Posted by Bruce Bilmes and Sue Boyle
, April 17, 2009 17:19
Sunday morning; day two of the Louisiana Roadfood Festival. Having “done” the street festival yesterday we had a little time for brunch before the 1:30 pm round-table, where food authors would discuss “How to Find Roadfood.” This we did not want to miss.
We’d heard very promising reports about EAT, a restaurant supposedly in “the gay section” of the Quarter, on the east side. An easy walk from the Monteleone. And it was just what we were looking for at that particular time: bright and sunny, casual, relaxed, a comfortable neighborhood place serving brunch with a local accent.
For 1980s TV hounds, a General Foods International Coffees moment:
From the flowers on our table, just because:
But then the food started coming. We want to be careful not to overstate it, because it really was not awful, for the most part. Some of it was quite good, like the debris they were calling grillades, a rich beef stew that was served over large but drab cathead biscuits as part of a dish called Eggs Dumaine.
There was hollandaise too, and two eggs that, with a few minutes less time on the heat, might have made decent hard-boiled eggs. Unfortunately, they were supposed to be poached. When we pointed this out to our very nice waitress she said she’d get us a couple of new poached eggs, which never came. Sue went with the Fried Green Tomato Breakfast: bacon, eggs, grits, biscuits, with the tomatoes, which were thickly sliced and still too hard.
The bacon was OK but ordinary and the grits, like all the grits we sampled in this town, were thin and under-seasoned. We have to admit that we’ve become grit snobs. They are a regular part of our diet at home, and we have settled on a favorite grit: those from Nora Mill Granary in Georgia, which we periodically get mailed to us. Fresh, whole-grain grits are an entirely different food from standard supermarket grits. Chefs that serve fancified versions of Southern food usually use them, where they are often enriched with loads of butter or cream or cheese. We can abide supermarket grits, however -- actually quite enjoy them – but they’ve got to be properly salted, in our opinion.
One other food note: the homemade lemonade (but not the watery coffee) was superb! Anyway, our waitress was apologetic about the eggs and offered us dessert on the house. We thanked her for the gesture but we just weren’t in the mood. So when the bill came she told us she comp’d our beverages. We’d give ‘em another chance.
We wanted to be back at the courthouse in time for the roundtable so, with a little time to kill, Sue did some shopping and Bruce ducked into the Absinthe Museum. As he entered, a young woman who looked like she stepped out of a Renoir painting greeted him with a “Bon Jour!” This front room was simply the gift shop, with all sorts of fascinating objets d’absinthe, and some wonderful classic absinthe poster ads. She said they only opened last summer, and they hoped to do some organized absinthe tastings later this year. We definitely have to return sometime to visit the museum.
At the courthouse steps, people were already gathered for the roundtable, at a long table, that included Jane and Michael Stern, Holly Moore, Ed Levine, and authors Sara Roahen (Gumbo Tales) and Pam Lyles (da cajn critter). Michael served as moderator. The theme was How to Find Roadfood.
From left: Sue, Anne, Amy, Michael, Chris, and, lending a touch of Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, looking straight at the camera, Bob (nocarolina).
We especially appreciated one point – was it made by Sara Roahen? – that you have to be willing to eat a lot of not-so-good food. This is so true, but implicit in that idea is that you have to eat in lots and lots of places. That makes sense for professional writers, and even determined amateurs like ourselves, but the difficulty is when people go on one or two trips a year, and don’t eat six lunches and spend all day driving the back roads looking for something interesting. People like that just don’t feel they can afford to be burned that often, in money or time. They want every meal to be memorable (if they care about food at all – many people don’t). And for them, there’s no shame in following in the footsteps of those they trust.
Pam, Ed, and Michael
Jane, Sara, and Holly
Concierges were getting hit pretty hard – nobody felt they were the right people to consult when travelling – and it just so happened that a concierge for the local Ritz-Carlton was in the audience. She was invited to speak, to present that side of the equation, and it was fascinating. Other interesting moments: a few panelists confessed to enjoying Chick-fil-A sandwiches; Ed Levine declared, as if it was an accepted fact, that the best pizza made in America can be found at Chris Bianco’s Phoenix place; and Jane and Michael were praised by many of the others as inspirations and pioneers. Very worthwhile and lots of fun!
Notes for future years: a better sound system is necessary, and there needs to be some way to separate the panel further from the vending trucks. The rumble of the Purple Truck across the street made it difficult to hear the speakers, especially for those sitting to the side on the courthouse steps.
We shared some cracklins and Lasyone’s pies with Elise and Bob and then were on our way. Dinner Sunday night was at Gumbo Shop, a short walk from the hotel. The building the restaurant resides in goes back to the 18th century, the restaurant not quite that far. We wouldn’t recommend everyone carve out time in their travel plans to visit the Gumbo Shop, but if you’re dining casually in the French Quarter we think it’s one of the better choices; mostly, but not all, tourists. Be sure to ask for a courtyard table.
Gumbo is, in fact, the best thing to order. Both the seafood and chicken versions are good.
Bread pudding with a VERY sweet sauce.
Coming up… Don’t Forget to Baste That Pie With Melted Butter! and Are You Hungry Tonight?
