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"

Two Chicks in The Big Easy, day 2: Too much buffet, and bad fried chicken

Catch up! Day 1.

The next day, MH and I woke up late. We were both hungry, and I decided that I wanted to hit up one of the jazz brunches I kept seeing advertised. MH was kind enough to humor me even though she hates buffets.

The garden dining area of The Court of the Two Sisters was beautiful, full of trailing wisteria and fountains. But their buffet was indoors, in a space that felt rather dark and empty. Stepping between the two areas meant a change in mood that was slightly disorienting.

There were lots of items on offer though, at least eighty I believe.

Here's my sampler plate, clockwise from top: biscuit (slightly sweet, tasty); crabmeat pasta salad; Cajun pasta salad; flounder and crabmeat roulade (good); curried chicken salad, eggplant-andouille casserole (tasty); spicy andouille; cheesy shrimp pasta (good); duck l'orange (tough and flavorless); jambalaya (much too salty); and braised veal (tough and too salty).

I also snagged us a plate of boiled crawfish and shrimp, with a good dollop of rémoulade on the side. Unfortunately, the shrimp were desperately overcooked and had turned into little curves of pink rubber, and the crawfish were much too salty. I tried the sauce with one, but that was salty too. I quickly abandoned the entire plate.

My second plate, clockwise from top: crawfish salad; sweet potato and andouille salad (surprisingly vinegary); potato salad chunk; shrimp étouffée on rice; potatoes au gratin; more cheesy shrimp pasta; another flounder and crabmeat roulade; and in the middle, more eggplant-andouille casserole.

I also tried a bit of sherried turtle soup, which tasted like beef broth; if there was supposed to be a turtley flavor—whatever that may mean—the soup didn't have it.

Then it was on to dessert. Two plates, mine and MH's: Bananas Foster (buttery and too sweet); whiskey bread pudding (solid as a brick); pecan pie (decent filling, bad crust); king cake (stale); chocolate cream-filled cupcake (tasty in a Ding-Dong kinda way); brownie; chocolate cake; vanilla ice cream (half-melted and foamy in texture).

I can't say it was a stellar meal, but, um, sitting in the courtyard and listening to the jazz trio was nice. And it was filling at least?

We spent the rest of the day making our way along the waterfront and walking around the French Quarter and the French Market. Neither of us felt hungry even as it hit late evening.

But when we left the Quarter and stepped onto Canal Street, we spotted a Popeyes. Before our trip, we had heard from several different people that the Popeyes outposts in New Orleans were excellent. MH and I were curious what all the fuss was about, and had even contemplated staging a NYC-NOLA taste-off to see how they compared. We figured it was as good a time as any to give the chain a try.

Remembering our meal now, I can't believe that the results of a taste-off would have been too different. The spicy chicken in our two-piece meal tasted like KFC, and wasn't spicy; the gummy biscuits tasted overwhelmingly of artificial butter; the Cajun fries were decent but not extraordinary; and the chicken étouffée was just okay. And I liked the Cajun rice, but I suspect it might have been because it was the only item that wasn't mouth-dryingly salty.

Were we putting too much expectation on what was, in the end, fast food? Did we just get a shoddy meal? It doesn't matter, I suppose, because we didn't go back again for a second try. We weren't doing too well on the eats that day.

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 1: All fried, all the time

MH and I have been wanting to take a trip together for years, but our schedules have never matched up. When she was on break from law school, I had to work; when she was going to Taiwan, I had just gone the year before; when her classes were over in the summer, I was stuck studying for the GREs. The most we could ever manage were weekend road trips to neighboring states. But miraculously, this year when she announced that she was free during her spring break, I was also.

We looked into a trip to Japan, which we calculated would be too costly. As we turned our travel plans domestic, I floated out the suggestion of New Orleans without much hope, having been turned down by various friends many times before. But to my amazement MH was into the idea. It was decided—we would head to the Big Easy!

Our flight landed in New Orleans around 1 pm. On the long bus ride to our hotel, we befriended the bus driver, who turned around to chat so many times, we switched our seats to a closer position so that he wouldn't drive us off the road. When our conversation turned to food, he told us about the oyster festival that had taken place just days before, whose feature item was a "block-long oyster po'boy." I was extremely sad that we had missed it.

We arrived safely to the French Quarter, but couldn't yet check into our hotel. So we headed over to Acme Oyster House for lunch, a cheap, touristy spot full of gaudy neon. On the way in one of the servers took a liking to MH after getting over his disbelief that she spoke English; immediately after he recovered he asked if they could hang out sometime. My, my, was the South living up to its friendly reputation.

Once we had ordered, we quieted the growl in our stomachs with a few packets of saltines from the basket sitting on the table. Our starter of a dozen chargrilled oysters arrived soon after. They had been basted with some kind of buttery garlic sauce and topped with romano cheese before being tossed onto the flames; the salty, crusty cheese melded beautifully with each juicy oyster. And our emptied shells held a delicious amalgam of buttery garlic sauce, oyster juice, spicy seasoning, and crusty cheese, perfect for sopping up with the thin rounds of bread scattered amongst our dozen.

We got the "Ten-Napkin" roast beef po'boy, served "debris-style," meaning the beef had been cooked until it had fallen apart into its own drippings and soaked them up. True to its description, the po'boy overflowed with gravy. However, it was extremely salty, and both MH and I stopped eating after we finished our respective thirds, leaving the last behind.

We also got the"Peace Maker" po'boy: half shrimp and half oyster. To my surprise it really did come as two halves, the shrimp on one side and the oysters on the other, not a mix as I had expected. I was disappointed after my first bite—I thought the po'boy would equal more than the sum of its parts, but this version didn't seem like anything other than plain, heavily breaded fried seafood with lettuce, tomato, and mayo on soft French bread. Its description mentioned a Tabasco-infused mayo, but I detected no heat.

Still, it was fried, and fried things are good. Especially when they arrive in sandwich form.

That night, after an afternoon strolling around and getting our bearings, we ended up at the famous Café du Monde, whose presence I saw everywhere in the city. CDM-brand coffee and beignet mix were sold in almost every shop and grocery we popped our heads into, and there were entire gift stores devoted to souvenirs with the coffee stand's imprint. Granted, we were in the super-touristy French Quarter, but I found the café's ubiquitousness kind of amazing.

Its popularity is for good reason, however. Their beignets were delicious, as was their café au lait. Our pillows of fried dough arrived under a thick drift of powdered sugar and were practically greaseless. We later heard that CDM's beignets are prepared in lard—I haven't tried to verify this, I think I'd rather not know—but that could certainly account for why they were so dang tasty.

Yum.

The beignets and coffee ended up being our dinner, as neither of us felt like eating anything else after consuming so much fried-ness in one day. We would both hit a definite limit to how much salt and oil we could consume comfortably—although there was one exception we always made.

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"