Off the Map: Honey, I Shrunk Your Beignet Order

Blue Crab Beignets - La Petite Grocery, New Orleans, LA

La Petite Grocery

To be fair, we admit that our issue was right there in the title: SMALL PLATES, BIG TASTE. That is the Best Thing I Ever Ate episode on which Alex Guarnaschelli featured the blue crab beignets from Le Petite Grocery in New Orleans. So perhaps we should have heeded the warning on the whole "small plates" of it all. But what the episode title should have also included was the phrase "GIANT PRICETAG."

Apparently You Have to Pay a Lot More Coins for a James Beard Award

Look, Vodka lives in New York City. She is rarely shocked by restaurant prices outside of the Big Apple, because at worst, they tend to be on par with what she's used to. But said blue crab beignets cost $21, and there are exactly three (3) of them served on the plate. That is $7 each for an item roughly the size of an engorged tater tot!

We Could Buy Three Dunkin' Donuts for the Cost of One of These Suckers!

Were the blue crab beignets tasty? Sure. Was the accompanying malt vinegar aioli a pleasing addition? Yeah, okay. Was each one worth the price of an egg and cheese sandwich in New York City? Absolutely not.

Also, the Presentation-Via-Napkin Leaves Something to Be Desired

The rest of our meal at La Petite Grocery was pleasant enough, but clearly not so much that Vodka took any notes about it (so guess for yourself what these dishes are). 

Whatever They Were, They Probably Cost Less Than the Beignets

Mystery Shrimp and Grits

The butterscotch pudding was the highlight of the evening, though even that is described on the menu as being served alongside "cookies," when we received... a single cookie. (At $10, this is still a far better bang for your buck than those pesky beignets, even if half the promised cookies got left behind.)

The Cookies Are In the Kitchen with the Rest of Our Beignets

Overall, perhaps it is best that Vodka, due to her lack of access to the Cooking Channel, cannot watch these new episodes of Best Thing I Ever Ate, as the dishes from this second incarnation of the program have been decidedly more lackluster than their previous counterparts. Still, New Orleans remains one of the top culinary mainstays of any city we have ever visited... just not at New York City prices.

La Petite Grocery's Blue Crab Beignets: 3 stars

Off the Map: But Where Are the Nachos?

Cracklin' Nachos - Kingfish, New Orleans, LA

Kingfish

Here's the thing to know about nachos: They are Vodka's kryptonite. There have been many a night in the restaurants of New York City where Vodka (after a solid serving of vodka itself) has requested the kitchen draw up a plate of salted chips, melted cheese, and a heap of sour cream (whether or not said kitchen actually has nachos on the menu). So imagine her excitement when she saw that one of the new Best Thing I Ever Ate New Orleans dishes was one featuring the word "nachos" in the title.

The Beverage That Typically Leads to Nacho Consumption

Spoiler alert: They were not, in fact, nachos. 

Womp Womp

After a rousing trip on a swamp tour (where we were the only customers, and thankfully only spotted 1.5 alligators), Vodka and Whiskey Sour head to Kingfish to try Marc Murphy's chosen STACKED dish, the pork cracklin' nachos.

"Swamp Tour" Is a Phrase Vodka Never Thought Would Appear on One of Her Travel Itineraries

Now, when Vodka read this title, she (perhaps stupidly) assumed that a platter of tortilla chips would arrive piled with the usual nacho toppings, as well as some pulled pork and crumbled up cracklin'. Instead, what appears is what the title actually reads: pork cracklin' nachos. The cracklins are the "nachos." There are no chips. The chips are the cracklins and the cracklins are the chips.

First Impression: Please Return to Sender

Vodka has had cracklins exactly once in her life, when she and Ginger visited Chicago, and she has never felt the need to consume them again. And indeed, upon first taste of these nachos, her fears prove worthy - the cracklin is SO CRACKLIN that she's convinced she's about to chip a molar. However, as we make our way through the dish, most of the cracklins themselves are thankfully less teeth-breakingly crunchy, and the results are a somewhat pleasing, though definitely not expected, offering.

And We're Also Going to Need About Ten More Helpings of Sour Cream

These "nachos" come topped with pulled pork, pimento cheese sauce, pickles, tomatoes, poblanos, and sour cream. Frankly, the condiments are a little sparse, especially because the more saturated cracklins are easier to chew. We decide that this would be a gratifying dish when either drunk (i.e. when Vodka is most prone to order nachos) or hungover, though it could definitely use an added spice from sliced jalapenos (the poblanos just don't pack the same level of punch).

In Positive News, We Once Again Managed to Dine Alone

Overall, while we appreciate the inventiveness of this play on nachos, they don't stack up to the real thing. After all, with our garden variety nachos, we don't typically need to check that all our teeth are still intact upon exiting the premises.

Kingfish's Cracklin' Nachos: 3 stars

Off the Map: The Great Oyster Escape

The Peacemaker - Mahony's Po-Boys, New Orleans, LA

Mahony's Po-Boys

During their last jaunt to New Orleans, Vodka and her college roommate, Whiskey Sour, tasted the gold standard of po-boys at Domilise's Po-Boy and Bar. The only reasons they opted out of making a return visit to Domilise's fried shrimp palace are a) a lack of willingness to wait in their line, and b) the quest to be "adventurous" and try something new. This would prove to be a poor decision.

Mahony's: Where Nobody Knows Our Name and Is Not Particularly Pleased We Came

In place of Domilise's, we trek off via St. Charles streetcar to Mahony's Po-Boys, home of The Peacemaker, which Aaron Sanchez spoke of during the SANDWICH HALL OF FAME episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate. The Peacemaker features fried shrimp and oysters, along with bacon and cheddar cheese. Because the large size is the better deal ($26 versus the half-sandwich's $17), we each opt for our own sandwich... which ends up being a good move, as Vodka immediately dumps a solid portion of hers on the floor.

Oyster Down

To blame the carb and not the carb-eater, the bread which Mahony's uses for their po-boys is much less pliable, much more crumbly, and, dare we say, much less fresh than that used at Domilise's. Because of these qualities, it does not scoop around the (packed in) sandwich components nearly as well, which is how Vodka loses an oyster within seconds of her first bite.

Too Much of a Not-Very-Good Thing

This loss would prove to be fortuitous, as the oysters themselves are off-putting at best, and downright fishy at worst. In fact, Vodka ends up scooping all of the ones that didn't fall to the ground back into the basket, and eventually does the same with the bacon, which she deems an unnecessary addition.

Did We Really Need ANOTHER Protein Source?

While Domilise's may always have the upper-hand for us where po-boys are concerned, due not just to their quality but also to how unexpectedly amazing we found the entire enterprise ("how can this possibly be so good?!"), Mahony's effort truly pales in comparison. Vodka eventually gives up entirely, leaving practically a loaf of bread and a family of oysters behind, while Whiskey Sour, never one to waste food, wraps up the remainder of hers in the provided wax paper.

Nothing Says 'New Orleans' Like Strolling the Streets with an Oyster in Your Purse

In fact, the more distant Mahony's Peacemaker floats into our past, the more sour our memory of it turns. By nightfall, we downgrade it from a respectable, if unshowy, 3 stars to barely a 2. And in retrospect, it is possibly one of the worst things we have ever eaten in New Orleans.

When Absence Does Not, In Fact, Make the Heart Grow Fonder

Proof, we suppose, that "adventure" doesn't have to mean trudging down a new road to a novel location, but rather deigning to wait in line for something you know will be worth the journey.

Mahony's Po-Boys's The Peacemaker: 2 stars

Off the Map: Return to the Big Easy

Cookies + Milk - Willa Jean, New Orleans, LA

Willa Jean

It has been five years since Vodka and her college roommate, Whiskey Sour, made their inaugural trek to New Orleans, and quickly fell in love with the all the spirit, food, and roadie beverages the city had to offer. 

Hello, Old Friend

Since that initial visit, a brand new version of Best Thing I Ever Ate has launched in the world - one Vodka has unfortunately never seen because her cable company will not allow her to add JUST the Cooking Channel to her package. However, thanks to the internets, we are able to hit up some of the new hotspots - and/or hot dishes - that the Food Network stars have recommended.

Best Thing I Ever Ate, New Orleans, The Sequel

Up first is Willa Jean, a place we tried to go to for breakfast during our last trip, but unfortunately found it completely packed. Due to this historical precedent, we arrive promptly on a weekday morning... and find the place totally empty.

"How Long's the Wait for a Table?"

We are supposed to be consuming the Cookies + Milk, as recommended by Aaron Sanchez on the PICTURE PERFECT episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate. 

A Well-Rounded Breakfast

We had assumed we wouldn't be able to order this dish, as it wasn't featured on the online breakfast menu, but a quick perusal of the corresponding "counter menu" shows that we can in fact order said cookies at 7:30am... if we are seated at the counter. Perhaps because we are still the only customers populating the place, our waitress lets us know that we won't actually have to vacate our table, and we add a little dessert to our already robust breakfast choices (WJ breakfast for Vodka, and the crab omelette for Whiskey Sour).

Not a Hint of Greenery in Sight

Our meals are incredibly decadent - the biscuits a particular highlight, and in their layered texture, a bit croissant-like in execution. The cookies are similarly extremely well executed - both crunchy and gooey, served appropriately warm for proper dunking within the corresponding milk. But they are more of the standard chocolate chip cookie fare instead of particularly unique or exotic. As it happens, the milk itself is what really makes the dish - called vanilla milk on the menu, it tastes more like cereal or marshmallow milk to our (not so discerning) palates. And the combination of the milk + cookie is quite satisfying.

A Cookie Monster Dreamscape

The plate also comes with a ball of raw cookie dough, which is much less appealing - cloyingly sweet, neither one of us manage more than one dainty bite. And while we would absolutely hightail it back to Willa Jean for our next jaunt to New Orleans, the cookies + milk would not necessarily make the cut for a future order - eating our weight's worth in a biscuit sampling seems more likely.

 Mind Your Own Biscuits and Life Will be Gravy

We depart Willa Jean with a biscuit in one handbag, a cookie in another, a cup of milk clutched in Whiskey Sour's hand, and the certainty that five years on, New Orleans has not lost its ability to delight us.

Willa Jean's Cookies + Milk: 4 stars

Off the Map: Feeling Crabby in NOLA

Creole Bread Pudding Souffle -- Commander's Palace, New Orleans, LA

Commander's Palace

For our final evening in the Big Easy, Vodka and Whiskey Sour set out for Commander's Palace, arguably the most "classic" (and famous) of New Orleans restaurants. 

And Also the Most Turquoise

As we had just heard on our afternoon walking tour of the Garden District, Commander's Palace is constantly praised for not only their food, but for their level of service.

Hence the Three Waiters Gathered Around a Table at Any Given Time

Let's just say this is going to be an interesting evening.

Let the Wining and Dining Begin... and the Whining

Things start out innocently enough: We are greeted by a genial gentlemen at the front desk, and then led through the maze of the restaurant: through the kitchen, across a patio, and finally to our table... which is directly next to red door brandished with the lettering EMERGENCY EXIT.

It's Like They Know We're Going to Be Trouble

The hostess runs off to find Whiskey Sour a black napkin to match her dress, while Vodka turns all of her attention to the cocktail menu. 

Priorities, People

Before she can blurt out, "TWO SAZERACS, AND STAT," our waiter descends upon us, and he is, to put it mildly, "a lot." He sways in place while speaking at full volume about the assortment of ordering options available to us (a la carte, three-course, seven course, twenty-eight course -- who knows, Vodka just wants a cocktail).

Let's Go, This New Orleans Night Isn't Getting Any Longer

While we await our booze, we settle on the gumbo and filet (Vodka) and the crawfish soup and shrimp (Whiskey Sour), plus Claire Robinson's Best Thing I Ever Ate NEW ORLEANS dish, the creole bread pudding souffle, for dessert.

Notably, We Are Not Getting the Dessert That Requires ACTUAL FIRE

After ordering, we sip our sazeracs and begin what will turn out to be quite the foreshadowing conversation on how ridiculous things tend to happen to us, both separately and when we are together. As we are regaling one another with past examples of such shenanigans, two servers approach and place a soup bowl before each of us. Then, with a flourish, they produce tin cups full of our piping-hot soups, and pour them into their respective bowls.

All Good, Nothing to See Here OH WAIT

Sorry, let me rephrase: Whiskey Sour's server pours her soup into the bowl; in contrast, Vodka's pours her gumbo ONTO VODKA.

Unfortunately, Photographic Evidence Was Not Captured, Save for the Dribble on the Rim

Instead of executing the swirling technique of his counterpart, Vodka's server merely DUMPS the gumbo in the direction of the bowl, causing one large piece of crab to splash over the side and land, with a great deal of accompanying drizzle, on Vodka's lap. 

Perhaps the Crab Was Making a Run for the Emergency Exit

So startled by his gaffe that he presumably loses all muscle control, the server then drops the tin cup INTO the gumbo, causing another tidal wave of soup to hit the table cloth.

We Really and Truly Could Not Make This Stuff Up

At this point, two things happen: Vodka and Whiskey Sour begin laughing hysterically, and the servers RUN AWAY.

They leave!

Moments later, as giggling-induced tears slide out the corners of our eyes, a manager appears and immediately begins profusely apologizing for the blunder, explaining that "Marvin" has only been a server for two days and is so embarrassed by what happened. She offers to pay for any needed dry cleaning, and we, still in good humor, laugh off the incident as another example of our collective ridiculousness come to life.

More on This Circumstance Later

After she leaves, we see that garlic bread has somehow made it to our table ("I didn't notice this appearing." "They snuck it in while you were being attacked.") 

A Small Consolation After the Soup Monsoon

The bread is tasty enough -- it's garlic bread, after all, and fairly difficult to screw up. Similarly, our soups are good, but rather beside the point at this juncture (and Vodka is confused as to why her gumbo doesn't feature rice, unless Marvin dumped that somewhere else in the dining room.)

Our 57th New Orleans Loaf of Bread

A different waiter approaches and, pointing to Vodka's empty sazerac glass, asks if she'd care for a glass of wine.

"I'd care for a Tide pen," she quips under her breath, while settling for a glass of rose. 

Thankfully, Marvin Does Not Serve Our Entrees

It's important to know that throughout these proceedings, a portion of our general cheeriness is stemming from the fact that we are downright certain our bill is about to be discounted. After all, Vodka got doused in gumbo at a place that we have been told repeatedly is "renowned for their service" -- they're at least going to throw in this glass of rose for free.

Or at the Very Least, a Tide Pen

Therefore, we remain in fine spirits through our entrees, which are okay, but not overwhelmingly stellar. Vodka ends up leaving half of her filet behind, and not only because this is our fourth meal of the day. 

Just Not That Into It

Now, it is finally time for the main event: the bread pudding souffle that is apparently such an ordeal that customers are required to order it at the beginning of their meals so that the kitchen has ample time to prepare it.

Ordeal in a Ramekin

The bread pudding souffle arrives, and a new server cracks the surface and pours in a portion of the accompanying sauce.

It Seems Marvin's Pouring Privileges Have Been Revoked for the Evening

We dig in our spoons eagerly and wait for the magic to hit our taste buds.

And we keep right on waiting.

Any Day Now, the Majesty Will Hit

The souffle is, well, it is not great. It's not even remotely good. The bread pudding portion itself has very little flavor, while the accompanying sauce reeks, both in taste and in smell, of alcohol. Like, of straight, rubbing alcohol. It is off-putting to say the least.

From Now On, Keep the Booze in Our Cocktail Glasses, Thanks

There are also unidentifiable crunchy bits throughout the concoction, or at least Vodka finds one.

"Does it have pecans?"

"What, there's nothing crunchy."

"I got something crunchy."

"Maybe you lost a tooth."

Talk About a Rough Night at Commander's Palace

We are unimpressed by the souffle but not hostile about it. No, the hostility does not strike until we receive our bill, and find that nothing -- NOTHING -- has been comped. Not a cocktail, not the dessert, NOT EVEN THE GUMBO THAT GOT POURED ON VODKA'S LAP.

WHAT IS THIS INJUSTICE?

Renowned for your service indeed, Commander's Palace!

Not wishing to end our final hours in New Orleans engaged in an epic battle, Vodka sets her mouth into a firm line but keeps it closed, and we pay the bill without (public) complaint. Overall, for us, Commander's Palace had the distinct honor of feeling like a restaurant that is trying too hard with too little results. But our time in the Big Easy is dwindling and we don't want to waste it away belaboring the place's faults.

There Is Only One Solution to This Problem, and Its Name is Gnocchi

So instead, we set off for a return trip to Restaurant August, where the gnocchi is scrumptious, the desserts are free, and no one is throwing gumbo at us. And once we dive back into the pasta whose crab mercifully remains in its bowl, all is once again right in the world of New Orleans.

Commander's Palace Creole Bread Pudding Souffle: 2 stars

Off the Map: Bread Pudding with a Side of Rum(my)

Bread Pudding -- Mother's Restaurant, New Orleans, LA

Mother's Restaurant

If you need a surefire sign that you look like a tourist who does not know the ways of the local sandwich shop, it is when you enter the place and immediately get a menu thrust in your hand and a pointing finger indicating where you should order.

Thank You, Yes, We Are In Fact Idiots

This is how we are greeted, not unkindly, when we arrive at Mother's Restaurant for Sunny Anderson's Best Thing I Ever Ate GUILTY PLEASURE, the bread pudding. 

Wall of... "Fame"?

Along with the dessert, we are also each buying a po boy to consume during our early morning flights the next day: shrimp for Whiskey Sour (to properly compare to the Domilise variety) and roast beef for Vodka.

Because Nothing Say "Bon Voyage" Like the TSA Patting Down Your Sandwich

While we arrive to a relatively empty restaurant, a sizable crowd enters right after us, making us even more pleased to skedaddle out clutching our po boys and bread pudding in the direction of the nearest bar.

No Offense, Mother's, but We Only Have a Few Hours of Day Drinking Left

We settle down in the lobby of a hotel and, after grabbing some afternoon cocktails, hoist the bread pudding out of the bag in an attempt to at least try it while it's still warm. 

Instagram-Worthy Plating?

In truth, we are not optimistic about this enterprise, as neither of us are overly fond of bread pudding, and Mother's version does not look particularly appetizing. 

Bread Pudding Is the Snaggletooth of Desserts

Reluctantly, we stick our utensils into the plastic container and raise them unenthusiastically into our mouths.

"Hmph. It's not bad," Whiskey Sour notes with a distinct tone of surprise.

It, at the Very Least, Is Better Than It Looks

Indeed, of the (very few) bread puddings we have tried in our lives, this is some of the best: the bread is light, the sauce isn't too sweet, and the whole conglomeration isn't very sticky. After expecting to toss the majority of it in the trash, we end up polishing off the entire container.

A Spoonful of Bread Pudding Makes the Sazeracs Go Down

In contrast, we do not find the po boys anywhere near the level of those found at Domilise's. But the bread pudding, while enjoyed with a side of sazerac and a game of rummy, is an unexpected delight.

Come for the Rum, Stay for the Rummy

Not a delight we feel the need to ever consume again, but a delight nonetheless.

Mother's Restaurant's Bread Pudding: 3 stars