Goodies First

Aug 8

Willie Mae’s Scotch House

1/2 I was recently talking with a trade mag writer and got on the topic of pizza, burger and fried chicken mania. He didn’t get it and was of a burger is a burger why overanalyze it mentality. I tend to agree (says she who photographs 85% of her restaurant meals). I just can’t get into the nuances of a pizza slice, and frankly, don’t have strong opinions on these American classics. I’m forgiving on the mediocre end—I can’t think of a particularly bad burger that I’ve eaten.

But on the rare occasion that I encounter an exemplary version of a foodstuff, I certainly recognize it. Willie Mae’s Scotch House, the no-secret-to-anyone restaurant just a handful of streetcar stops from The French Quarter, squeezes in the crowds during their narrow four-hours-a-day operating window. And it’s not just touristy hype.

I ate a lot of fried chicken over our long New Orleans weekend: fast food-style at Popeye’s and even lower brow at Brother’s, a 24-hour convenience store near our hotel. It was all pretty good. But nothing matched the pure golden perfection of this three-piece plate.

The crust is substantial, but not superfluous or heavy despite its strong presence. I don’t know if it’s the seasoning (neither too salty or peppery) or the cast-iron pan frying that makes the skin and batter meld into a single, flaky entity. Greaseless is often an adjective used to describe stellar fried chicken. These drumsticks and breasts were oily, grease was present (James wrapped up my third uneaten piece in napkins and stuck it in his bag and it soaked right through its paper wrapping) and there was nothing wrong with that. The meat stayed juicy. Normally, I’m ho hum on chicken breasts but the one I saved to eat in the middle of the night was still moist and the skin hadn’t turned blah and flabby.

Soupy butter beans are a classic side. I regret not ordering a biscuit, too.

So, now I have a benchmark and I’m spoiled. I’ve yet to eat any fried chicken in NYC that matches Wille Mae’s. Ok, that’s not saying much since I actively avoid crowds and long waits, particularly in one corner of Brooklyn. I will build up my tolerance and see if Pies ‘n’ Thighs and The Commodore deliver the sublime experience everyone says they do.

Willie Mae’s Scotch House * 2401 Saint Ann St., New Orleans, LA

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Aug 8

Sour Grapes

I live in Texas where the customer is always right; therefore I’m unduly concerned about one wine bar in a city with zillions of other options being un-American by only offering Riesling by the glass for a few months. You deserve to go out of business. Also, I hope that everyone in the Big Apple chokes and dies on a big grape from the Rhine.

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Aug 6

Not the New Cupcake

I'm going to be in the Bay Area over Labor Day weekend and mini doughnuts (my first inclination was to agree with the angry commenters crying bullshit over what look to be no more than standard doughnut holes, a.k.a. munchkins) will certainly not be on my eating agenda. If someone were to propose marriage by slipping one of these Lilliputian pastries onto my finger, I would stab them in the eye.

Ring photo from pinc.stuff

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Aug 4

No Fakin’, it’s a Turcaken

As many great ideas do, the Turcaken arose from a joke. I think it initially had something to do with Twitter and trying to come up with the cocktail equivalent of a turducken.

All I know is that I wanted a Turcaken for my birthday and got one. The interpretation was left up to Jane, a friend and cake master.

I was not disappointed. The result was yellow cake surrounding cherry pie surrounding Oreos. The exterior remained springy while the inner strata had nearly compressed into a single gooey unit. Sweet and then some.

The only way it could possibly be improved upon would be if it were battered and deep fried.

This morning I awoke to hear about a new cakey creature, the Cherpumple! The hybrids will not be stopped.

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Aug 3

Chain Links: Broasted Chicken

“Mucho Burrito provides customers with fresh and authentic Mexican food in a contemporary and casual setting.” It’s also Canadian and spreading to Oman. Now the Middle East will be able to experience taco salads served in fried tortilla bowls. The parent company, Extreme Brandz, will also be exporting their Extreme Pita and Pur Blendz concepts. Hopefully, Oman residents won’t get the idea that all North Americans substitute Z’s for S’s. [Fast Casual]

It’s not often you hear about a Malaysian chain coming to the U.S. I would love to try SugarBun, but sadly it’s opening in Quincy, Missouri. The bizarre thing about their wide-ranging menu is that they serve “broasted” chicken, which I thought was an Oregon anomaly (it’s not). [The Star].

I’ve been to Singapore third times now, and every time I debate whether I should try the Hooters. Maybe next time. My (semi) point being that Hooters isn’t new to Asia. Now, they are bringing wings and tight tank tops to Turkey, India and Japan. [WSJ]

T.G.I. Friday’s is on a “Ambition 2015” bender that involves “expanding the brand to nearly 1,100 locations in more than 60 countries” by that date. [Minneapolis/St. Paul Business Journal]

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Aug 2

The Opposite of Hospitaliano

Today, I’ve seen a few mentions of the guy who called and menaced a Wendy’s after robbing them because he wasn’t happy with the sum they had on hand.

As far as ballsy and stupid, I kind of prefer the man who met a woman in an Olive Garden parking lot (sounds more like a casual encounter than a legitimate date, though I know little about the mating rituals in Fort Walton Beach, Florida) only to rob her and spend the money in the Olive Garden.

She claims it was $90, he says $50. Either way, that’s a lot of breadsticks.

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Aug 1

Commander’s Palace

Bold turquoise with turrets, white trim and jaunty stripes like a birthday cake of wood and shingles, as popular with men in bowties as with visitors flaunting the jackets preferred rule (purposely or not, I'm not sure), Commander's Palace is exactly the type of Tavern on the Green restaurant I avoided on my previous two visits to New Orleans. Now older and more nuanced, I can respect frippery. My last trip in 2004 I stayed at loft 523; this time, Le Pavillon, where I'm still marveling over a fireplace being employed in sweat-drenching July to evoke grandness, air conditioning bills be damned.

And the food wasn’t bad. It’s way over the top, though. When people ask, “What was the food like in New Orleans?” I think of this appetizer. The brunch includes a starter, entrée and dessert. I only ate this last weekend and I’ve forgotten the exact components because the fat clouded my brain (or maybe all those sazeracs caught up with me).

It was all a bloody mary-fueled blur of creamy, starchy foundations, eggs and multiple sauces crowned by fried bits. What I distinctly remember is that the hollandaise is made with bacon fat! Take that. And I did (which is why I’m trying to eat light and fresh as possible during August—I need to lay low nutritionally so I can overindulge again while in San Francisco over Labor Day). There is also cheesy garlic bread served with more butter.

That would’ve been plenty, but the main dish was still to come. Shrimp and goat cheese grits. What I wasn’t expecting were the mild hoisin and ginger flavors.

Eggs cochon de lait—a signature brunch dish—hits all the decadent notes, and hard: suckling pig “debris,” gravy, flaky biscuits, poached eggs and…bourbon-bacon fat hollandaise. I couldn’t even try one bite of this because my shrimp and grits had knocked me into a savory stupor.

I rarely order dessert anymore. Declining isn’t an option at Commander’s Palace, though. If I am going to do a sweet course, New Orleans is the place to do it because they showcase my favorite flavors. I’ll always choose nutty and caramelly over chocolatey or fruity. Ok, there was chocolate in this pecan pie, but it was all about the buttery goo and the fleur de sel caramel sauce added just enough dimension to keep me from dutifully eating one bite and calling it a day.

The balloons in the garden room (definitely worth requesting for the tree house effect) weren’t for a party. It’s always a party at Commander’s Palace. The roving jazz trio played “Happy Birthday” twice, and I didn’t have the heart to make them play it a third when they asked if I had any requests. I’m afraid that I came across New York brusque when I said no, but it was more a matter of having no idea what would be appropriate to ask for. After they broke into “Blue Skies” I had a better idea of their repertoire.

Commander's Palace * 1403 Washington Ave., New Orleans, LA

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Jul 28

Outclassed

Ok, tenth anniversaries aren't exactly the same as marriage proposals, but I take my rings embedded in food where I can find them. Teresa, one of the lovely housewives of New Jersey was presented a yellow diamond tucked into a chocolate molten cake. It's somehow fitting that one of the most classy demonstrations of affection comes right along with one of the most classy* desserts.

Also, I was a little disappointed that an elaborate proposal took place right at Williamsburg's newish Loreley, and food wasn't employed in any fashion. Bratwursts are ideal ring delivery vehicles.

*Such a troubled word. My favorite reporter question when I briefly worked as a librarian at the New York Post was, "Is mahogany a classy wood?" I'm still not sure.

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Jul 27

The Bee’s Knees

I didn't sense a large chain restaurant presence at Tales of the Cocktail. In fact, the only one that seemed to participating in any of the programs was Bonefish Grill. Fortuitous, because they are one of my favorites.

"Bonefish Grill’s Search for the Best Cocktail Featuring a New Spirit" wasn't really for the public (I did poke my head in) or for the average bartender (I just can't say mixologist). The competition was for liquor brands that had been launched within the past year to come up with a cocktail to be featured on Bonefish's menu.

And that's the twisted thing about my relationship to Bonefish Grill. Highly suburban, the seafood chain (whose nearest location, Secaucus, is eight miles from my apartment—I prefer to drive the 17 miles to Iselin) "invites guests to enjoy a 'big city bar' in their own backyards."

Yet, I live a short subway ride away from Manhattan's cocktail heavy hitters like this year's best cocktail bar in the country, Death & Co., and walking distance to Clover Club (also a nominee). There is no shortage of $12+ beverages using herbs, tinctures and homemade bitters in my environs.

The weekend before last, I took advantage of my free Bang Bang Shrimp birthday gift card in East Brunswick and was looking forward to some of their oddly priced $6.90 cocktails. I wouldn't necessarily call a list of martinis, all but one of the 12 sweet and/or fruity, "big city," though. Second-tier city?

I do see what they're going for. My Bee's Knees Martini was flavored with honey and lemon juice and garnished with a basil leaf. They'd only need to lose the martini glass and swap gin for the vodka to get something more appropriately old-timey and historic. But of course, fedoras, moustaches and suspenders aren't exactly de rigueur in Witchita or Boise (at least I hope not). Bonefish states that they are "blending our country's rich cocktail history with inventive, modern twists." They know their audience.

Square One Botanical Spirit, a vodka made from organic American rye and infused with "pear, rose, chamomile, lemon verbena, lavender, rosemary, coriander and citrus peel," won their sponsored contest. The winning cocktail, however, wasn't announced. I'd love to know what it is and I'd order one even though it will likely be sweet and fruity.

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Jul 21

Let the Good Times Roll

I'm off to New Orleans for a long weekend because, you know, it's just not disgustingly hot and humid enough here for my taste. I'm going sort of to attend some Tales of the Cocktail events, sort of to eat (will there be edible oysters and shrimp) and sort of to celbrate my birthday even though I'm coming back Sunday, the day of.

In the interim, check out my latest International Fast Food column about Nooi, a new French pasta chain. Vapiano, the new German pasta chain, is also in my sights. I don't even like pasta that much, but I've got to see what these foreigners are up to.

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Willie Mae’s Scotch House

Sour Grapes

Not the New Cupcake

No Fakin’, it’s a Turcaken

Chain Links: Broasted Chicken

The Opposite of Hospitaliano

Commander’s Palace

Outclassed

The Bee’s Knees

Let the Good Times Roll

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