Two Chicks in The Big Easy, Day 7: "Beignet…done that"

On our final morning in New Orleans, the beignets we ordered were flat…like our spirits. It was sad to be leaving.

We had time only for breakfast before we had to pack up and make our way to the airport. And so we savored our time at Café Beignet, taking in our last moments in this sweet, funky, vibrant city. Despite their uncharacteristic flatness, the beignets were still delicious; when we pulled apart their hot, crisp exteriors, powdered sugar puffed out onto our laps and tendrils of steam curled up from their fluffy and tender insides. Soon after we licked the last bits of sugar from our fingertips, it was time for us to go.

I brought back a half pound of these super-sweet pralines from Southern Candymakers to share with my coworkers (I broke them into pieces since a whole praline was pretty huge). Of all that I sampled, these were the creamiest I could find, and the only ones made with whole pecans. Pralines in general are much too sweet for my tastes, but the box did disappear by the early afternoon, so I suppose they were well received.

Last thoughts.

1.


I know seven days isn't enough to take a true sampling, but much of the Cajun and Creole food we tried was really, really heavy and really, really salty. I came to NOLA expecting to be all into it—and I was—but I was less into it than I thought I'd be. There were some good meals, but you could probably tell we were also dying for some lighter grub.

2.

As I mentioned in this entry, the Louisiana wetlands are in trouble. Aside from housing a rich ecosystem, the wetlands also serve as a natural buffer against hurricanes, absorbing much of the storms' impact before they hit land. But because of their decay over the last century, Louisiana's coast has lost much of its natural protection. I didn't know much about this before visiting.

More info:
"The Threatening Storm," TIME magazine
"Wetlands erosion raises hurricane risks," MSNBC.com
Coastal Protection and Restoration Authority of Louisiana

3.

New Orleans is definitely still a city in recovery. Most of what we explored was lively and thriving, but there was also evidence of its struggle in big and small ways, from the washed-out, abandoned houses we saw on the way to the swamps to the restaurants that now only stay open for half the number of meals as they used to.

Volunteer opportunities:
Hands On New Orleans
Habitat for Humanity, New Orleans Area

4.

When Hurricane Katrina hit I remember feeling profoundly sad that an area so steeped in culture, history, and personality had been essentially washed away, or so I thought. New Orleans has managed to survive, and for the opportunity to still experience its rich character and hospitality, I am grateful.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled New York noshing…!

Two Chicks in The Big Easy:
Day 1: All fried, all the time
Day 2: Too much buffet, and bad fried chicken
Day 3: Our beignet addiction takes hold
Day 4: Still fried, but deliciousness at last
Day 5: Food court and dive bar surprises
Day 6: Giant salads, muffalattas, and no beignets
Day 7: "Beignet...done that"

Two Chicks in The Big Easy, Day 6: Giant salads, muffalattas, and no beignets

Catch up! Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, and Day 5.


It had started feeling dangerously indulgent to be noshing on beignets every morning, so on Sunday we decided to get our coffee and pastry fix from Croissant D'or Patisserie. Above, clockwise from top left: almond croissant; madeleine; a sweet raisin-studded bun; and large-size café au lait. All of these were decent but not spectacular—the madeleine had good flavor but was a little dry, the almond croissant had a curiously butter-soaked bottom and no almond paste filling, the raisin bun was nothing special. Perhaps we should have stuck to our customary breakfast, after all.

A little later, while wandering around the French Market, I got a sno-ball from a truck on the side. Here is the "Tiger's Blood" flavor, which the vendor described as being "berry, with a hint of coconut." I can't say I tasted the coconut, but it was pretty good, though it was really sweet and stained my mouth bright red.

We spent the rest of the morning in the charming courtyard of Royal Cafe, where I finished some proofreading and MH did some reading for her classes before we broke for lunch.

Even before I had stepped foot into New Orleans, I had been determined to have a muffalatta; MH doesn't like olives though, and I felt bad dragging her to Central Grocery to have what would basically be an olive-centric meal. Since they seemed to keep well, I had figured I could pick up one up before we left, and just eat it back in New York.

To my dismay, I realized Saturday night that Central Grocery was closed on both Sundays and Mondays—and we were leaving Monday morning. Nooo! Determined to at least try one even if not the definitive version, I got on The Google and figured out that a decent alternative could be had at the historic Napolean House (above).

Once there, I was delighted to spot an appetizer of boudin on the menu. Here was a chance to try the sausage in its actual sausage form, instead of breaded and deep-fried. The boudin came with a sweet, mustardy sauce and a small tangle of grilled onions and peppers, and the filling was softer and mealier than with the boudin balls. The tangy sauce went well with the sausage, but overall I think the boudin balls were better.

Then, the muffalatta! I ordered a half instead of a quarter as I had planned because MH said she wanted to try it. The sandwich was good, with the olive salad not unexpectedly being the star of the show. I was surprised to see that it wasn't just straight olives (I guess I was thinking of something like tapenade) but rather a chunky mixture of olives, garlic, celery, pimientos, and pickled cauliflower and carrots. MH gave the thumbs-up too.

At the recommendation of my friend CY, that night we went to Angeli on Decatur for a late dinner, a quiet spot we had been passing each time we made our way between our hotel and Frenchman Street.

I made a point of not sharing MH's grilled chicken salad with her this time, since I wanted greens and didn't want to unbalance her meal by eating all the lettuce from it. So I ordered a veggie burger with a salad on the side and we also got a side of pasta salad to split.

But we were somehow again in the land of giant salads, because MH's large grilled chicken salad could have filled a laundry basket, and the "small" pasta salad…

…was a veritable heap of pasta, kalamata olives, fresh and sun-dried tomatoes, and red onion, on top of about six leaves of romaine lettuce. We totally could have shared one or the other and been satisfied. I'm not sorry about the pasta salad though, as it was kick-ass—I don't often like pasta salads, usually finding them too oily, too mushy, or too bland, but Angeli's version was tangy, fresh, and perfectly dressed; each tender corkscrew was infused with flavor.

I enjoyed my veggie burger as well, which actually came as two thin patties instead of one fat one. I loved that it was all grains, beans, and vegetables instead of a mushy, processed mystery patty of vegetable protein masquerading as meat.

And so went our last dinner.

We headed to Frenchman Street to check out the music one last time, where I had this bottle of Abita at The Spotted Cat. It was our final evening in New Orleans, and already I knew that I would miss the place.

To be continued….

Two Chicks in The Big Easy:
Day 1: All fried, all the time
Day 2: Too much buffet, and bad fried chicken
Day 3: Our beignet addiction takes hold
Day 4: Still fried, but deliciousness at last
Day 5: Food court and dive bar surprises
Day 6: Giant salads, muffalattas, and no beignets
Day 7: "Beignet...done that"

Two Chicks in The Big Easy, Day 5: Food court and dive bar surprises

Catch up! Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, and Day 4.


I should have called this series "The Beignet Chronicles," or something. Above are the good folks at the Café du Monde outpost inside Riverwalk Marketplace, making what they make best. If we hadn't already had a breakfast of beignets that morning at our favorite café ("I want my own this time," MH had declared, still bitter from the day before), I'm sure we would have given in at the sight of the glistening pastries coming out of the deep fryer.

We had spent the early afternoon wandering around the Audubon Nature Institute complex, where we had watched the IMAX film Hurricane in the Bayou (the Louisiana wetlands are in trouble, people, and their rapid disappearance is a major part of why Katrina hit the city so hard). By the time we stumbled upon the food court, we were hungry. I was a bit reluctant to eat there (did we really travel to NOLA just to eat in a mall food court?) but I didn't have an alternative in mind, anyway. Though our meals had gotten better, we still hadn't been able to escape fried food, and I had no idea where to find something delicious that hadn't been dipped in boiling fat first. Neither one of us had a better plan, so off we went.

Ironically, this meal turned out to be one of the better ones of the trip. MH had abandoned ship entirely and gotten a cucumber salad and some plain spaghetti, but I wasn't quite ready to give up on the local specialties. The choices were a bit slim, but I opted for a roast chicken plate from C. Cajun Chicken, which came with a scoop of jambalaya, a few pieces of garlic bread, and Cajun potato salad. The chicken was juicy and spicy, and the jambalaya, while salty, was almost like paella, seafoody and flavorful. The potato salad was good too, combining perfectly cooked spuds and chopped hard-boiled eggs in a mayonnaise dressing. The only item that fell flat was the garlic bread, which had dried out into the equivalent of large, hard croûtons.

Much later, when MH declared that she was hungry again, we took a stroll down along Decatur Street and hit up Coop's Place, a dive bar that had surprisingly good food. I was still pretty full from our late lunch, so I just got a small cup of their rabbit and sausage jambalaya, which was smoky, spicy, and delicious.

MH really liked her shrimp creole, and so did I. It was fresh tasting, full of flavor, and almost a little sweet, although it didn't really come with enough rice (there's like, a teeny little scoop under there).

We also decided to split a grilled shrimp salad, thinking it would be something like the one we had a few days ago.

But look! Just look at that salad. Let's compare it to the one we had at Casamento's, shall we?

Casamento's salad:

And the salad from Coop's Place again, in case you forgot:

Yeah.

So much for a small dinner! Oh, and they were the same price, too: $10.

After Coop's Place we headed to Frenchman Street, a quirky little area with live music in every other bar, and where we had been hanging out for the last few nights. Like getting beignets and café au lait each morning, hopping around the jazz bars in the evenings had become another one of our rituals. We had begun to finally settle into New Orleans. And luckily, we still had two days left!

Panorama Jazz Band, one of my favorites.

To be continued….

Two Chicks in The Big Easy:
Day 1: All fried, all the time
Day 2: Too much buffet, and bad fried chicken
Day 3: Our beignet addiction takes hold
Day 4: Still fried, but deliciousness at last
Day 5: Food court and dive bar surprises
Day 6: Giant salads, muffalattas, and no beignets
Day 7: "Beignet...done that"

Two Chicks in The Big Easy, Day 4: Still fried, but deliciousness at last

Catch up! Day 1, Day 2, and Day 3.

Due to a mix-up (my watch told me it was one time, but New Orleans was operating on another) I got MH up super early and plied her with café au lait and beignets. We split a single order again—at which she complained bitterly—because I had other eats in mind. Namely, random take-out items from the French Quarter Grocery and Deli. Behold, a Cajun meat pie, a crawfish pistolette, and boudin balls. Did I say I was sick of fried food?

The pistolette, as far as I could tell, was a roll that had been stuffed with a cheesy crawfish mixture and then deep fried. It was interesting and sort of tasty, but so soaked in oil that I could only take a few bites. The meat pie was great, though—it fell squarely into the empanada/Jamaican beef patty/ground-meat-stuffed-in-fried-dough category, and was spicy and fresh-tasting… as far as something deep-fried can taste fresh.

I had wanted to try boudin ever since reading about the Louisiana sausage in Calvin Trillin's awesome book Feeding a Yen. I'd scoured the internet looking for a place to get some in NOLA, but it seemed that boudin was more something found outside of the city, and only at grocery stores and gas stations.

So when I spotted boudin balls on the deli's menu, I figured I could at least try them in round, deep-fried form. And these were great—like a Southern version of Sicilian arancini. Their crunchy exterior gave way to a soft, creamy filling of meat and rice, which had a pleasantly gamey edge. Yeah, I'd eat these again.

Still full from our breakfast, we took a few bites of each item and then packed up the rest for later. We were off for a tour of the swamps!

Betcha didn't know that 'gators like eating marshmallows.

We spent the day in the swamps, and when we got back, we headed to Bayona for a more formal dinner as a break from all the casual eating we had been doing. We didn't have a reservation, but the restaurant was able to fit us in anyway—which I'm glad about, since it was here that we had one of the best meals of the trip.

They started us off with a bread plate and a small dish of pickled items, including cauliflower, carrots, olives, pepperoncini, and some cloves of stellar roasted garlic that had been marinated in balsamic vinegar. There was good butter and the brioche-like roll in the back was delicious, buttery and soft and rich. It was a promising beginning.

My crispy smoked quail salad arrived first. More quail than salad, it boasted four perfectly-battered pieces, paired with wedges of sweet pear, spiced pralines, greens, and some other items I couldn't place, all in a bourbon molasses vinaigrette. The salad was outstanding, and though I had assumed I was at the point where I couldn't put another fried piece of food into my mouth again, the quail was so delicious I just dug right in.

I also ordered an appetizer portion of their sautéed sweetbreads to go with my salad. I'd never eaten sweetbreads before, so I was excited to try them. Here they are in a sherry-mustard sauce, and accompanied by mushrooms and little cubed potatoes and beets.

The sweetbreads were interesting—they didn't have quite the texture of fat, but were soft and melting in the same way. Each piece had acquired crisp edges in the pan, and with the beets and the cubes of potato, each mouthful was a pleasing textural/taste combination of creamy, savory, starchy, sweet, and rich.

MH's avocado, crawfish, and fried green tomato salad was good too, though she was so sick of fried food at that point that she picked off most of the breading on the tomatoes. And the garlic soup she got was amazing—each creamy spoonful brimmed with the flavor and aroma of perfectly seasoned roasted garlic.

Even though we hadn't managed to stop eating fried food, when I left the restaurant I felt satisfied and happy. I was a little sunburnt, a little tired, a little more in love with the city, and altogether quite content. I was ready for an evening of hopping around the jazz bars.

To be continued….

Two Chicks in The Big Easy:
Day 1: All fried, all the time
Day 2: Too much buffet, and bad fried chicken
Day 3: Our beignet addiction takes hold
Day 4: Still fried, but deliciousness at last
Day 5: Food court and dive bar surprises
Day 6: Giant salads, muffalattas, and no beignets
Day 7: "Beignet...done that"

Two Chicks in The Big Easy, Day 3: Our beignet addiction takes hold

Catch up! Day 1 and Day 2.

Here is the one fried item that MH and I were always unable to resist.

On our third day, after MH's declaration that the beignets and coffee at Café du Monde had been her favorite dinner so far, we split an order of the fried pastries at Café Beignet at breakfast for comparison.

The ones at Café Beignet turned out to be adorably rotund little pillows with soft, tender insides, coated with a lighter sprinkle of powdered sugar than Café du Monde's. Though MH wished there was more of the sweet stuff, and despite them being slightly oilier, we ended up agreeing that Café Beignet's puffier, more delicate version was superior to CDM's overall.

Their café au lait was excellent as well, and we loved the peaceful, sunny courtyard, which wasn't jammed with tourists like at Café du Monde. And since two of Café Beignet's three locations were serendipitously within one or two blocks of our hotel, we knew that we'd be back. In fact, we would end up stopping by for breakfast pretty much every morning for the rest of our trip.

After breakfast, we hopped on a bus to check out the shops and cafés along Magazine Street. Our first stop was at The Creole Creamery, where the Food Network television show Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives happened to be filming the place for one of their episodes. I could see why—the place was super quaint, and featured a ton of quirky flavors.

We took a while to place our orders, since there were so many interesting choices available. In the end we had six half-scoops before us: Bananas Foster; Black and Gold Crunch (a mix of French vanilla with chickory and chocolate chips); Chocolate Guinness; Roasted Pineapple; Amaretto Cheesecake; Red Velvet. The best one was the Amaretto Cheesecake, and the oddest was the Chocolate Guinness—I thought I would be into the combination, as I like Guinness beer, but somehow all the beer's flavor showed up without any of its charm.

Sated with sweets, we moseyed our way along Magazine Street, stopping at clothing and antiques stores and spending almost two hours at a bead shop where MH picked out stones for a pair of earrings she wanted me to replicate for her. Along the way, we ran into the brightly painted Tee-Eva's Creole Soul Food stand.

I picked up a mini sweet potato pie, which was great. The filling was moist and had the perfect level of sweetness, so the pleasant flavor of the sweet potato was able to show itself. The crust was thin and slightly salty, which played well against the filling.

The pie tided me over until we headed to Casamento's in the evening for dinner.

When we sat down, the waitress came over and asked if we wanted to start with some oysters, and before I could protest, MH had agreed to a half dozen. About five minutes later, our plate was set down before us. I took one look and was totally sketched out. I know the restaurant had been serving oysters for years and probably knew what they were doing, but the bivalves arrived un-iced and with the sort of sheen on them that seemed to signify they had been sitting out for a while. Still, MH seemed unconcerned and when I touched the shells they were cold, so I decided to take my chances.

They turned out to be fine, though strangely muddy on the outside, so I couldn't slurp the oysters directly from the shells as I usually do. And I think my fear of food poisoning kept me from really enjoying them. All throughout the rest of the meal I waited for stomach pains to begin, but they never did. Whew.

We wanted to get at least one healthy dish, so we opted for a grilled shrimp salad. This turned out to be nothing more than about a dozen shrimp scattered over a bed of iceberg lettuce and a few mealy slices of tomato. This was fine, but not very interesting.

The oyster loaf, which had been the original draw for me, ended up being a little disappointing as well. I had envisioned something more like a hollowed-out loaf of bread stuffed with fried oysters, but this was essentially an oyster po'boy with large slices of buttered, toasted white bread substituted for French. It was good, but not as good as I had hoped.

I was still waiting for the cuisine of New Orleans to blow me away, and I was starting to wonder if it would ever happen.

To be continued….

Two Chicks in The Big Easy:
Day 1: All fried, all the time
Day 2: Too much buffet, and bad fried chicken
Day 3: Our beignet addiction takes hold
Day 4: Still fried, but deliciousness at last
Day 5: Food court and dive bar surprises
Day 6: Giant salads, muffalattas, and no beignets
Day 7: "Beignet...done that"