It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Although I firmly believe that Christmas music season started a month ago, when the Jewish holidays ended, the world and I are now in sync and the Christmas season is indeed upon us. For Katherine C. and I this means a trip to the annual Christmas Fair hosted by the Danish Seamen's Church in Brooklyn. This year we went only for the food, but there is also a fun market of holiday-themed crafts and various cute gifts.

Food options included open faced sandwiches (some alarmingly heavy on the mayo but delicious nonetheless), meatballs, potato salad, and pastries. Naturally we tried a little bit of everything. Also available--Danish beer! A lovely way to kick off the holiday season. Check it out next year!

Socarrat has Delicious Socarrat

Socarrat is a paella restaurant that opened in Chelsea a few years ago that I've been wanting to try, since I love any dish featuring carbs as the star. After a weekend visiting family in Florida (hi Aunt P., your potato leek soup was the best! [sorry Mom]) I finally got the chance to give Socarrat a try, in their new-ish NoLiTa location, with the wonderful Katie C., foodie companion extraordinaire.





The fixture of the menu is of course the paella, which comes in a number of varieties, in 2-person per order portions. We went traditional, with seafood, chicken, and beef. While waiting for the paella (which takes about half an hour to prepare) we feasted on tapas, the highlight of which was grilled octopus sliced extremely thin with scrumptious garlic and olive oil. I would have been perfectly happy eating just the octopus. The grilled asparagus with goat cheese, and the fried artichokes, were both delicious but nothing especially exciting.

The paella was pretty fantastic. The seafood was all perfectly cooked (though the chicken and beef were ever so slightly overcooked) and it was all seasoned very well. The best part was the socarrat--the crispy rice formed at the bottom and sides of the pan as the paella roasts. The rice takes on this nutty, caramelized flavor that is scrumptious. I especially liked that part of the service involves the waiter coming and scraping all the socarrat off the pan, because they are much better at it than I was.

Although I liked the food, I was a little disappointed in the service. It wasn't bad; on the contrary they were very attentive, perhaps too attentive. It seemed like they were trying too hard to please and ended up just being a little annoying--ordering took a long time because the wine selection had to be handled first, and that was a multi-step process, and then picked tapas was a big ordeal too. Plus there was a lot of pressure to finish all the paella, which I thought was a little odd. Still, nothing so offensive that I would refuse to go back, especially since the food was so yummy.

Iceland--volcanoes, glaciers, and puffin

Because school has started again and I find myself with lots of time on my hands, and because loyal reader Laura L. made a special request, let's rewind a month to my recent trip to Iceland.

To celebrate the end of our summer, Maxine S. and I took a trip to Iceland. Despite my tonsils' best efforts to derail the vacation, I made it to Reykjavik for a long weekend and met Maxine, who was at the end of her own Scandinavian travel adventure. I was excited to see a land of fire and ice--check out volcanoes, glaciers, continental rifts and many hours of sunlight--and of course to see what the food was like. I was interested to see if everything I love about Scandinavian food (read: smoked salmon) had migrated halfway across the Atlantic with the Vikings.

Well, let's just say there's a reason Iceland isn't known for its food. Travel articles focus mostly on the exotic elements of Icelandic cuisine--whale, puffin, putrefied shark--and with good reason. There's not much more to speak of. Even so, I'm turning it into a blog post, so read on!

Scallops and potatoes below, whale above

Mark Bittman told us we had to go to Sægreifiin for as-local-as-it-gets seafood, so that was our first stop. We both had the lobster soup, which was similar to a lobster bisque, though a little thinner and with much less cream. It was quite tasty, with a generous amount of lumps of tender lobster meat in the soup, though a bit salty. Maxine was brave enough to taste the whale (minke whale, allegedly not endangered and therefore legal to eat) which she said tasted more like steak than fish, was a bit tough and was unpretentious in both taste and presentation. She wanted to like it more than she did (which mirrors my feelings on some of the other food we ate--read on!) I wasn't as willing to adventure, so I stuck with the grilled scallops, which were delicious.

Mmmm, fish and ice cream

For brunch on our day spent in Reykjavik itself (when you go to Iceland, and you should because it's the most breathtakingly beautiful place I've ever seen, plan to spend not even a full day in the capital and spend the entire time you're there out in the country soaking up the amazing views) we headed to Cafe Loki, recommended by several guidebooks as a good place for traditional and well-prepared food. We each got one of the specialty platters, which had an open-faced sandwich of herring and egg, one of mashed fish and potato, and the restaurant's speciality, rye bread ice cream. We decided against the platter featuring lambshead jelly (headcheese) and putrified shark. The ice cream was definitely the highlight--it was similar in look to cookies and cream but the bits of bread retained a little more texture than the normal crumbled cookies, making me think the trick is to use day-old rye bread. The lack of extra sweetness in the flavoring was more than compensated for by the extra butter and milkfat in the ice cream, making it creamy and rich.

Guillemot

Finally we moved on to the game birds of Icelandic cuisine. We headed to Þrir Frakkar, a more upscale restaurant in the city center for our farewell to Iceland dinner. Having seen hundreds of puffins the day before, and realizing they were more like birds than cute helpless penguins, we decided to go for it and order the smoked puffin. We also shared a few entrees, including the guillemot (a seabird similar to, and potentially the same as, pigeon). To be honest, I was underwhelmed. I expected great things from Jamie Oliver's favorite restaurant in Reykjavik (though I guess it's all relative), but what we ate was not extraordinary. The puffin tasted of nothing but smoke and had no texture to speak of, while the guillemot, though well-cooked, was presented with a strident and overpowering sauce. Still, it wasn't bad, and the tasting adventure was a great way to end a vacation full of geological and geothermal adventures. Go to Iceland, be a curious taster, and come home having had the same fantastic time I did!

The best pesto I've ever eaten

After 10 days in Southern California, eating delicious Mexican food at least once a day (more on that coming in a future blog post) I am back in New York, enjoying the heat and humidity. While in LA I decided I needed to get to some Top Chef restaurants, so made reservations at all-star Fabio's Firenze Osteria. After so much raving from the judges on both seasons of Top Chef, I was indescribably excited to experience his rustic Italian cooking, especially the gnocchi. I was also a little nervous, because my experience with Top Chef restaurants has been a mixed bag--Harold's Perilla and Kin Shop are some of the best meals I've had, while Dave's Crave on 42nd (now closed) was an overpriced Olive Garden. So off I went to North Hollywood, with Miriam F. and Rachel G.

Well, dear readers, Fabio does not disappoint. We were greeted with a delicious black olive spread and some bread. The spread was essentially a tapenade, but it was mixed with some finely chopped tomatoes, which helped to cut through some of the strident saltiness that sometimes comes along with a tapenade. With that, we were off to the races.

We next shared an appetizer of spinach and ricotta dumplings, over melted butter with sage. The sage butter was really the selling point on this, and it was delicious, although between the extra cheese grated on top and the butter on the bottom, the dish was a skosh too salty to eat a lot of.

Although we tried to avoid being THAT table ordering the same thing, we all ordered gnocchi. In our defense, we all ordered different gnocchi preparations. Miriam went with the marinara and fresh ricotta, which she adored. 

 I was all set to steer clear of the gnocchi and order the sausage and mushroom risotto, but then decided that I had to experience what the judges on Top Chef called perfect gnocchi. I went with the gnocchi dish no one else was going to order--in a truffled 4-cheese sauce with sausage. It was delicious--everything was perfectly balanced, the sausage was very finely crumpled so that it mixed in with the sauce, and the gnocchi were heavenly light pillows. The only negative was that this was a fairly heavy dish to order for lunch on a warm day, but the especially intense food coma I went through was totally worth it.



Rachel's order blew everyone else's out of the water. She ordered the pesto gnocchi, and this pesto was DIVINE. I truly have never tasted anything like it. The toasted pine nuts scattered above the gnocchi were just the tip of the iceberg. The pesto was creamy and perfectly balanced--there's nothing else to say about it except that it was perfect.



  Seriously, people, go here. It's delicious. And thanks to Rachel G. for the pictures, since my camera died as soon as we sat down to eat.

If food was my religion, this would be my church

Friends, it finally happened. I made it to Eleven Madison Park. It was a dining experience unlike any other I've ever had. I'd heard from friends who'd been there of the incredible attention the waitstaff gives to each customer, of the perfect execution of the food, and the way in which the restaurant is able to produce a meal that lasts for 3 hours and never feels slow, rushed, or anything other than divine. They were all correct. I'm completely overwhelmed by all of the wonderful things I have to say about my meal and can't possibly do it justice in a blog, so let me be clear. GO TO ELEVEN MADISON PARK. GO. Go for lunch, go for dinner, both will be incredible (although I hear there are even more perks to going for dinner) (the only difference might be that some of the special bonuses--like the infamous "have as much of this bottle of cognas as you want"--only come with dinner). The reviews are entirely earned and it is entirely worth any amount of cost-cutting to save up the money to afford it. Seriously, go, you can eat a plate of food as pretty as this one (crab salad between pickled daikon)


Some highlights--

--The Leisure Suit--a cocktail of gin, vermouth, and maraschino liquer. To be honest I have no idea what maraschino liquer is or tastes like, but I like things that resemble a martini and this was definitely that, with the added benefit of not being quite so strident as the run of the mill martini you order at a bar.
--A 135-page wine list. As we know I don't know anything about wine (except that I like to drink it), but 135 pages are bound to contain many goodies, and the sommelier definitely steered us in a delicious, if pricey, direction.
--The bonuses. By bonuses I mean everything that wasn't part of the 3-course meal: the bread (with two butters, one made of cow's milk the other goat's milk), the chilled pea soup with buttermilk "snow" (hi liquid nitrogen!), the egg cream at the end of the meal (with a twist, of course), and my personal favorite, the smoked sturgeon sabayon with chive oil, served in an egg shell. Holy sweet mother, it was amazing.

 

Moving on to the star of the meal, the menu. The menu at Eleven Madison Park is unlike any other menu I've ever seen. For each course you get one word--asparagus, pork, crab, snapper, egg to name a few--and you choose one per course. You then tell them if there's any ingredient you don't like (I asked them to leave out portabello mushrooms) and away they go to perfectly cook your food. I went with asparagus, which came out as a composed salad with hard-boiled egg, bulgur wheat (surprised, Miriam and Hilary?) and some sort of cured ham.

 

I also got the lobster (all I remember about it was that it was butter poached) and the pork (there was a pea puree, clearly my ability to retain information about each dish decreased along with the amount of wine left in the bottle). Everything was perfectly cooked, tasted deliciously, exquisitely seasoned, and the tableside presentation was a nice extra flourish. At the end of the post we're right back where we started--I can't say enough great things about this meal, and what I can say I can't say well. Just go and see for yourself

Some sweets to make the finals pass

It occurred to me recently that a self-professed expert in cupcakes, such as myself, should probably be doing a lot more sampling of and blogging about cupcakes and a lot less about Italian food. I can think of no better time to go for cupcakes than after a tragically hard final. So, after a brutal Securities Regulations final Kat and I walked over to Sweet Revenge for some tasty rewards slash consolation-in-dessert-form. I was first introduced to these cupcakes last year by a wonderful professor. While there's not a lot of variety, which can be a problem when you're in the mood for something specific, what I love about Sweet Revenge (aside from its proximity to school) is the fun way they serve the cupcakes--they're in cups!

 This is the Sweet Revenge Cupcake, a peanut butter cupcake with ganache filling and a peanut butter frosting. It sounds like a LOT of peanut butter so I was a little wary that it would be overwhelming and way too rich, especially when combined with the ganache in the middle. I worried for nothing. It's a delicious cupcake, made even more delicious by the fact that this cupcake manages to somehow be moist without being dense. It's a little crumby, but that's ok because it's in a cup! I also find the cupcake to frosting ratio to be ideal. Sweet Revenge is a great cupcake when you're looking for some variety from the usual suspects and their cookie-cutter vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting.

Stay tuned for a very exciting upcoming post, after Katie and I enjoy the best meal of our lives at Eleven Madison Park.

More Italian food--maybe this blog's name doesn't match my food interests...

Friends, it's happened. I was afraid this day was going to come, I was hoping against hope that it never would, but it's come. It's time for a negative blog post. Here's what went down.

To celebrate the end of Passover, Maxine and I decided on a quick dinner of pasta before going back to the 7th circle of hell known as outlining. Because the goal was something quick I didn't suggest the Friendly Neighborhood Italian Place, since it's a bit far from school and not the quickest restaurant. Instead Maxine suggested Olio, a place she enjoyed last time she was there. So we went. And sat. 30 minutes after ordering a basket containing 2 slices of what I'm 90% certain was WonderBread appeared on the table, with some admittedly very high quality olive oil. 10 minutes later we asked about our food and were told it was 5 minutes away. 10 minutes after that our food arrived, lukewarm and slightly bland.

So, that was a less than ideal return to chametz, minus the part where I got to spend an hour and a half with the wonderful Maxine. Loyal readers, I'd avoid Olio, and stick with the Friendly Neighborhood Italian Place.

Friendly Neighborhood Italian: the Brunch Edition

About a month ago Maxine insisted that I needed to try Centro Vinoteca, and since we needed somewhere to brunch, we killed two birds with one stone and went. In a word, it was delicious. Since then I've been looking for an excuse to go back, this time armed with a camera. Rachel G., of Assessing the Wreckage fame, was the perfect reason. We did a pre-theater brunch there on Saturday and if possible it was better than the first time.

The meal started when they brought over a complimentary pound cake with lemon curd and orange marmalade. I'm not usually a pound cake fan because I find it to be a little too spongy, but this was yummy, and the lemon curd was the perfect mixture of sweet and tangy.

Next up were the lemon ricotta fritters. Maybe it's because Passover is coming up and I was thinking of my grandmother's failed attempt to make kosher for Passover pancakes using ricotta cheese, but I was definitely not expecting the deliciousness that arrived on our plate. These were basically beignets, except a little less airy and a bit more savory. In other words, delicious. Between the fritters, the pound cake and the bread on the table when you arrive, I was basically already full.

Luckily I managed to find room for what may be the most delicious Eggs Benedict I've ever eaten. The hollandaise was the perfect texture and exactly the right level of lemon. Instead of an English muffin I got a lovely surprise in the form of a potato latke, the smoked salmon was delicious, and the fresh organic egg was expertly cooked and a beautiful bright orange when I pierced the yolk. The olive oil drizzled on the plate was so fresh it looked like a neon yellow, which added a nice extra kick to the dish.

Kat ordered the poached eggs over parmesan polenta and bolognese sauce, the same dish Maxine ordered when we were there last time. I've tasted the dish both times, and I'm obsessed. I was glad Kat ordered it so I didn't have to and could try something new, but really, this dish is delicious. Before I'd tasted the eggs benedict I would have told you all that you had to get this dish, but now the requirement is to go with a buddy and order one of each. Totally worth it.

Centro is my new brunch obsession. GO TO THERE!

Friendly Neighborhood Italian Restaurant

So apparently there are people who actually read this blog (hi Mom) and anxiously await the moment when I post something new here (hi Katie). To all of you, I'm sorry. I could blame it on law school, but really it's because I never remember to bring my camera anywhere, and who wants to read a blog about food without a little low-quality food porn (and I would never dream of offending Emily G. by attempting to use blackberry pictures for such an important purpose). So, there's been a delay, but thanks to a lot of prodding and a shout-out in the best Jersey Shore Live Blog I've ever read (and yes I do read several), I am here with the much anticipated Next Blog Post.

Kate P. is in town from Chicago for the week, which was obviously a perfect time to come down with strep throat. Now that it's finally gone, we decided to celebrate with dinner. We wanted something local, no frills, and tasty. Obviously, the Friendly Neighborhood Italian Restaurant was called for. Everyone needs one of these--a place that serves good food, at good prices, that you can drop into for a fun dinner. Not a place that everyone knows and is trendy and hip, but a place that feels comfortable. Mine is Le Zie. I'm not a regular there, but it is my go-to restaurant anytime I'm looking for reliable Italian food in the neighborhood.

So off we went with Kate's friends Marian and Sandy. They enjoyed a glass of wine each, and noted the generous size of the pour. The bowl of olives and the bread on the table while waiting for food are always delicious, though I wish that when we asked for more oil we had gotten more olives with that oil. I had what they call the best spaghetti and meatballs in Manhattan. I don't usually order that in a restaurant, because it seems so simple, but I figured I should investigate all claims to be the best at something, in the interest of blogging integrity (or something). They're good. Very good. Not the best I've had (in my admittedly limited experience), but good. A little dry, and the plate overall needed more sauce (which is saying something, because I tend to like very little sauce on my pasta. Still, a solid choice.

The fresh tuna ravioli intrigued all of us, but only Marian was brave enough to order them. And what a smart choice. While I don't usually love the combination of seafood and pasta, unless the sauce is a simple oil and garlic sauce, this smelled delicious and, Marian said, tasted even better.

The menu at Le Zie is not extensive, but that's ok because they always have a number of specials that sound amazing and are hard to choose between. A contender last night for me was the veal cannelloni with spinach, though this time I opted for the classic. 

This place is foolproof. If you're ever in the area and need a good solid Italian joint, here's the answer to your question. And if you live around here, consider making Le Zie you Friendly Neighborhood Italian Restaurant.

The World's Greatest Chicken

I like chicken. A lot. It's not the fanciest of proteins, but I love it for its versatility -- for the way you can do anything to it, add anything to it, put anything on top of it, and it's almost always delicious. So, when Kat C. and I realized that it'd been over 8 months since either of us last ate PioPio, it was a state of affairs that had to be rectified immediately (even better timing since Katie C. just told me I needed to write a new blog post).

PioPio is a Peruvian chicken restaurant (Pio is the sound a chicken makes in Peru) with several outposts around the city. It is, in a word, glorious. The food's delicious, the prices are insanely low and if you're there for your birthday they play you an awesome birthday song while bringing you a birthday flan.

The problem with writing a blog post about PioPio, however, is that I find it exceedingly difficult to put into words how I feel about it. Much like a good Belgian waffle, eating PioPio is a quasi-religious and spiritual experience. Kat asked "what do you think it is that makes it taste so good?" as she was watching me struggle to put words to "paper." And, truthfully, I really don't know.


I do have a theory, though. I think it's the sauce. This sauce is what makes the whole experience so indescribably wonderful. If I could convince PioPio to sell me enough of it, I would bathe in this sauce. In fact, my only complaint about PioPio is that they give you so little of it when you order take out. The amount of time I've devoted over the last 3 years to sitting and pondering what's in the sauce is probably unhealthy. I'm still not anywhere close to identifying a full ingredient list, but there's definitely green bell pepper, cilantro, cream of some sort (maybe sour?), and sometimes I wonder if there isn't a hint of cucumber in there as well. The green sauce can go on everything you order at PioPio, including the salad to the chicken, the rice and beans and the maduros (pan-fried ripe plantains).

And speaking of the chicken, let's talk about it. It's covered in spices that I can't even begin to identify, which marinate and flavor the chicken for hours before it's roasted to perfection. The meat is juicy and flavorful (frankly even if it wasn't the sauce is so good it barely matters), and the skin is the perfect amount of crispy without being burnt. Two thumbs up.

The sides themselves are delicious, but unremarkable. The salad deserves a special shout-out, though.  It's a pretty basic salad based with lettuce, radishes, shaved red cabbage, carrots and cucumber hiding under the arranged tomatoes and avocados. It's really beautiful to behold, and the fact that the avocados are always perfectly ripe, no matter the season, is just impressive.

Go to PioPio. Trust me on this one.

A Man's a Man, for all that*

Tuesday is Robert Burns' birthday, celebrated in Scotland and around the world with a Burns supper. In honor of the poet of Scotland, I thought it might be fun for all of you to join me on a trip down memory lane and talk about the food and drink of Scotland. Some of you may be thinking to yourselves "Haggis and Scotch, what else is there?" There is, in fact, much more.

But, since you mentioned it, let's start with the Haggis. Mr. Burns (Rabbie to his closest friends) wrote a whole Address to a Haggis, calling it the "chieftan of the sausage race." I don't know what he was smoking. Haggis is one of the foulest things I've ever eaten. Consisting of various ground-up organs of a sheep, mixed with oatmeal and then cooked in the sheep's stomach, it has the appearance of ground meat and the texture of gristle. It is tasteless and dry, and essentially feels like eating tiny bits of cardboard, mixed with mashed potatoes and another mashed root vegetable (usually parsnips or turnips). Not Scotland's finest culinary contribution.

Luckily they've more than made up for it in other areas, particularly the fattening snack food department. There's Piemakers, the delicious pastry shop selling everything from doughnuts to apple fritters to more complex and savory meat pies. It's also dirt cheap, a bonus for an impoverished student with no income. Then there's Cappadocia, the Turkish kebab shop that has the power to draw me and my drunken friends from miles away like moths to a lightbulb. Almost every night, no matter where we were, ended in chips and cheese from Cappadocia. I'm not quite sure what it was--the way the fries were perfectly crispy, doused in just the right amount of salt and vinegar, or the way they closed the container to let the mounds of shredded mozzarella cheese melt before devouring the fries. Perhaps it was the delayed gratification that made it worth the walk, the line, and the calories. I've tried to recreate chips and cheese at home since my semester in Scotland, and it's never worked.

I've breezed through the food because the real culinary stars of Scotland are the beverages--scotch whisky (no E, unless it's Irish whiskey) and beer. This is Belhaven, probably my favorite beer in the entire world. It is brewed at Scotland's oldest and largest independent brewery. It is perfection in liquid form. This picture doesn't do justice to the beauty of a well poured Belhaven. The head on top, similar to a Guiness, is less foamy and much more solid, almost like a layer of cream on top of the beer. Unlike a Guiness, however, this layer seeps down into the rest of the pint, infusing it with a nutty flavor and a smooth creamy texture to cut against the bitterness of the hops (it is not at all a hoppy beer, as a dark beer, but all beer contains a little bit from the hops, I think). It's as if you put a pat of butter on top of a risotto and then watched it melt in. Like I said, perfection.

We come now to the best thing the Scots have given the modern world--Scotch Whisky. Let's begin with a lesson on terminology. Whisky is the Scottish spelling of whiskey, which comes in a number of variations. All whiskies are distilled from fermented grain products (malt whisky, made from malted barley, is the most common Scotch whisky). Whiskies are made all over the world--America, Canada, Ireland, and Scotland. Scotch whisky is whisky distilled in Scotland (surprise surprise). Calling it Scotch will get you dirty looks and a dram of whatever's in the well. You don't want that.

What you want is to make friends with the bartender, and ask for recommendations. No two whiskies are alike. Some have a sweet fruity taste (usually from maturing in wine casks) while others have a supremely strong peat taste (from the barley spending extra time drying over a peat fire). Going to a whisky tasting will let you experience a number of different whiskies side by side, to figure out what it is you like. My personal favorite is the Glenmorangie Port Cask finish. Smooth and sweet, without too much peat (which some adore but I think tastes like antiseptic). If all you've ever tried was a whisky sour or a Jack and Coke, taste some good whiskies before giving up on the drink.

*A poem by Mr. Burns himself, celebrating ideals of egalitarianism and liberalism. Check out the words here.

Welcome to New Orleans (and WFB!)

After creating this blog six months ago to track my adventures working in Brussels, Belgium this summer, and after two widely popular (or at least I like to think so) guest blog posts at Wild and Crazy Pearl and FreeFoodBoston, I've decided the time to enter the blogosphere for real is right now! For the moment, this is a blog about whatever I feel like blogging about--maybe one day it will take on a focus, or maybe it never will--you'll have to stay tuned to find out. For this, my inaugural post, join me in reliving the food I ate on my recent trip to New Orleans.

Two weeks ago Sara and I decided it was time for a vacation, and decided to visit my cousin Laura and her wonderful roommates at the New Orleans Moishe House. Off we went on a long weekend for an adventure in Creole and Cajun cooking.

Our mandatory first stop was at Cafe du Monde, in the heart of the French Quarter. Friends, I've recently been using the phrase "life-changing" to describe things that were just fun, but these really were life-changing. Fried balls of dough covered in sugar have never been something I crave before, but Cafe du Monde has perfected them, and now, while writing this, I can feel the drooling beginning again. These beignets are the perfect texture--much like the Belgian waffles I adore, there's an ideal juxtaposition of the crispy fried outside against the soft, doughy inside that is just a touch undercooked. A mountain of powdered sugar that was several inches high didn't hurt either.

The next day I finally got the Holy Grail of New Orleans cuisine--the po'(-)boy. As an avid sandwich lover, I expected great things from the po-boy. The first one I ate, at Johnny's Po Boys, was slightly disappointing. They had dozens of po-boys to choose from, which all sounded delicious, but for my first taste I decided to stay classic and get the fried oyster po-boy. This also happened to be one of the more expensive choices, which raised my expectations even more. Unfortunately, the oysters were way overcoated and then overcooked, resulting in very dry, very crispy oysters that just tasted like the cornmeal they were coated in. When I picked some of the oysters off and just ate the bread and the other toppings, though, it was delicious. Love that tangy mayo!

My second po-boy was much more successful, and also much less traditional. I've been having a meatball craving for weeks now and decided to get my fill by trying the meatball po-boy from Mahoney's. This was what I would call a meatball sub, but a delicious version of it. The tomato sauce was a spicy rustic Creole tomato sauce, the meatballs were moist and flavorful, and the bead was light and doughy all at once (my favorite).

Finally there was the brunch food. Laura took me to her favorite brunch spots for some more Southern classics. The chicken and waffles was, once-again, life-changing. I don't usually like sweet food for brunch, and I especially don't tend to like sweet food with meat in it. This, however, was totally worth leaving my comfort zone. The fried chicken was perfectly cooked (a boneless piece of chicken that wasn't dry!?!?!), with a nice crust of breading on the outside. The waffle was no Waffle Truck waffle, but it was close. To top it off, the cheesy grits were smooth and the perfect vehicle for more Louisiana Hot Sauce. The next morning at Elizabeth's we decided to go back to the world of waffles and got the cornbread waffle with sweet potato and duck hash and pepper jelly. When I first ate it, I declared that it was one of the best things I've ever eaten. On further reflection, I do have a few more critical thoughts. The pepper jelly was a little overpowering, which made it hard to taste anything other than the heat, and I wish the cornbread waffle had a bit more cornbread taste to it. Still, it was fantastic, and I will definitely be back next time I'm in New Orleans, perhaps to taste the salmon and brie grilled cheese that looked equally delicious. As an added bonus, they served me one of the best Bloody Mary's I've ever eaten.

Since this blog is called Waffles Fries and Beer, I also have to mention the beer. If you are ever in New Orleans on a Friday afternoon at 2:00, you MUST go visit NOLA (New Orleans Lager and Ale) Brewing. They give a complimentary tour that includes UNLIMITED tastes of their beer, which is delicious. The company owner is the tour guide, and spent 15 minutes after the tour talking to Sara and I about beer, where to get the best po-boys in the city, and pouring me a special blend of two of their beers, which he called Brewers Crack. Did I mention it was FREE.

So, the food of New Orleans. It was delicious, and thanks to Laura and the Moishe House for being such great hosts and tour guides! Stay tuned to this blog to see what else happens, and what else I eat.