Fact: If the Saints beat the Eagles tonight, we are only one loss behind Seattle for the final wild card spot.

Do you believe?

But before you stand up and get crunk in the Dome, you likely want to sit down and get stuffed at the dinner table.  In my younger years, a Monday night game meant fighting off hunger until just before the 8:00pm kickoff, when I made a stop by the nachos booth (extra jalapenos, please). The end of the first quarter usually called for a chicken-on-a-stick, then a Dome dog at halftime, followed by a DoveBar for dessert.

Today, I usually do most of my eating before I take my seat in the Dome. While the food options on this end of Poydras have greatly expanded since the Dome patrol days, my pre-game meal loyalties lie almost entirely with the Besh family of restaurants.

Domenica, Luke, and Borgne all run happy hour specials everyday from 3:00-6:00, and for Sunday and Monday night Saints games these deals are impossible to beat:

• Domenica - Half off pizzas, beers, specialty cocktails, and wines by the glass.
• Luke - $0.50 oysters and half off drink specials.
• Borgne - $1 pulled pork empanadas, $1 catfish buns, $0.50 crabmeat croquetas, and half off draft beers, well drinks, and wines by the glass.

Who Dat?

Rene: Pale gold in color. Get some crisp apple flavors at first glance. Don't get the bread aromas that mark a blanc de blancs, could be a blanc de noirs, which is not my preference in Champagnes. Very fine bubbles, but a little too sweet for me. Although I generally like a touch of sweetness in white wines, I like champagnes to be very bone dry. The sweetness needs something brassy to play against. Which brings to mind the lamb sliders from Three Muses with tomato chutney and herbed goat cheese. The feta fries from there also would do just fine as well.

Peter: Yeasty bouquet. Flavor profile is very dry. I would not call this a refreshing Champagne. I know that I have played this card before, but this would make for a great kir royale, the creme de cassis adding a welcome sweetener. A simple cold appetizer would do well - the crabmeat maison at Galatoire's or the the Plateau de Fruits de Mer at Luke.



Joe the Wine Guy: Most Champagnes are house blends, meaning different vintages are blended to create a house's signature style. Every now and then, when there is an exceptional year, the Champagne houses declare a vintage year - and bottle a champagne with grapes specifically from that vintage. Such is the case with this 2002 Veuve Clicquot which is made up of 60% Pinot Noir, 7% Pinot Meunier, and 33% Chardonnay. The nose is open, pure, and complex, with a mineral flavor and flowery notes of Acacia, yellow fleshed fruit and pastries (brioche, marzipan). These give way to delicately spiced aromas, followed by elegant notes of licorice and high-bred teas. On the palate, the wine has fruity and floral notes, mineral and spice tones, and menthol and toast flavors. Try it with bass tartare, poached turbot served on fresh pasta, or cappuccino of Bresse chicken with candied fruits. Keen devotees will enjoy it as an aperitif for very special occasions. You can find it at Ralph's on the Park and Martin Wine Cellar, where it retails for $79.99.

We try as a general principle here at Blackened Out Metal Fabrication and Casting Agency to avoid writing about restaurants we just don't find to be up to par (pun obviously intended). While we are both getting better at writing critical reviews that don't just sound like "this was awesome," bashing a restaurant is not really what we are into 'round these parts.

But sometimes you have to scold. And right now, Luke is the most under performing restaurant in the city. Perhaps, he is in his adolescent stage. A period marked by apathy, rebelliousness, and confusion about who he really is. If so, please hurry and grow up.

When it opened in the Spring of 2007, Luke was an exciting return to good old fashioned German and French focused lunches that blanketed the CBD. Luke had some opening glitches, service most notoriously. However, the restaurant stabilized and became my favorite place in the city to eat lunch. Luke was also a treat if you had missed lunch. On such days, I'd wander over there around 4pm for a dozen cold oysters and a cocktail or beer before heading home.

The last few visits at Luke (two in 2011 alone) have been dumbfounding. On one, I was served a bowl of tepid chicken stock with an ice cold matzoh ball. By the second bite, the soup was cooling off rapidly than Brody Jenner's career. Admittedly, when this was brought to the staff's attention, it was remedied. Lucky for us, this would be the first of many hiccups.

Take, for example, the fried oyster salad on one visit. The oysters, saggy and wilted, had none of the vibrancy or crunch that makes them a salty stand-in for a crouton. Either the dressing or the lettuce was gritty. Doesn't matter which one, as it didn't matter to the kitchen either.

I vaguely remember a chicken breast that was tough, stringy, and devoid of any flavor. It too sat under a salad marked by limp, unwashed greens and flavorless dressing. A stale crouton (it is possible) made it clear that no one could be asleep at the wheel because no one was even at the wheel. But maybe, I thought, it was just a bad day.

On another recent visit, I decided to go back to a basic favorite: the Cochon de Lait pressed sandwich. To describe how bad this was we need to take a slight tangent. For some reason, growing up we always had these 2 inch slices of French bread in the freezer. I'd come home from school, take out three or four, throw them in the microwave, and lather them up with butter. High class, of course. The flavor of those little cradles of butter always tasted of the deep, cold of the freezer. I know that means nothing to you, but frozen bread which is rapidly defrosted has a specific taste.

Like Proust's madeleine, one bite of the bread at Luke immediately took me back to fifth grade after school snacks. This is New Orleans. There is a devoted bakery portion of the Besh Empire. Such a shortcut should not happen here. However, maybe the tastebuds have deceived me and the bread was not in fact frozen and rapidly defrosted. If so, it may be time to hire a new baker, Chef Besh.

The rest of the sandwich was equally disastrous. The pork was dry, brittle, and bland where it should have been moist, supple, and flavorful. But the real showcase that someone just doesn't give a damn anymore was the caramelized onions which were all piled on precisely 1 inch of the 8 inch long sandwich. There was one bite full of onions; the rest of the sandwich, nothing. I felt bad for the pig.

Service woes have returned. To wit, Luke serves Cokes in cute little glass bottles. I have no problem with this affectation, but realize one of the benefits is that it makes free refills impossible. Well, when a waiter knocks over a full bottle and spills its contents on the table, replacing the bottle at no cost is the correct move. Ignoring the situation is not.

Prices at the bar have crept up to the unjustifiable realm, especially the beer which, despite being made across the lake, is priced as if it is made across the pond. And I am still mad they got rid of the Thursday lamb shoulder pasta dish.

Step up your game, Luke.

Luke
Bogey, and you are really close to Double Bogey

333 St. Charles Ave.
378-2840

Today, we unveil the Top 5 additions to the New Orleans Dining and Drinking Scene Post-Katrina. We knew this was a cliche idea. However, going through the exercise provided us with an opportunity not only to examine the New Orleans restaurant scene in toto but also to look with special favor upon what came after the storm. Those restaurateurs, bartenders, and shopkeepers who chose New Orleans to hang their shingles or branch out, despite the odds.

First off, we realize many great restaurants struggled to return to New Orleans. They found their cooks, bussers, and waiters all over the country and brought them back. They dealt with insurance adjusters and new regulations. They reopened with skeletal crews and out of whack balance sheets. To them we owe a lot. For if they don't come back, these places don't exist. So a big round of applause to all the restaurants in New Orleans that reopened after Katrina.

We also know there are many great places that didn't make the list. Places like Il Posto, which Rene refuses to write about because he doesn't want to fight crowds on Saturday morning trips for a cappuccino and a California bagel. Places like Meson 923 which have returned to New Orleans a prodigal chef in Chris Lynch. Places like Mondo and Coquette which are putting good food in great neighborhoods and watching the lines form. And restaurants, stores, and bars that have yet to be conceived, developed and opened.

Cue the Chairman of the Board, "The Best is Yet to Come."

#5: The Sun Rarely Sets on The Besh Empire - In the days after Katrina, John Besh and his trusted cooks Blake LeMarie and Alon Shaya used the Katrina trinity (propane tanks, flatboats, and ice chests) to serve loads of hungry refugees and recovery workers. Nearly five years later, Chef Besh was once again at the forefront, this time in the wake of the Deepwater Horizon disaster. In between those times, he did little more than open 3 new restaurants and continue the legacy of a 4th. Not a bad stretch, if you ask us.

But it's not so much the quantity as the quality and diversity of the Besh family of post-K restaurants which warrants high praise. When Cobalt failed to reopen after the breach, Besh seized the opportunity to reinvent the first floor of the Masonic Temple into an Alsatian brasserie, complete with pulley and belt-driven fans which were a trademark at Kolb's. Enter Lüke, now the most popular restaurant for a business lunch in the CBD.

The dichotomy of forward thinking paired with a nod to the past was exemplified in two of Besh's post-K acquisitions. When his former mentor Chris Kerageaorgiou was in search of someone to pass the torch to at La Provence, Besh took over the reigns and revived its farm-to-fork history by growing vegetables and raising livestock on the grounds, while continuing the tradition of rustic French cuisine in a country house setting. Similarly, at The American Sector, Besh honors the greatest generation by serving World War II era food using contemporary ingredients and techniques.

And if three is good, four must be better. New Orleans has always had its own distinctive Creole-Italian cuisine, known for smooth, sweet red sauces and an unconventional bordelaise comprised of olive oil and garlic. But with the opening of Domenica, Chef John Besh and Alon Shaya ushered in a new era of Italian dining in the city. House cured salumi and wood-fired pizzas share menu space along with exquisitely made pastas, with no "red gravy" to be found.

#4: Sucre - Tariq Hanna, chef of Sucre, said it better than we ever could. When asked about why people like sweets he responded, "You only eat sweets for two reasons: because you are seeking comfort or soothing guilt."

No matter where you were when Katrina hit, or how you have lived your life since then, those descriptions fit. When Sucre opened it set off an only in New Orleans brawl between supporters of Sucre and supporters of La Divina Gelateria. The Jets and Sharks, Bloods and Crypts, and Hatields and McCoys look like catfights compared to the Blue Bloods and Hipsters.

Sucre has distinguished itself in our eyes. There are airy, pastel colored macaroons, petit fours with layers of raspberry, chocolate, and more chocolate, milkshakes spiked with Bailey's, espressos, truffles with sea salt, and of course cakes resembling whichever team the Saints are destroying that week.

Joel Dondis always had a sweet tooth. But it was while living and working in Germany, he first decided to one day own a pastry shop. He found going to the bakery down the street provided relief from long hours and low pay as a cook. Dondis and Hanna teamed up to open Sucre in April of 2007. Since then the childhood inspired, sweet shop on Magazine has expanded to include a pastry factory near Broadmoor, where the cakes, truffles, ice creams, and baked goods are made by a dedicated staff. A staff that includes many graduates of the Culinary Institute of America. The word is out among the nation's up and coming pastry chefs. If you want to be somebody, you need to work at Sucre.

Soon a location will open in Lakeside Mall with an espresso machine called the Slayer. "This is going to revolutionize the coffee drinking experience in New Orleans," Dondis explains. "You will be able to choose your blend, grind size, water temperature, pressure, all of it."

To steal from Rick Pitino, "McKenzie's isn't walking through that door."

But that's OK. We got Sucre now.

#3: St. James Cheese Co. - "People said we were insane to open a cheese shop in New Orleans," Danielle Sutton says. "We are glad to prove them wrong."

Prior to Katrina, Richard Sutton worked as a cheesemonger in London. He and his wife, Tulane alums (we hear it is a college), returned to New Orleans with the idea to open a quiet, little cheese shop uptown. When they opened in November of 2006, the plan was to only have one or two sandwiches and to build a small niche as a supplier of fine cheeses. That plan soon changed once the public got a taste of their sandwich creations.

In winter crowds clamor for the raclette and croque monsieur. And last summer, the removal of the BLT with Serrano ham replacing bacon caused an uproar. "We had customers call and ask if the BLT was on the menu. When we would say no, they would hang up on us," Danielle recounts.

But still, the staff at St. James focuses on delivering the best cheeses and charcuterie from around the world. To witness, walk in to St. James on a Thursday around noon. The line will snake from the register down the display cases filled with people drooling over the selections. Richard, or one of his able staffmembers, will come over to and ask you what you want. "What is new," you ask.

Their eyes light up like a kid on Easter Sunday who spies a basket of candy on the mantle. "Have you tried the new aged gouda? Or the Ste. Marcelin? A delicious Triple Creme is in, layered with truffles, try it. What about this blue from Humboldt?"

And off they go dispensing samples of cheese, pates, and cured meats, while taking an order for a Mozzarella sandwich, and uncorking a bottle of rose. Recently, St. James added an online presence via a partnership with Taigan.com, the high-end, luxury online shopping center (backed by First Street resident Julia Reed). Previously they only accepted phone orders for out of town shipments. Which is a great gift to give a sister, should you have one living in say DC or New York.

St. James is also a great spot for dinner. Let us explain. You know those Fridays, when there is no food in the house and you don't really feel like going out to dinner? Swing by St. James, pick out three or four cheese, a pate, some slices of Jamon Serrano (or Iberico if you got that cash money), and a baguette. Take it home and lay it out on the biggest cutting board you have. Open a bottle of wine, put your feet up, and graze the night away.

With Andy Scurlock manning the charcuterie and turning out impressive truffle-studded pates and English meat pies, the future of St. James is bright. But it is the last four years that are special for Richard and Danielle. As Danielle explains, "We love the feeling that we have become a neighborhood spot in a city of great neighborhood spots. Our customers have become our friends, they go to Italy or France and bring us back treats. That really means a lot to us."

When the Sutton's came to New Orleans, they did not know what to expect but what they found has warmed their hearts. "New Orleans has been so supportive and welcoming to us. Even dealing with City Hall was enjoyable," Danielle says.

If that isn't a sign, New Orleans is back. We don't know what is.

#2: Cochon/Cochon Butcher - Chef Donald Link said it best during his segment on No Reservations: "You respect somebody for staying here. Staying here after the storm and raising your family here is making a statement."

Not only did Chef Link stay in New Orleans to raise his family, he and partner Stephen Stryjewski also moved forward with their plans to open Cochon, the porcine mecca on Tchoupitoulas Street. Beside introducing New Orleanians to the wonders of rustic Acadiana cooking, the media frenzy surrounding Cochon sent an important message to the rest of the nation: New Orleans and its food culture still matter and are worth saving. While some members of the press were kicking us while we were down, restaurateurs like Link were too busy raising the city up to even bother with the naysayers.

But all of the press and accolades were no reason for Link to rest on his laurels. In early 2009 the Link Restaurant Group launched Cochon Butcher, the forerunner of the salumi movement that has swept both the local and national dining scenes. Many people don't realize that before ABC Restaurant in NYC began curing its speck in house, the coonasses of Cajun country had about a 250 year head start on them. Butcher has brought those time tasted crafts to the Big Easy, which in turn launched this artisan movement onto the national level.

#1: La Boca - The worst kept secret in New Orleans is that it is a wonderful place to get a steak. For years Ruth Fertel's halfway eponymous restaurants showed the world how to cook and serve a steak. Ruth's Chris Corporate Office left the city with the flood waters, pissing a lot of people off. Into this vacuum stepped La Boca, which has established itself as the city's best steakhouse.

Nick Bazan and Adolfo Garcia came up with the idea of La Boca prior to Katrina. Originally they wanted a 150 seat restaurant devoted to all things Argentinian meat. But the federal flood caused them to change their plans. Luckily, Taqueria Corona never returned and they got a good deal on a 47 seat restaurant. They also had to focus the menu to what ingredients they could get reliably day in and day out. As chef/partner Jared Ralls puts it, "Adolfo and I always talk about keeping dishes simple and singularly focused. By lessening the stuff on the plate, we can increase our chances for success."

La Boca opened on June 1, 2006, which as you are well aware is the first day of hurricane season. "It was a way of saying 'Screw it, we aren't going anywhere.' We had faith in New Orleans, faith it would come back, faith people would get what we were trying to do from a culinary standpoint," Ralls recounts.

It took about two years for the restaurant to really catch on with both locals and tourists. "Business was always good, but then all of a sudden at the beginning of 2008, we just exploded," Ralls says. The success has not stopped La Boca from doing a Service Industry Night every Thursday, when you can spy some of the city's best chefs digging into steaks and slugging red wine long after the customers have gone home.

La Boca has all the classic grill marks of a steakhouse, with subtle nods to more contemporary dining. The interior of La Boca is like eating inside a large brick fireplace, with red masonry, wood timbers, and a warm glow from the kitchen. In other steakhouses the walls are lined with pictures of sports stars from year's past shaking hands with the owner. Here, are Boca Junior soccer jerseys and paraphernalia from Argentina.

Rather than beat you over the head with bottles you can't afford, the wine list at La Boca offers an all Argentine selection of toned, lean whites and muscular, lusty reds. Affordability is the main link. Hell, there even is a surly maitre d', albeit one wearing a Marilyn Monroe tie, Scarface suspenders, and saddle oxfords.

The vibe of La Boca has nothing on the food. Gooey provoleta smeared over those rolls and lacquered with chimichurri make the grilled cheese seem juvenile. The plump, tender sweetbreads, grilled whole and served with just a squeeze of lemon, have no equal in the city. The gnocchi is like eating a potato that just made love to butter and cream. Even the heart of palm salad makes a compelling argument to eat more veggies.

Then we come to the main event, the steaks. Sourced from places with cool names like Snake River and Painted Hills, this is not the place to order a filet (although the bone-in job is pretty good). Go with the hanger, the skirt, the skirt with skin, or the flank. All of the steaks, save the bottom sirloin flap, get only a sprinkling of salt and pepper before hitting the grill. This absence of fussing around means you taste the beef in all of it's glory. The three chimichurris are the colors on your palette wheel. Paint as you will.

Don't forget an order of the fries, or the mashed potatoes, or the corn pudding or the asparagus. Go ahead and linger for a while. If it is a nice March or October evening, the windows to Fulton St. will be open wide. Sit, swirl, and sip that Malbec. It should be loosening up about now, as should your mood. Stick around long enough and the Red Eye will open. Go ahead and go, we won't judge. Lord knows we've all been there once before and soon enough, will be again.

We chose La Boca as our favorite Post Katrina addition to the New Orleans food scene for a few reasons. First, we love steak and feel it is the best steakhouse in the city. Secondly, although La Boca is a few years old, there is still a feeling of excitement every time we go. One of us will go and text the other, "Heading to La Boca." Instantly a wave of jealousy spreads over the other Blackened Out twin.

Third, the Warehouse District has become the post-Katrina center of dining in the city. The sheer volume of excellent restaurants within a 6 block walk keeps each operator on top of their game. And in this area, there is no better place we like to eat than La Boca.

Finally, we all lost nouns in Katrina - places, things, and people. Whatever it is Katrina took from you, what you really lost was the memory of the noun. Your kids walking down the stairs on Christmas morning, the picture of you and your cousin in Destin, or the restaurant where your husband proposed. Restaurants in New Orleans have always been more than places to get a meal. They are links to the past. Memory place card holders which evoke not only good food but also great times. Maybe it was eating at Ruth's after either your First Communion or high school graduation. Maybe you never went but always wanted to go to Christian's. Restaurants matter here almost as much as the World Champion Saints.

But what Katrina didn't take was our ability to dine out. To eat well with friends or perfect strangers. To create memories which will live on past the latest fad in cooking or the bonds of any friendship. La Boca has become our favorite new place to create lasting memories. The restaurant has accomplished this by borrowing from the past while being truly original. By extension, La Boca feels like it has always been a part of New Orleans. For that, it gets our nod as the best addition to the New Orleans food scene Post-Katrina. Here's wishing it stays a treasure of New Orleans forever.

And you know what that means. No? You don't?

We here at the Blackened Out School of Economics and Ponzi Schemes are acutely aware that dining out is getting harder and harder to do. This is mostly because of global fluctuations in the drachma and a strong desire by everyone save the guvuhment to save, save, save. So maybe you can not order that second bottle of Yellow Tail, but you can still enjoy some great dining for little more than it costs you to go to Subway twice.

Here is our take on the best fine dining in the CBD.

MiLa has to be the best lunch special in the city. This is based on a variety of factors. First, the husband and wife team of Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing have a Ph.D in cooking. Secondly, MiLa relies on using farm fresh ingredients to such an extent they actually have a farmer who grows crops for them. Thirdly, and most importantly the building in which MiLa is located was formerly the situs of the original Jesuit High School. For $20, here is what I ate recently: a butternut squash soup with chopped scallops, a seared flat iron steak with long beans and a red wine demi glace, and homemade bannana ice cream with cookies. Perfect lunch, it has to be the spirit of the Jesuits.

Cuvee is the perfect nooner of the lunchroom. It seduces you with .25 cent martinis, delivers you 3 courses of inventive and delicious food, and then sends you back to the office with a smile and no guilt. Recently I had the misfortune to dine there with the Dread Pirate and although he tried his best to ruin my meal, the pork belly with a sweet glaze and heat-driven slaw was magnifcient. Speaking of martinis, I would like to pass on a great quote about drinking during work hours: "Always order gin martinis, that way when you return to the office, everyone will know you are drunk and not stupid."

Everyday Luke runs a different plat du jour. For $15 you get a soup and a hearty plate of food. The lamb ragu, has unfortunately been replaced, but the lamb neck ravioli is just as good and filing as its older more successful brother. Be forewarned that after you eat at Luke for lunch, that TPS report is likely to be put off until the following morning.

Peter and I give instructions on how to dine at Casamento's in this month's offBEAT. Also pick up a copy of the magazine or get a subscription if you live elsewhere to read our look at the Old Broads from Broad Street. Peter did most of the heavy lifting on this article and so far the results have been positive. Here is another article to make you feel good about living here. If you don't live here, this may make you move here.

The Old Broads are a collection of broads who worked at the Ruth's Chris on Broad Street for many years. Some of them bounced around to other Ruth's following Hurricane Katrina and many of them (including, cooks, dishwashers, and the general manager) returned to the new location in May.

Now back to the subject at hand, the enviable mollusk known by the name Oyster. Believe it or not, I used to never eat seafood. Never. Would not touch it. However, since moving back a few years ago, the addictive qualities of seafood make it harder and harder to say no.

Over the weekend I had some oysters at Felix's. While the oysters were good, the rest of the meal just did not pan out. So in honor of month's that have an R in them, here is our Official Blackened Out Rating of Oyster Bars. This rating takes into account not only the bivalves themselves, but also the ambiance, the shucker, and other food options. Here is a pic of an erster from Casamento's. Look at this beauty.


Eagle: Casamento's
Birdie: Luke, Bozo's, Grand Isle, and Pascal's Manale
Par: Acme, Cooter Browns
Bogey: Felix's, Bourbon House
Double Bogey: Unless it makes you sick, there is no oyster bar bad enough to warrant the dreaded double bogey.

Finally. Peter returned to New Orleans recently. We owed Section 123 Saints Fan a lunch to celebrate him being the 10,000th visitor to El Blogo Diablo. We went to Luke. Somehow the Pope joined us and we even had a sighting of the Deli King.

We started as all meals should, with a round of Heiner Brau Pilsners and an order of Berkshire Pork Rillettes. The pig who was sacrificed for this delicious spread grew up in one of the most peaceful settings you can imagine: behind La Provence in Lacombe, they wallow around in a huge mud pit, their fat billowing out like an over inflated weather balloon, and get fed scraps from the kitchen. These are some happy pigs, and that life of luxury produces a very good rillette.

Next, a cold dozen raw of P&J Oysters served on the 1/2 shell with horseradish, cocktail sauce, and two types of remoulade. These buggers were juicy and cold; truly oysters get no better than this time of year.

Section 123 Saints Fan chose the Croque Madame - a ham and cheese sandwich topped with a Mornay sauce and a perfectly fried egg. You see that egg yolk dropping over the side of the sandwich like the world's slowest moving and most delicious waterfall? That is food art. You can thank Peter for all these photogs. Section 123 disappointed all by only eating half. He then followed up our insults by saying, "F&*kers, I ate at Herbsaint last night and I am eating at August tonight. I don't need to be a fat ass right now."

That my friends is called the Trifecta.

The Pope dove right into his pressed cochon de lait sandwich. The fries on the right were last seen fighting for their life with The Pope's index finger and incisors. If you have any information of their whereabouts, please contact Crime Stoppers.
I went with the Thursday Special. A Lamb Ragu with homemade pappardelle, gremolata, Parmesan, pickled radishes, and toasted almonds. A cup of matzo ball soup preceded this perfectly cooked pasta dish.
And finally the Resistance Piece. The order by which all others are judged. I present to you the first photographic evidence of cholesterol in its natural state...The Luke Burger.

An onion roll, lettuce, tomato, sauteed mushrooms and onions, Emmentaler Cheese, crack-cocaine, perfectly cooked beef, ohh and just for good measure, some bacon.

And remember dear readers, if you are the 20,000th visitor to the Blog, lunch is on us. And we will even let you pick which blog character to bring along. Consider it a cooler version of Breakfast with Disney Characters.*


*Which by the way is a scam. I remember going when I was a kid. I desperately wanted a picture with both Chip and Dale. Only Disney was cheap back then and hired just one guy to play both and only had one costume. I threw what can only be described as a shit storm meets a temper tantrum topped with a conniption fit (i.e. The Perfect Toddler Storm). And that is why to this day, I am not allowed on any Disney properties.

Do you even have to ask? Though we each have our own pregame rituals, a Monday night home game should be classified as a special occasion. Here are a few options which run the gamut:

1. Beers and music on the catwalk between the New Orleans Centre and the Dome.
2. Cocktails and burgers outside Allegro Bistro in the bottom of the Energy Centre.
3. Nachos and longnecks at Lucy's.
4. Raw oysters and Ojen at Lüke.
5. Shrimp & grits and Sazeracs at Herbsaint.

Eat and drink wherever you please, as long as you are wearing black and gold.

Lüke may be the most popular lunch spot in the CBD. In fact, my guess is that several of you hundreds of devoted readers probably have 12:30 reservations there today. I have lunched at Lüke 5 times over the past month - all with different groups of people. What does that say about John Besh's Alsatian bistro? One word: consistency. If you are looking for a solid meal with good service, then Lüke is a safe bet.

The menu is a melange of culinary fare. Just glance at the list of appetizers. Where else can you order rustic pates and terines, crabmeat maison, and an onion tarte all from the same menu? On my latest lunch at Lüke, I was fortunate enough to dine with the extended Papal family, and we sampled a wide array of Chef Besh's culinary delights.

The pâté de campagne of wild boar comes in a mason jar with a 1/4 inch layer of fat on tap. One serving of this was more than enough for 8 people to enjoy hefty samples. The pâté was rich beyond belief, but the housemade mustard and cornichons provided enough acidity to cut through the fat. The crabmeat maison was excellent, and it just goes to show that when crabmeat is as bountiful and sweet as it is right now, little needs to be added to this wonderful seafood. The boudin noir was a deliciously course grind; but I thought the saute of potato, onions, and apples all caramelized into a menage a trois of goodness was the best part of the dish. Rene would fire me if I forgot to mention the pork rilletes, though I am sad to say that I have never tried them. Last but not least the flamenküche - that wonderful onion tart covered with bacon and Emmenthaler cheese. Simply divine.

The daily specials should be your first stop in deciding on a main course. The whole roasted cochon de lait is succulent. (Ask the waiter to toss in a few slices of skin. Just tell him that you know Rene, and he will hook you up). The veal cheeks with potato gnocchi might be favorite dish on the menu - tender morsels of veal accompanied by soft pillows of potato pasta.

All of the regular menu options are good, but might be a little on the heavy side for lunch. Ordering the shrimp and grits, steak au poivre, or jagerschnitzle with spätzle will guarantee you two things: a deliciously filling meal and zero billables hours for the afternoon.

So if either you are starting to get full from appetizers or need to hit your 2000 hours for the year, I would go with a sandwich. I mean, think about it: How would you make the aforementioned cochon de lait a lighter meal? Why throw it on some bread and call it a sandwich, of course. The BLT of bacon and buster crab is an ingenious invention, and the Luke Burger - a massive pattie of beef covered in bacon, sauteed onions, and Emmenthaler cheese - is one of the top 3 burgers in the city. But the best part about ordering one of these sandwiches is that they all served with the housemade fries, which are cooked in duck fat. Yes, you read that correctly - DUCK FAT.

OK, I just realized something. There is nothing "light" about eating at Lüke. Actually, the grilled paillard of chicken is rather light, but it is nonetheless flavorful.

So there it is. Lüke. You go there because you know what you're going to get. A good meal with fine service. It's an easy 3 foot birdie putt on a short par 4.

Across from the Hotel Inter-Continental on St. Chuck is a delightful brasserie known as Luke, with an umlaut. Had lunch there yesterday, it is a very busy, lively spot. Start with the pied de cochon. Succulent pig rolled in breadcrumbs and then fried, with a slightly tangy sauce Gribiche. Thats 3 of the 4 food groups right there, on one plate. Then try either the daily special or one of the amazing entrees. Yesterday I had the Chicken Paillard. While the chicken was a little dry (pounding it so thin makes it hard to not overcook), what amazed me most was the tomatoes. Fresh creole tomatoes had been blanched and the skins removed before being segmented and tossed with the arugula. That is attention to detail. Really good salads as well, the oyster, bacon, and avocado salad delivers oysters the size of wiffle balls.

I think one of the most endearing things about Luke is that it is good in a very workmanlike manner. Solid food, good prices, in a convenient setting; a winner in my book.

A full review from Peter is forthcoming.

I am happy to report that 2 New Orleans Restaurants made Frank Bruni's list of the top 15 new restaurants in America (excluding New York). Luke, John Besh's wonderful old world brasserie, just missed the cut of the top 10 and will not be getting profiled (maybe if they tightened up some of the service problems). However, look for Cochon, Donald Link's Porkographic Restaurant, to be profiled in the coming weeks. Mr. Bruni is counting down the top 10 new restaurants in America. From the introduction to the countdown today it seems he was very impressed by Cochon. You can find the first part here.

Unfortunately, I regret that P.F Izzo's Sushi Bar and Brazilian Steakhouse of Baton Rouge did not make the cut.

This post will begin to outline some of the characters. Hopefully, they will continue their antics under the cloak of anonymity this blog will afford them. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

The words of the older gentleman hung in the air. "Remember only one Ojen cocktail. Anymore is foolish."

The day had started innocently enough, I had lunched scheduled with Legend and Lady Luncheon at Cafe Adelaide. Originally enthralled by the promise of $.25 Martinis, our passions soon subsided when it took over 35 minutes for the college bar drink special to arrive. Regardless, the food tasted great and the carnival atmosphere made everyone excited (it being Carnival).

After lunch, Lady Luncheon returned to work. Legend and I contemplated what to do before I mentioned, "You know Luke is right around the corner we could pop in for a good, stiff drink, maybe some raw oysters."

"I don't know...French Quarter?" responded Legend.

"They have an amazing bar and some cute bartenders..." my words trailing off behind the now fleeing for Luke, Legend.

We sat down at the Zinc topped bar and ordered a round of drinks. Stella for Legend; a Sazerac for myself. Discussions revolved around the usual non-important stuff. For my next drink I went with the Ojen Cocktail. Legend upon tasting it decided he too would switch to the potent pink tonic.

As we sat there nursing our drinks, the father of a friend came over and remarked "Y'all drinking Ojens?"

"Yes sir," we replied.

"Good. Make sure you only have one of those, anymore is foolish."

Of course this advice, like all free advice, was not taken.

Next stop is the Old Absinthe House. Where we stumbled upon the following scene, women and men dressed to the nines (just escaping the Proteus lunch at Antoine's) and a movie being filmed. If there was any place in the world, we did not need to be right at that moment it was on that fateful corner.

After a few more rounds of drinks, I head back to Lady Luncheon who by this time is getting off of work. The following texts have been received from my phone from Lady: "Are y'all blackout? I don't want to deal with y'all if you are. Make sure you can make the Dr. John concert".
I ask Legend if he would like to go home and rest up for a little while. Legend assures me, while pointing to a matronly woman, "Dude, I'm fine...seriously if I was drunk she would be a lot
better looking and I would be hitting on her. Do you see me hitting on her?"

Fast forward 2 hours, Lady Luncheon and I arrive at Mr. B's to meet The Pope, Peter (a fellow contributor of this blog), Legend and some other minor characters. Suffice it to say, Legend has begun hitting on any women within a 15 yard radius. In the time I have left him, and the Pope and Peter took custody of him, approximately 6-9 vodka martinis have been downed by Legend.
Legend than committed that most egregious sin when dining in a group. No, not grabbing the waitress's ass or telling her, "You are going home with me." Rather, he boasted, "I had an incredible quarter. Dinner, wine, drinks... it is all on me."

Then turning to The Pope who was studying the wine list, "Order whatever, I got it."

We all struggled with the morality of taking advantage of Legend's obviously drunken offer of generosity, but then good sense overrode all of us. The collective, yet unspoken, decision of the group was to teach Legend a lesson.

We set about our task with the diligence of Germans, the enthusiasm of Frenchmen, and the
care free attitude of Italians. Fried oysters, Foie Gras, Gumbo Ya-Ya, Duck Spring Rolls, Filets with Truffle Butter, a blackened trout (Peter's), and other specialities arrived. The food service was outpaced only by the speed in which the $110 a bottle Oregon Pinots arrived.
Peter, struggling with his trout, attracted the attention of the waitress. "Was it not good?" she asked.

"Yeah, it was a bit overcooked, and well maybe I am a little over blackening things, a little blackened out if you will."

Almost as if on cue, Legend hearing the phrase "blackened out" stood up and began "I am not black out, I am fine. Don't judge me, lawyers, pleh..."

What followed amazed even The Pope. Legend proceeded to take two wobbly steps forward bow down once and say "In the name of the father", bow a second time saying "The son", and finally Legend hit the deck. But not before taking out an entire tray of waters that was being brought to a neighboring table.

Legend than proceeded to hide underneath a table, and say "Shhhhhh...it wasn't me, I am just going to go to sleep...Wake me when it's over."

Before putting Legend in a cab (and securing his credit card for the bill), I told him "Go straight home, do not stop at Fat Harry's, do not collect $200."

"F*ck you, Dad.... I knew I should have had just one Ojen."