Ham recently went on a research trip for work to New Orleans. I stayed behind to care for our fuzzy idiots, so he took lots of photos and filled me in on everything he ate. He's taking over this newsletter to tell us about some of his favorite spots. Now, as the New Orleanians say (or at least what the tourism board has led me to believe they all say): "laissez les bon temps rouler!"
I recently came back from a stomach stretching research trip in New Orleans. I was only there for four days (well, five, my return flight got canceled while I was on the tarmac), but I completely lost all concept of time because we had about four meals a day. We would pack in a few dozen raw or cooked oysters before noon and follow it up with a po'boy spot or another raw bar before returning to the hotel to digest (and a humidity-battling frigid shower). Early evening meant other seafood-oriented bites before ending the night with a full meal at one of the many NOLA institutions like Galatoires, Arnaud's, or Mosquito Supper Club. Since it was peak sweltering heat in July, there weren't a lot of tourists. We had a chance to explore all the classics without much hassle and check out a few new places that I'm sure will be added to the classics list soon enough. These were my three favorite spots of the trip:
Willie Mae's Scotch House
I love fried chicken; it has been a prominent part of my life for as long as I can remember. My favorite fried chicken spot was Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken in Memphis, Tennessee, but Willie Mae's has shot up my list to share the top spot.
The chicken is fried in a wet batter, leaving a crunchy thin shell that allows the moist, perfectly seasoned chicken to shine. This was some of the best seasoned chicken I have ever had. I am not a big cartilage eater (I leave those bits for Sohla), but I gnawed on those bones until nothing was left.
Often, many incredible fried chicken or BBQ spots end up with sides that are lacking—not the case with Willie Mae's. The sides are just as good as the fried chicken. I loved the crisp fried okra, fluffy cornbread muffins, and creamy red beans and rice, but the impossibly buttery lima beans stole the (side)show.
Mosquito Supper Club
Mosquito Supper Club was one of the most memorable tasting menu experiences ever. It captured the sense of welcoming and hospitality that I saw throughout New Orleans. When we pulled up, I spent a minute looking around, trying to locate the restaurant, then realized that the restaurant was inside a house. Not a repurposed house that was a restaurant on the inside, but an actual house. Walking into the dining room, I saw a long table, then realized that it would be a communal experience like an actual supper club.
This is almost unheard of for a tasting menu and New York City (we hate touching elbows with strangers). We didn't even get our own plated dishes, everything was served family style, and we helped ourselves, forcing conversations with the other guests. The entire experience had a layer of warmth I hadn't experienced before. Some fine dining restaurants (at least in NYC) aim for such a polished experience that you feel like perfectly programmed androids are serving you. At Mosquito Supper Club, I felt attended to, but I still felt like I was having dinner at somebody's house (because I was!).
The food lovingly showcased local seafood and produce through the lens of chef/owner Melissa Martin's upbringing and traditions. Here I had my favorite dish of the entire trip: a lightly pickled shrimp, watermelon, and sunflower seed salad. The texture of the snappy shrimp against the puckeringly sour watermelon with the delicate crunch of sunflower seeds was the perfect combination. We reminisced about that dish every day for the rest of the trip.
Other highlights include a deceptively light sweet potato biscuit with Steen's butter and a "crabcake" made with local crab mixed with shrimp (no other binder!). Dessert was a complete surprise, with a satisfyingly dense, chewy dumpling slathered in a bright blackberry sauce with scoops of impeccably salted buttermilk ice cream.
Cochon Butcher
As an appreciator of everything pork, Cochon Butcher was high on my list of places to check out. We didn't have time to include it in our initial trip itinerary, but luckily fate took control. Our flight back was canceled due to inclement weather in NYC, and boom, Cochon Butcher became our next stop, bags and all.
Cochon Butcher has complete control over everything on their menu. They bake all their bread at their sister restaurant La Boulangerie. They make all their charcuterie in-house from carefully sourced, happy pigs. And they make all their accouterments, from pickles to mustard. We tried a selection of their house-made sausages and charcuterie, and I had their version of an Italian combo. My favorite Italian combo comes from Court Street Grocers. Still, this version, with its generous pile of Italian cold cuts, crusty bread yielding to a pillowy interior, and fiery giardiniera, rivals it for the top spot.
My favorite of all the charcuterie was the headcheese. It was perfectly jiggly with well-seasoned and tempered pork fat coating my palate in the most pleasant of ways. I also really enjoyed their boudin, and my Louisiana native friend told me that the thicker casing means that you eat boudin by pressing it out of the casing and eating the interior. The interior had the consistency of a well-made risotto and burst with the flavors of pork, trinity, and a mild underlying heat. I could've easily come back with a suitcase full of their charcuterie but limited myself to a pound of Tasso ham.
I see why many people label New Orleans as an essential food city. I love how so many of the restaurants there embrace their local ingredients. Depending on where you go, you can find those ingredients prepared in the same way they have been for generations or with a modern flair. I also must mention the vast difference in pricing compared to New York City. I was wide-eyed at the plentiful seafood towers $50 will get you. Would I go back? Absolutely! These three restaurants were my favorite bites, but we also had outstanding meals at Miss River and Peche. And to be honest, another plate of dark meat fried chicken at Willie Mae's is worth another trip on its own.