side of the LA Supreme Courthouse. Please stop by, we promise you'll love it.

Our journey begins with a Pimm's Cup cocktail at the Napoleon House, as Mr. Luz and I sit and sip, preparing for the amazing dishes that await us at the Green Goddess. The Napoleon House is quintessential New Orleans. The paint that peels off the thick stucco walls has probably been there for decades, and the orange light bulbs in the overhead fixtures burn like the hot, hot tropical nights that are to come as Louisiana moves towards summer. The patrons move slowly, and gaze out the windows onto the street for long periods of time--they observe the landscape, and they are the landscape. Mr. Luz and I breathe it all in--we've been suffocating, and this--right here--is our lifeblood.

We talk about Chef Chris DeBarr, who was named New Orleans Best New Chef in 2006, the draw of his food, and his new restaurant, the Green Goddess. Chef DeBarr has emailed me at 4 a.m. in the past few weeks to update me on the Grand Opening of the Green Goddess, and to describe the amazing products he managed to procure for his endeavor. Waking up to pages and pages of Chris's writing detailing the amazing ingredients discussed below was like beginning the day with a book of poetry. There's something about the early morning light and the late-night musings of a passionate chef that just feels right in my world. As we finish our drinks, Mr. Luz and I also reflect on the urban bohemian utopia that is New Orleans, and how Chef DeBarr at times embodies the wild, lyrical tolerance-nay, celebration of diversity, that is this city.

We leave the Napoleon House, and took the short walk to Exchange Alley. The Green Goddess is in an intimate alley that gets full sun approximately 2 hours of the day, and is a breezy, shady oasis otherwise.

After reaching the Green Goddess, we had the pleasure of talking with Miz Marrus, designer of the Green Goddess's gorgeous sign (absolutely essential to any N'awlins establishment). She told hilarious stories about iterations the image went through--at one point Chef DeBarr requested imagery from Greek and Roman mythology, the Statue of Liberty, and a Mardi Gras Indian all at once--to get to the wild, powerful image we have today. You can find more details here.We peek into the intimate, bronze-gilded dining area, and say hi to Chef DeBarr. Then, like any good and unobtrusive dinner guest, I start taking pictures of things. Scott greets us, and takes our drink order. At his previous restaurant, Chef DeBarr preferred to dispatch with the waitstaff and serve the food himself, which means you always have an expert describing your dishes and answering your questions. Keeping with that theme, Chef DeBarr staffs the Green Goddess with cooks and chefs that are as comfortable serving tables in the the front of the house as they are trained to create the dishes in the back of the house. Scott served us at our table, but also helped prep and cook our dishes. Needless to say, the enthusiasm and pride among the front of the house staff was palpable, and we loved discussing the dishes with their creators as we were experiencing them.

Mr. Luz started with the Brazilian Samba and I ordered the Island Sea Breeze from the Green Goddess "Juicy Cocktail" menu. The Brazilian Samba features cashew fruit juice, sparkling apple juice, white tea, and agave with frozen young coconut juice floating on top, and the Island Sea Breeze has Ting (Jamaican grapefruit soda), hibiscus, acai juice, and lime juice. The drinks were complex, refreshing, and perfect for a sunny New Orleans late afternoon. Like any perfect creation, you can taste all of the elements independent from one another, and you also get an entirely different experience as all of the flavors harmonize into one.

We begin the Tasting Menu with the Niigata Bruschetta with edamame and mint tapenade with Japanese crazy wintry malted chiles on olive bread, paired with Chef DeBarr's Salty Banana Mango Lassi with basil seed drink "fault line" and curry sugar rim. If the Green Goddess were a microcosm of the utopian bohemia that is New Orleans, this dish would best represent the diversity that makes New Orleans so exciting. As Chef DeBarr tells the story, the tapenade is made of chiles that grow in the mountains of Japan. The chiles are packed in snow to mellow and sweeten their spicy elements, and then fermented in rice malt from the Niigata region of Japan for three years. The result is a salty, umami chile that Chef DeBarr mixes with fresh edamame and mint from his garden before spreading on thin, soft slices of bread. The dish is simultaneously sweet, earthy, and light on the palate. Chef DeBarr pairs the Niigata bruschetta with his dynamite Mango Banana Lassi (an appetizer in itself ) for a fantastically bright and decadadent first course.
The second course is a Pacific fiddlehead fern, fennel and absinthe bisque. Chef DeBarr roasts the nutty fiddlehead ferns with exotic Bengali seasonings, before cooking them a second time in the bisque. The aromatic ingredients nestle in the fiddleheads in a perfectly engineered dish.
Love. That bohemian theme is present in every element of Chef DeBarr's third course--the roasted golden beet carpaccio “ravioli” stuffed with truffled chèvre, finished with pomegranate molasses, Sardinian Saba, and avocado oil. This dish is all consuming, and almost bittersweet. Chef DeBarr roasts the sweet golden beets and slices them thin, with the tangy goat cheese between two slices. The pomegranate molasses is tart, and absolutely takes control of the roof of your mouth while the other elements dance on the front and sides of your tongue. The pink Himalayan salt that finishes the dish keeps it savory, and gives the subtle beets the kick they need to stand up to the more powerful elements.
The beet "ravioli" is paired with Chef DeBarr's Huckleberry Snowball, a "juicy cocktail" made of crushed ice sinking in Tazo Brambleberry Tea, Hansen’s Dragonfruit Sparkler, and an earthy huckleberry granita. The dark fruit flavors sink deeper into the shaved ice as you sip, and immediately, you are in love.
As we finish our Snowball, a brass band leads a second line of dancing, stomping folks past Exchange Alley and we pause to take in the joy that is strolling past us to the music of brass and drum.
Our fourth course could represent the Spirituality that strums beneath the NOLA way of life. Chef DeBarr's dish of lightly roasted asparagus, morels, petite green peas and shallot “Jam” with a juicy red wine reduction and fluffy red quinoa was the crescendo of the evening. The sauces sunk into the fluffy, earthy morels, and the caramelized shallots offered an intense sweetness to the bright spring flavors and the deep acidity of the red wine reduction. Mr. Luz tasted the Catholic incense of his alter boy days in the floral quinoa, and frankly, we were both emotional as we enjoyed the thoughtful purity of the dish in the peaceful New Orleans evening.
Music is the final urban bohemian element present in Chef DeBarr's Green Goddess tasting menu. His lychee ginger mint "cocktail" with lime absolutely sings. Mr. Luz described the ginger in this cocktail as analogous to hops in a good beer--it was aromatic, and exciting. The mint and lychee added subtle sweet and tangy flavors, and the candy mint danced across your tongue and left your mouth cool and fresh. Like the second line that graced our tasting menu earlier in the night, this "cocktail" alternately bounces and drifts across your palate, and is not to be missed.
Chef DeBarr finished the evening with his Mt. Hood Medicine Man salad, with shaved fennel, candied yuzu peel, hazelnuts and wild foraged spring greens with blood orange vinaigrette and avocado oil. This dish is perfectly lagniappe (meaning "a little something extra" in N'awlins-speak). Every bite is different, and the shaved fennel in particular changes whether you eat it with a bite of some of the bitter greens, the citrus-y yuzu peel, or the sweeter hazelnuts. The greens are foraged by hand on Oregon's Mt. Hood by a man named Running Squirrel. The greens truly taste wild, with a myriad of hidden flavors highlighted by Chef DeBarr's preparation, and they are fleeting in that they will only be harvested for a short time. In sum, Chef DeBarr's salad is a fresh, fleeting masterpiece in an otherwise stale culinary world where famous chefs haven't changed their menu since 2000 (sorry, Emeril).
The tasting menu ended with a toasted hazelnut tuile and blood orange sorbet with pine bud syrup, and a Louisiana strawberry crème brulee topped with caramelized balsamic syrup. The desserts progressed from citrus-y and bright to creamy and deep. (Maybe we also tasted Chef DeBarr's bread pudding with chocolate hazelnut--decadent!--and his Saturn Calling dessert made with sticky black rice pudding, coconut milk, mango and amaretto with tapioca pearls, which I highly recommend!)

Chef DeBarr's Green Goddess restaurant takes a purposefully and almost prayerfully distilled approach to melding fresh ingredients with exotic whimsy. In that way, he takes the traditional N'awlins approach to cooking, where roux-making is almost spiritual, and makes it his own. It is eclectic and original, in the most warm, approachable, and thoughtful way. Mr. Luz and I felt privileged to be able to attend a tasting dinner at the Green Goddess, and to enjoy the celebration of music, love, diversity, spirituality, and above all--rare and complex ingredients prepared with reverence--that the Green Goddess has to offer.

Other highlights from Chef DeBarr's dinner menu at the Green Goddess:

South Indian Savory Ivory Lentil Pancake (aka: utthappam) with petite green peas,
mustard seeds, kalonji, and spiced tomatoes with tamarind chutney & fiery dal. This dish tastes like an inside out samosa, fluffy and fun, and the tamarind paste puckers your palate in a good way!
Second favorite dish of the night: “Spooky” Blue Corn Crèpes with huitlacoche, (a
rare Aztec corn fungus) mushrooms & brandy ragout, finished with porcini salt and butter.

Holy Lord.

The huitlacoche can best be described as a sort of "noble rot" that gives the corn a meaty flavor and texture. The porcini salt and butter hits you in the face all at once and with every bite, and lends a truffled element to the dish.

Our final entrée was the Bison Bacon Meatloaf with asparagus roasted with serrano ham and twice baked potato and spicy steak sauce. My favorite part of this dish is the twice baked potato. The potatoes are whipped with yogurt instead of sour cream and then baked with manchego cheese. Scott told us that "you can't get the potatoes creamy enough for Chef Debarr-you could whisk butter, cream, and yogurt into them for hours and they're still not creamy enough." Awesome.

St. Joe's Blueberry Mojito Recipe

St. Joe's is a dark, skinny little New Orleans bar with an "approachably gothic" decor inside and a patio bathed in the red light of 20 large Chinese lanterns out back. The inside is a tight fit, which makes for for intimate conversation and lots of physical contact, while the open patio is a subdued, chill place to catch up with friends. In addition to offering some fantastic N'awlins ambiance, St. Joe's (grammar? St. Joe's'? It's unavoidable, ya'll) specialty cocktail is my absolute favorite--a limey, crisp blueberry mojito.

Maybe the temperature finally stalled out somewhere above 55 degrees in D.C. and I've already made these 3 times. If you make them, you'll understand.

From FoodandWine.com: St. Joe's Bar Blueberry Mojitos

10 mint leaves
10 blueberries (I thaw frozen ones, because they are a little sweeter)
3/4 oz. simple syrup
1 oz. lime juice
1 oz. chilled club soda
1 oz. chilled Sprite
1 1/2 oz. gold rum

(Directions altered to avoid you having to strain mint leaves out of your teeth for days)

In a cocktail glass, muddle blueberries, simple syrup, and mint. I use the handle of a wooden spoon, and try to do it 1 minute longer than I have the patience for. Also, I'm from the Midwest and we end sentences with prepositions.

Fill the glass with ice.

Pour the lime juice, club soda, sprite, and rum into the glass, pouring the liquid over the back of a spoon to avoid disturbing as much mint as possible. Swirl the glass to mix, and enjoy!

Holy Duckfat French Fries! Chris DeBarr's Back in Action

Joyous, joyous day! One of the most celebrated "new school" chefs in New Orleans, Chris DeBarr is coming back from his 10-month hiatus by opening his own restaurant! This is fantastic news for New Orleans.

Since Chef DeBarr left the tiny, tiny kitchen of the Delachaise last July, I have mourned the loss of his duck fat french fries and their fiery satay dipping sauce.

Sometimes, when I'm at the Harris Teeter cheese island, I dream that Chris is there, guiding me to the creamy, stinky, nutty, and tangy cheeses that packed our cheese plates on so many balmy evenings in NOLA. I miss having the brilliant, jovial chef deliver his thoughtful dishes to the table in his check pants and his clogs, daring us to guess the spices in his chestnut flour pasta & smoked goose dish. (It's not anise! Instead, it's the slighty licorice caraway seed. From Chef DeBarr himself "I based that dish on something I read about in the Alto Adige region of Italy, involving goose speck, called oca, which I immediately lusted after.")

But, ladies and gents, I no longer have to hallucinate his presence at the grocery store--he has returned and this time its his kitchen and his alone. That means that he's free to pack the walk-in coolers with whatever crazy fowls and foragers that he comes across at the market, and nobody can tell him that they won't sell. It also means that he doesn't have to stock Diet Coke if he doesn't want to, and, be warned--he doesn't want to.

Chef Chis DeBarr's new restaurant is on Exchange Alley in the French Quarter (Between Royal and Conti, on the Uptown side of the LA Supreme Ct. Building), and he's naming it the "Green Goddess." The name alludes to many things: the famous absinthe drink that is inextricably tied to bohemian NOLA (get it at the Pirate Bar in NOLA, or Wisdom in D.C.), our heightened awareness of our collective environmental footprint, and a celebration of the vegetables and herbs that awaken our palate and nourish our bodies. Chris' restaurant will resonate all of these concepts, but he also wants to play tribute to New Orleans native Warren LeRuth, who developed the recipe for the cucumber-hued Green Goddess salad dressing that taught Chris that "food could be exotic, even capable of turning a boring lettuce salad into something a little bit fantastic."

One feature of the Green Goddess will be its unique beverage service. No safe-haven Diet Coke here. Instead, order a "Brazilian Samba", with cashew fruit juice, sparkling pear juice, white tea, agave nectar, and ice cubes of young coconut juice. Or try a can of Ting, a Jamaican grapefruit soda that blows our cherry-coke crap out of the water.

And don't expect the food to be upstaged by the drinks--that's not Chef DeBarr's style. His blog suggests that he has many, many secrets in store for his diners, including a modern method of preparing dishes tableside (perfect for nomadic, gregarious Chef DeBarr) that won't remind you of the 80-year-old tuxedo clad server setting your bananas foster on fire beside a dingy booth at Morton's. Right now, I'm most excited about the gourmet bison and bacon meatloaf with roasted asparagus wrapped in serrano ham--that and the "whoopass lunch sandwich" he plans to make from cold slices of the same.

UPDATE: Though I included linked to Chef DeBarr's livejournal, I didn't give you the webaddress outright. For more info about the Green Goddess, and to follow along as the restaurant moves towards its Grand Opening, check out http://chefcdb.livejournal.com/ or visit http://www.greengoddessnola.com/, which should be up and running soon.

(Jambalaya) Crawfish Pie (File Gumbo) Recipe

"For tonight, I'm gonna see my ma cher-amio..."

Cooter Brown's is a cave-like bar in New Orleans that serves GIANT sandwiches loaded with fatty, meaty goodness. Mr. Luz and I went there after our first date and ran into native of my hometown, St. Louis, Missouri. As I wolfed down my GIANT reuben sandwich, Mr. St. Louisan told Mr. Luz "Only a St. Louis girl could appreciate a sandwich that much!" As they say, the rest is history.

When a few of my friends told me that they celebrate March 14th with a Pi/e Party, I immediately thought about Cooter Brown's Boudreaux Special, made with mini crawfish pies. The menu description is as follows: "Ms. Wheat's crawfish pies on french bread with remoulade sauce. So good it'll make you wanna slap yo grandmamma!" By the way, I don't mess around with grandmamas. When Grandmama P. passed away, she told me that if I ever felt a swift kick in the ass as I was doing something wrong, that I shouldn't turn around, it's just her telling me to knock it off. And Grandmama McBride took on an F-350 pickup truck. No sir, I don't eff with grandmamas. But I do love crawfish pie.

I made my pie crusts based on The Parsley Thief's recipe, found here. I also realized that I hate making pie crust in general, much less 25 mini pie crusts; next time I'll just use the store bought crap. Amateur Gourmet, I am decidedly not a pie dough personality. For tweaks on The Parsley Thief's recipe, see Tips and Tricks below.

Crawfish Pie Recipe
5-6 prepared pie shells, thawed
1 lb. peeled crawfish tails
1 package crab boil
1 1/2 cup sliced okra (if using frozen, thaw first)
2 tsp. oil
1 large tomato, coarse chopped
1 stick butter (woot!)
1/2 cup flour
1 cup diced white onions
1/2 cup diced green pepper
1/2 cup diced celery
1/4 cup chopped green onion
2 cups smoked sausage, diced
3 Tbs. Tony's Lite Seasoning, or another low-sodium cajun spice blend
Cayenne pepper and salt to taste
Flour
3 egg whites, lightly whisked

Put crawfish tails and crab boil packet in a large pot, barely cover with water. Bring pot to a boil, immediately turn off heat, and let crawfish tails soak for 30 min.-1 hour. Drain and return to the pot.
Saute okra in oil on medium-low heat, until the ropiness is gone and the okra has caramelized on the bottom of the pan. (10-15 minutes.) Remove okra, let cool, and chop OR pulse several times in a food processesor. Add okra to the drained crawfish. Saute tomato in the okra pan on low, stirring until the browned bits have released from the bottom of the pan.
Melt the butter and add the flour. Stir constantly to make a light roux (approx. 4-6 minutes).
Add the trinity (white onion, celery, green pepper) and saute until the veggies are soft. Add the sausage and saute for 3 minutes. Add the crawfish & okra, the tomato mixture, Tony's Seasoning, and the green onions. Stir until heated through. Set aside to cool.
Spread pie crusts out onto floured surface. Use a biscuit cutter, or a water glass to cut circles in the dough. Spoon filling onto the pastry circles, and fold in half. **It is easiest to assemble the pastries if you pull one side of the pastry to meet the other, lifting both sides off the counter and sealing with your fingertips pressing on either side. You can use your fingers to push the filling to the center of the pastry as you seal.** If the pastries do not seal, use a small amount of water on the seamed edges.

Crimp with a fork, and place onto a floured baking sheet. Freeze until ready to bake, or bake immediately, spaced out on a separate baking sheet. To bake, preheat the oven to 450 F. Spray baking sheet w/non-stick cooking spray or cover with parchment paper. Brush pastries lightly with egg whites, and bake for 18-20 minutes--until golden brown. (If frozen, bake for an additional 5 minutes).

Tips and Tricks:

If the pastry gets too sticky, add flour and/or return to the refrigerator to set.

It takes time to get the filling/dough ratio correct, and these boogers are yummy but they are not easy to put together.

Serve w/a remoulade sauce, (see below) which can be made w/many ingredients you already have in your fridge, plus some leftover from your crawfish-pie filling.

N'awlins Remoulade Sauce Recipe

Now there are two types of people in the world...people who like the French "white" remoulade w/mayonaise and capers, and those who prefer the spicy, tangy, N'awlins "red" remoulade best known for coating fabulous cajun boiled shrimp at New Orleans restaurants everywhere. (Prounounced "reh-mu-lawd," sort of quick, like you're about to jump into a huge sack of boiled crawfish and don't have time to talk about it.)

Ok, maybe that overstates things a bit. Regardless, here's my recipe for the red New Orleans style remoulade. It's super-tangy, with a little bit of spice and alot of green onion flavor.

New Orleans Remoulade Sauce
6 Tbs. Creole mustard
1 Tbsp. paprika
2 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
8 Tbs. vinegar
3/4 cup chopped green onions
4 dashes hot sauce
1/4 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup ketchup
1/4 cup yellow mustard (I know it sounds like alot of mustard, but it gives the recipe the tangy flavor plus some heat, makes it mauh-velous).
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 small eggs or 1 extra large, brought to room temp with a hot water bath
2 Tbs. lemon juice
2/3 cup oil

Place all ingredients besides oil in a blender, and puree. With blender on high, slowly add oil in a stream. The mixture should emulsify, giving it the texture of a thin mayonaise. Cover and store in the fridge overnight, so the flavors can develop. Serve with seafood, toss with boiled shrimp and serve over lettuce, or use to smother some unsuspecting french fries.

Spicy Butter with Shrimp a.k.a. Shrimp Etouffee Recipe

Whew! I've started a number of projects lately, and while I'm happy to be churning away (see: the DSM IV's diagnosis for "Control Freak") I hate to be away from the food blog for very long.

I also have what Mr. Luz's therapist would call an "enmeshed" family. I don't think he meant that as a compliment, but my family represents some of the coolest people on the planet. My little brother flew a plane all by himself this week! Can you do that? Even better, my older brother got a call from his son's teacher--she just wanted my bro to know that he and his wife were raising my nephew to be a "wonderful man."

Sigh. Hearing about these things brings me more comfort and satisfaction than anything else, which may explain why I'm constantly on the phone right now in lieu of sleeping, eating, and bathing.

Another thing that offers me comfort and satisfaction is spicy butter with shrimp. (See how I transitioned there? Good, huh?) Since I've already shared my familial celebrations with you --Go Scooter! Go Nikko! You guys make me so proud--I'd also like to share a culinary celebration. This recipe is largely courtesy of Nola Cuisine, with, of course, some Control-Freak-tweaking. I like it because you get all the benefits of a roux (nutty flavor and thickness) without the work.

Shrimp Etouffee Recipe

2 Tbsp Tony's Light Creole Seasoning, or another low sodium Creole Blend
4 Tbsp Unsalted Butter
1 Onion, cut into 8 parts
1/2 cup Onion, Finely Chopped
1/2 cup Celery, Finely Chopped
1/2 cup Bell Pepper, Finely Chopped
1/4 cup Flour
1 cup Fresh Tomatoes, diced
1 1/2 cups Shrimp Stock (instructions below)
2 Tbsp Minced Garlic
2 bundles Fresh Thyme
2 tsp Worcestershire Sauce
2 1/2 tsp Louisiana Hot Sauce
1/2 cup Green Onions, thinly sliced
2 lb Good Quality Shrimp, Peeled and De veined--reserve the shells for stock
Salt, Cayenne Pepper, and Black Pepper to taste
4 cups Prepared rice

To Make the Stock

Put tails and shells from 2 lb. of shrimp in stock pot. Roast the shells on medium-high heat, stirring often, until some of the shells begin to darken beyond a red color. Add the onion you cut into 8ths and one bundle of thyme and cover with water.* Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for at least one hour. If you do not have a fine mesh sieve, strain first through a colander, and then through paper towels folded into a funnel.

*The original recipe calls for a more involved stock recipe, but I simplified it and it still tasted wonderful. Also, if you want to simmer for longer than an hour, the lemon in the original recipe releases some of the bitter oils in its rind and ruins your stock.

To Make the Ettoufee

Chop all the veggies ahead of time. This recipe comes together quickly, so you'll want your ingredients on hand. Season the shrimp with 1 Tbsp of the Creole Seasoning. Melt the butter in a soup pot, and add the Holy Trinity (onions, bell pepper, and celery). Saute on medium heat until translucent.Whisk in the flour and stir until the mixture turns a dark yellow, about 5 minutes. Stir in the remaining Creole Seasoning. Add a small amount of the shrimp stock, stir well to form a paste, add the remaining stock gradually, whisking constantly. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Add the tomatoes, garlic, thyme, worcestershire, and hot sauce. Add salt, cayenne, and black pepper to taste. Simmer for 20-30 minutes.Add the shrimp and green onions, cover, and simmer for 7-10 minutes, until the shrimp are cooked through. The shrimp will release some water as they cook and thin the ettouffee. Serve over rice. I prefer a 1:1 ratio of rice to ettouffee...it should be stew-like on serving. Immediately share with your favorite family member. (Syd, we have a date w/some N'awlins food the next time I come home!)