Of Gumbo, Oysters, & Head-On Shrimp: Essential, Classic New Orleans Eats

Juicy plump barbecue shrimp at Mr. B's Bistro

I have heard people who don't know any better claim that all New Orleans food is the same. "It's all just heavy, saucy stuff," they say. As you may imagine, this generally precipitates a rather stern lecture from me. Yes of course, some, but certainly not all, Creole (and Cajun) food is heavy - but since when is heaviness necessarily a bad thing? Besides, just as with with cocktails, it's all about pacing.


And no: New Orleans food is most definitely not all the same! In this post I am focusing on classic, old school establishments, but there are also many chefs who are experimenting and exploring the boundaries of a new New Orleans cuisine, and I'll talk about a few of them in a future post.

But first, let's talk about one of my very favorite things in the whole world: the barbecue shrimp at Mr. B's Bistro. This is always the first thing that Poppa Trix and I have when we arrive in New Orleans - we practically run there, before we've even unpacked our bags. It's likely doesn't resemble what you may think of as barbecue: Instead, the head-on Gulf shrimp are swimming in a rich broth of garlic, Worcestershire sauce, peppercorns, and butter. And I mean lots and lots of butter. And yes, you need to suck the brains out of those shrimp  - they are sweet! Look again!

Brains!

Note the bread. That is for sopping. And sop you will! You'll need an extra loaf, in fact, and it will arrive with its insides still warm and soft, encased in a thin crackling crust:

When you order this dish, they will bring you a bib. Wear it. You will make a mess.

Another dish you must get at Mr. B's is the gumbo ya-ya. Loaded with chicken and shrimp, the star is the roux. It is perfection ... layers of flavor, finishing with a subtle heat:

 Mmm, mmm happy!

Notice the ribbons around our necks? They had holiday bells attached.  They were given to everyone in the place, and the whole restaurant was jingling!

Don't judge me for what I am about to tell you: Next we had a second lunch. It was small! And it was at Galatoire's, a New Orleans institution:

The recipes  for the Creole dishes at Galatoire's have never changed - in fact, nothing here has changed for over 100 years - and that's what I love about it. They have a dress code, and they mean it. No t-shirts ever, and jackets for men at dinner. No exceptions. There is a story that once, in the dead of the sticky hot New Orleans summer, the air conditioning broke, and the management relaxed its code to allow men to remove their jackets at the table. One man, however, would have none of it: "A gentleman never removes his jacket!" he is said to have exclaimed. Poppa loves to repeat this.

But I have to admire a place that doesn't lower its standards, bend its rules, or change its traditions just to get more customers. It is what is is, and I always say if you don't want to abide by it, there are plenty of other places to go.

Truth be told, though, Poppa and I had a rather disastrous experience here one Friday night in 2008, but in retrospect that was our mistake. We didn't realize that people wait in line starting very early, or even pay ... um, unemployed people ... to wait overnight to save them a spot for Friday lunch. Witness the folks in this queue, which had already formed on Thursday afternoon:

I don't know what's to prevent these guys from selling the spot they've been paid to save to a higher bidder, but I suppose these things run by some sort of code. At any rate, once they get their seat inside people stay all day ... and drink nonstop ... and the Friday lunch turns into the Friday dinner. And things get really, really rowdy. The night that we went, a crowd of guys became so loud and rude and just plain crazy that they caused our server to spill wine on Poppa's jacket, and we could barely hear one another over the din. Not so great when you consider that, as it turns out, it was supposed to be a romantic dinner - the night that Poppa asked me to marry him, in fact! Oh well. It all worked out, eh?

Flash forward. This time we showed up around 2 pm  on a Thursday, just in time to be able to watch as the noises and activity of the space transitioned from the bustle of lunch to the quiet lull before dinner. No one rushed us - we could have sat there all day and night. You already know that we had a couple of Sazeracs each, and we also had some crunchy, zingy shrimp remoulade, one of my favorite renditions ever:

And oysters en brochette, which I though was way too buttery, but Poppa loved:

Then again, you don't come to Galatoire's just for the food - it's about the experience. It's about just being there, and learning (or re-learning) how to sit and take your time about things. Poppa is really good at that!

The next day we had our traditional Friday lunch at Commander's Palace in the Garden District.

We always take a leisurely stroll through Lafayette Cemetery first:

A lady must protect herself from the harsh rays of the sun! And so must I.

 I've already told you about the cocktails we had, and the group of drunk and hilarious restaurant magnates we met there. We were seated next to them in the Garden Room, the place where all the action is!

Yes, those blue ribbons are more holiday bells. Between the bells, the laughter, people breaking into song, and the flowing booze it felt like we had wandered into the best party on earth. Which we had. To top it off, Ti Martin and Chef Tory McPhail were stopping at everyone's table to chat. I should have taken a photo, but I was too in the moment.

Before I show you all of the amazing things we ate, I must let you in on a little secret: the night before, Poppa dropped the camera. He swears he wasn't drunk, and I'll leave it at that. But it did damage the lens (it's since been fixed) but from here on out thanks to a combination of camera damage and booze things aren't quite as sharp in the photo department. Maybe before you continue reading, you should have a little cocktail yourself? Just to even the playing field.

It's a small thing, but this garlic bread is off the hook:

First we shared the boudin stuffed pork belly served over braised greens and pig trotter jus:

Incredible. Next we had some real Commander's Palace classics. I had the turtle soup with sherry:

While Poppa had the absinthe oyster dome:

My powers of food description fail me, because I cannot even begin to describe the subtle yet intense flavor of that absinthe-infused cream. I also thought I wasn't a fan of oysters, but this dish changed my mind.

We then had the wild game bird cassoulet and the Louisiana cochon de lait, or pig in milk. (I believe the dish's origin is in fact Cajun and not Creole.) Do you I have to tell you how good these dishes were? Behold:

Cochon de lait

Cassoulet

At this point I blame the blurry photos on all the booze. We were both pretty tipsy. But I was still able to enjoy the tour of the kitchen and wine cellar our server Nolan took us on. I could not, however, be trusted  to carry the camera. Nolan told us that sometimes they have special reverse wine pairing dinners for 12 where the kitchen makes food designed to pair with the wine.

All told, our lunch lasted a very Creole-like 3 and a half hours. On the way out we ran into one of those guys from the restaurant magnate table - this gentlemen owns at least one country club, I believe:

Believe it or not we did eat dinner that night, but that's for another post. Our other classic bites on our brief (not quite 4 day) trip were the chargrilled oysters at Drago's.

 They cook them over flames and then pour a buttery garlicky cheesy ooze over top. Yum

Truth be told, this place does so much volume that I think they were cleaning their oysters a bit too fast because there was some grit and shell in a few of the oysters. But it's a testament to the garlicky goodness of that sauce that I kind of (almost) didn't care.

Of course we had to get a cafe au lait at the famous Cafe du Monde. Don't care if it's a tourist spot, that chicory coffe is heaven in a cup.

Sorry guys, no room for beignets! And that's that for the classic eats and drinks on this trip. Look for my post on new New Orleans food, plus a little lagniappe later on.

Happy Mardi Gras season!