Off the Map: A Rose by Any Other Name IS NOT ROSE

Roast Duck -- Upperline, New Orleans, LA

Upperline

We had such high hopes for Upperline. Boasting an owner with a distinct resemblance, at least in personality and wardrobe, to our beloved Elaine Stritch, we Uber to the place expecting an experience.

One That Is More of an Upper Than a Downer

 Unfortunately, we got one, but not in the way we were anticipating.

In Other Words, a Downer

We are here to eat Simon Majumbar's CRAZY GOOD roast duck from Best Thing I Ever Ate, but since it is our actual dinner time, we're going for the full shebang. 

Let's Pretend We Haven't Been Eating Nonstop for the Past 12 Hours

After being seated behind a table of nuns, we order a sidecar (Whiskey Sour) and a glass of rose (Vodka). And this is where the trouble begins.

Perhaps We Should Have Been Tipped Off by the Alligator Manning the Bar

Believe it or not, for all the griping Vodka and Ginger have done over the years, we very, VERY rarely send drinks back. Food? Yes. Checks? Absolutely. But booze? Booze is usually the saving grace of any meal.

Not at Upperline. 

You Call This... Rose, Do You?

As soon as our waiter returns with our glasses, Vodka eyes the deep ruby color with obvious suspicion.

"It's not white zin," the waiter says, sounding not nearly as comforting as intended.

Words One Never Wants to Hear After Ordering Rose: "White Zin"

Vodka accepts this fact as we order fried green tomatoes, fried oysters, garlic shrimp, and the roast duck. 

A Nice, Light Meal

When In Doubt, Fry It

Once the waiter departs, she takes one sip, and then another. She wills herself to find it progressively more pleasing, but this glass is more "wine cooler" than it is "rose." Sheepishly, she gestures for the waiter to return and, with apology, announces that she cannot drink this wine.

"Fine, get sauvignon blanc," he says.

"I don't like that," Vodka says. "I don't like white."

"Rose is white," he announces, his once genial tone now dripping with condescension.

Um, no buddy, it's not. Rose is rose. And if there is one thing Vodka can guarantee she has drank more of than you over the years, it is rose.

And Thanks to New Orleans Open Container Policies, This Includes Rose To-Go

Vodka settles for a glass of pinot noir, and we begin picking at the day's fourteenth loaf of bread along with our first courses. Both of our appetizers can be described as "fried" -- that's the extent of their memorability. 

"Drowning in Sauce" Would Be Another Description

Similarly, Vodka's shrimp can be summed up as "they're shrimp." 

They Tasted About as Bland as They Look

Granted, we have already eaten five other meals today, so perhaps our enthusiasm for shoving calories in our mouths is waning, but Upperline is not so much resulting in a round of applause as a slow clap.

So Far, Our Highest Compliment Is Over the Preponderance of Tiny Dishes

For Vodka, it is a pleasant change of pace to have someone else willingly order the Best Thing I Ever Ate dish, as she is generally not a huge fan of duck, while Whiskey Sour is. 

Convenient, Since Another Food Vodka Despises Is Sweet Potatoes

The duck itself is very moist and juicy, and Whiskey Sour finds it to be among some of the best she has had. But Vodka, still annoyed about the wine interaction, not that into the duck, and generally underwhelmed by the whole experience, debates the appropriate star rating.

We Haven't Mentioned Our Desserts, Which Sums Up Our Commentary on Them

A Crumble That Our Waiter May or May Not Try to Pass Off as Rose

"If someone were coming to New Orleans to eat duck, I'd recommend this place," Whiskey Sour states."

"That would be a very specific request," Vodka points out. 

And Where, Pray Tell, Would You Send Someone Looking to Eat Cornish Game Hen?

Toward the end of our meal, Upperline's own Elaine Stritch wanders back to our table and asks, "Can I bring you some more hot bread?"

It's Not Like the First Round Was Very Impressive

And for once in our lives, we turn it down.

Upperline's Roast Duck: 2 stars