Actually, I flew back. A couple weeks ago. Sorry, Fats Domino. I'm really sorry, Fats Domino. Don't hate me for flying back to New Orleans. Just don't. And if you don't hate me, I will forgive you for not playing at JazzFest that one year and Lionel Richie came on in your place. Although maybe you were telling the truth that you had some medical condition that prevented you from playing. Actually, Fats Domino, it would be cooler in a way if you just blew it off. I would've admired that "I'm Fats Domino, and I don't give two fucks" attitude.
Since all my restaurant reviews are from the year Zero B.C. and also because we are in Vegan MoFo right now, I thought I'd share my opinions on where to eat in New Orleans if you're a vegan, 2010. The best part about these reviews, though, is they will show you how much I've grown since I left there a year ago. Fascinating.
Tandoori Chicken -- My first stop, in Metairie, where David Duke used to -- and for all I know still does -- iron his robe and hood. Ignore the name Tandoori Chicken, vegans, and get out your fork. Still my favorite restaurant in the New Orleans area. Owner Singh dude cooked me a custom order of saag without paneer. No cream in the dish either, just in my jeans, 'cause it was so goddamned good. What? If you can't cream in your jeans when someone cooks you some tasty Indian greens, then why don't we all just go fuck ourselves in the 1950s or something?
Parkway Bakery & Tavern -- Had two french fry po boys. Now that is some starch. Tell 'em to hold the gravy. And bring your own vegenaise. Which reminds me . . .
I will now take a break to congratulate myself on my unique contribution to veganness -- my commitment to vegan condiments. Because I like po boys so much, and because a po boy isn't shit without a mayonnaise-like substance, I bring my own jar of vegenaise wherever I go. I also bring salt (vegan!) and non-white sugar. I've faced a lot of ridicule, been spit on, etc., for being so vegenaise-centric, but there's nothing like feeling the heft and cool glass of the vegenaise jar in your coat pocket when you're headed to the po boy shop. My only dilemma is whether to put all these great condiments in a holster, a man-purse or a fanny-pack-like dispenser that creepy people used to wear to make change.
Bennachin -- From Gambia and Cameroon -- two of the best African countries; no, two of the best countries, period, motherfucker, I will beat your ass! -- come a combo dish you will want to have heterosexual sex with. I'm talking about jama jama ni makondo, which consists of some pretty dang fine down-homey Spinach, fried plantains, coconut rice and a white roll. I got a ginger drink, too. And it's in the French Quarter -- a block away from Bourbon Street, in fact. So you can digest while exploring one of the world's most sophisticated titty-watchin' scenes.
Surrey's -- And now for Part I of the brunch segment of our program. They have some genius in the kitchen cooking the potatoes. Good enough to make up for the hot water they pass off as coffee -- weak, man. On the other hand, the word "vegan" is still on the menu.
Satsuma -- A perfect place to bring a vegan-hatin' friend, like I did. I gave her the sugary, crackly top of my muffin, and she briefly shut up 'cause it was so dang good.
Fair Grinds -- More savory and sweet vegan snacks than a New Orleans coffee house in its right mind should have. Also the best coffee in town. And it's got such a groovy hippie vibe, I had a massive LSD flashback that I am still on right now -- the screen is melting, man, Microsoft Windows 7 and Facebook are growing genitals, and they just jumped in a pile with Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg . . . Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!
Pho Tau Bay -- While I'm on this LSD flashback, I'd just like to say that this is a very fine Vietnamese establishment. Indeed, I had a perfectly good order of vegetarian soft spring rolls and pan-fried noodles with vegetables and tofu and washed it down with a splendid sugary lime drink.
Kim Son -- So China and Vietnam were sitting around one day, drunk as usual, when China said, Hey, Vietnam, let's start a restaurant called Kim Son. Let's, said Vietnam. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see if you can still flush the urinals by stepping on a wooden board, but I did have me some nice lemongrass tofu and brown rice and grease-bomb (in a good way) fried egg rolls. If the beautiful magic that is Kim Son is any indication, China and Vietnam should join hands more often in restaurant land.
Dickie Brennan's Bourbon House -- After an exhausting day on Bourbon Street -- getting chafed from marathon lap dances, puking chunky blood and bribing a cop with a wallet full of crisp hundreds only to have him violate 42 U.S.C. sec. 1983 by tasering my balls off -- all I wanted was a restorative bowl of soup. And boy did this place do me. They have a creamy cauliflower number that'll make you feel fresh as a field of daisies. With fabric softener.
Lebanon's -- If everyone in Beirut had been eating the vegetarian grape leaves at Lebanon's back in the '80s, they would've been too satiated to pull the pins on all those grenades. While we were there, personal injury lawyer extraordinaire Morris Bart rolled up. I screamed, "Hey, Buddy!" That's his nickname. He immediately scampered over to our table to pay tribute to me. "Dazee," he said, "you are one hell of an attorney at law." "Well, I do declare, Buddy," I said, "you are one hell of a human being."
Beaucoup Nola -- The snowball I had was so weak in flavor, I wanted to punch it in the nuts.
Showing posts with label Metairie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Metairie. Show all posts
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Tandoori Chicken
2916 Cleary Ave Metairie,889-7880 (LD)
Don't be fooled by the name, this is the best Indian food in town. It used to be located in the CBD, close to my work, and I ate there all the time. Sadly, it's moved to the suburbs, but if you're going out that way, you should dash over for some excellent buffet.
The owners have described the menu, which I think is Punjabi, as Indian soul food, and brother man, I say, raise a fist in salute. This place is never crowded, but the masses can go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut. You can get tiny French lentils, mixed vegetables, aloo chole, and eggplant, but you're in the wrong place if you're looking for the kind of delicate Indian food that prances around on your tongue. This is comfort food, thick with plenty of oil and spiced with reckless abandon. Wipe up that stew with a yummy roti (tell 'em, to sub it for the naan, and your wish is their command). And if you're feeling extra bossy, ask for spinach without cream or cheese. This is the way the cook himself eats it, and if he's feelin it, he'll share the goodness (though I would suggest adding salt). And now even more insider info: If you luck out and hit this place on Friday or Saturday round about lunchtime, you'll find samosas on the buffet. Horde 'em And don't forget the lemon pickle--them's some good shit right there. You can get a dangerously heavy clamshell's worth of all this stuff for $5.99, or you can pig out in the dining room till your stomach needs stapling for $8.99. Tandoori Chicken, your name sucks, but I don't care what the others say -- I am desperately, gloriously, unhealthily in love with you.
Don't be fooled by the name, this is the best Indian food in town. It used to be located in the CBD, close to my work, and I ate there all the time. Sadly, it's moved to the suburbs, but if you're going out that way, you should dash over for some excellent buffet.
The owners have described the menu, which I think is Punjabi, as Indian soul food, and brother man, I say, raise a fist in salute. This place is never crowded, but the masses can go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut. You can get tiny French lentils, mixed vegetables, aloo chole, and eggplant, but you're in the wrong place if you're looking for the kind of delicate Indian food that prances around on your tongue. This is comfort food, thick with plenty of oil and spiced with reckless abandon. Wipe up that stew with a yummy roti (tell 'em, to sub it for the naan, and your wish is their command). And if you're feeling extra bossy, ask for spinach without cream or cheese. This is the way the cook himself eats it, and if he's feelin it, he'll share the goodness (though I would suggest adding salt). And now even more insider info: If you luck out and hit this place on Friday or Saturday round about lunchtime, you'll find samosas on the buffet. Horde 'em And don't forget the lemon pickle--them's some good shit right there. You can get a dangerously heavy clamshell's worth of all this stuff for $5.99, or you can pig out in the dining room till your stomach needs stapling for $8.99. Tandoori Chicken, your name sucks, but I don't care what the others say -- I am desperately, gloriously, unhealthily in love with you.
Whole Foods Market
5600 Magazine St., 899-9119; 3420 Veterans Blvd, Metairie, 888-8225 (BLD)
I'm not sure if you've ever heard of it, but there's this tiny little chain of grocery stores that has the kept unionization to a perfect zero percent, even though Whole Foods dictator John Mackey believes in the free will of the individual. Apparently he makes an exception when he's capitalizing on your labor. So a big fuck you to United Auto Workers, but a big fuck yeah to vegan food. Go get the Fair Trade chocolate chips and the one or two other vegan items in the store, but don't tell anyone, or soon you'll find yourself waiting an hour for a space in the parking lot.
Extra bonus review of Whole Foods' pizza: if you dig New York-style pizza, the Whole Foods uptown probably does the best reasonable facsimile. In addition to the usual toppings, you can pile it high with the most scrumptious yuppie delights, including artichoke hearts, button and portabello mushrooms, a mix of eggplant, squash and zucchini, and sundried tomatoes. Just watch out for the Hummers with the Kerry/Edwards bumper stickers whizzing around the parking lot.
I'm not sure if you've ever heard of it, but there's this tiny little chain of grocery stores that has the kept unionization to a perfect zero percent, even though Whole Foods dictator John Mackey believes in the free will of the individual. Apparently he makes an exception when he's capitalizing on your labor. So a big fuck you to United Auto Workers, but a big fuck yeah to vegan food. Go get the Fair Trade chocolate chips and the one or two other vegan items in the store, but don't tell anyone, or soon you'll find yourself waiting an hour for a space in the parking lot.
Extra bonus review of Whole Foods' pizza: if you dig New York-style pizza, the Whole Foods uptown probably does the best reasonable facsimile. In addition to the usual toppings, you can pile it high with the most scrumptious yuppie delights, including artichoke hearts, button and portabello mushrooms, a mix of eggplant, squash and zucchini, and sundried tomatoes. Just watch out for the Hummers with the Kerry/Edwards bumper stickers whizzing around the parking lot.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Casablanca
Casablanca, 3030 Severn Ave., Metairie, 504-888-2209
(Kosher, Middle Eastern , LD)
My ancestors stopped being kosher about three or four generations after we climbed down out of the trees. When I grew up, the last vestiges of this quaint little ritual meant that we could pack in the sausage or bacon but not pork or ham. Yeah, we were really assimilating, man. I've never really understood why you could eat as much campylobacter-stuffed chicken as you want, but the noble pig is somehow off limits. Whatever. I will, say, though, that the anti-cheeseburger set really does me right sometimes. Like Casablanca. The bad news here is the meat. The good news is that this means dairy stops at the door. So you get tadziki and, rumor has it, chocolate mousse pie made with soy. Kittee liked the grape leaves, heavy on the dill, but I say the rice inside is too dry. The combo appetizer is bi-polar. I don't like overly lemon-juiced hummus, but Casablanca's left me crying for more. I thought the falafel and baba ghanoush were too bland and the tabouli too soggy. I was also annoyed by the fluffy moistness of the pita bread. Fluffiness doesn't seem like a bad thing when you think about it, but I wanted the traditional flatter, drier version. Maybe I'm just a whiner. The spinach pie was more of a solid, vaguely cheesy mass than the delicate flaky thing I'm used to, but I liked it just the same. I also kind of liked the spicy red eggplant dip, which was very non-wimpy. I will defend the fresh fries to the death, though--they might be the best in town. If you want something more down-homey, go for the couscous with mixed vegetables. And don't forget to slap the rabbi on the back if you see him.
Kittee informs me this isn't her favorite review. She wants me to say that the tadziki is made with Tofutti sour cream ("I can tell") and that the grape leaves are big doo-doo size fatties. There, happy, kittee?
(Kosher, Middle Eastern , LD)
My ancestors stopped being kosher about three or four generations after we climbed down out of the trees. When I grew up, the last vestiges of this quaint little ritual meant that we could pack in the sausage or bacon but not pork or ham. Yeah, we were really assimilating, man. I've never really understood why you could eat as much campylobacter-stuffed chicken as you want, but the noble pig is somehow off limits. Whatever. I will, say, though, that the anti-cheeseburger set really does me right sometimes. Like Casablanca. The bad news here is the meat. The good news is that this means dairy stops at the door. So you get tadziki and, rumor has it, chocolate mousse pie made with soy. Kittee liked the grape leaves, heavy on the dill, but I say the rice inside is too dry. The combo appetizer is bi-polar. I don't like overly lemon-juiced hummus, but Casablanca's left me crying for more. I thought the falafel and baba ghanoush were too bland and the tabouli too soggy. I was also annoyed by the fluffy moistness of the pita bread. Fluffiness doesn't seem like a bad thing when you think about it, but I wanted the traditional flatter, drier version. Maybe I'm just a whiner. The spinach pie was more of a solid, vaguely cheesy mass than the delicate flaky thing I'm used to, but I liked it just the same. I also kind of liked the spicy red eggplant dip, which was very non-wimpy. I will defend the fresh fries to the death, though--they might be the best in town. If you want something more down-homey, go for the couscous with mixed vegetables. And don't forget to slap the rabbi on the back if you see him.
Kittee informs me this isn't her favorite review. She wants me to say that the tadziki is made with Tofutti sour cream ("I can tell") and that the grape leaves are big doo-doo size fatties. There, happy, kittee?
Byblos
Byblos, 3218 Magazine St., 504-894-1233; 1501 Metairie Road, Metairie, 504-834-9773
(Middle Easter, LD)
(This review refers to the Uptown restaurant, the Metairie location is more of a deli and is counter service only).
I've never been to a fancier Middle Eastern restaurant. The serving staff are prettier'n Barbie and Ken with a radical makeover. You also get to eat on glamorous white tablecloths and stab your falafel balls with forks so heavy you need a fucking crane to lift them.
My advice is too ignore all the rich bitches surrounding you and just dig into the mezze. You can pick from the standards like falafel, hummus, and baba ganoush or go cuh-cuh-cuh-crazy with grape leaves, mujadarah, foul, and brown rice. Stay away from the spinach, which seems to be sauteed in butter. And make sure you ask if the spinach pies are vegan because I've forgotten now, and I'm too damn lazy to call and confirm this.
Plus, on Thursdays, you get to pitch an R-rated tent over all the belly dancers shakin' and bakin' right past your table
(Middle Easter, LD)
(This review refers to the Uptown restaurant, the Metairie location is more of a deli and is counter service only).
I've never been to a fancier Middle Eastern restaurant. The serving staff are prettier'n Barbie and Ken with a radical makeover. You also get to eat on glamorous white tablecloths and stab your falafel balls with forks so heavy you need a fucking crane to lift them.
My advice is too ignore all the rich bitches surrounding you and just dig into the mezze. You can pick from the standards like falafel, hummus, and baba ganoush or go cuh-cuh-cuh-crazy with grape leaves, mujadarah, foul, and brown rice. Stay away from the spinach, which seems to be sauteed in butter. And make sure you ask if the spinach pies are vegan because I've forgotten now, and I'm too damn lazy to call and confirm this.
Plus, on Thursdays, you get to pitch an R-rated tent over all the belly dancers shakin' and bakin' right past your table
Kosher Cajun Deli & Grocery
Kosher Cajun New York Deli & Grocery, 3520 N. Hullen St., Metairie, 504-888-2010
(Deli, LD)
Veganism and Zionism hook up and make some beautiful love in Kosher Cajun. I mean, they totally get it on. Shit. I haven't ordered anything from the deli, but who cares, because Kosher Cajun's store is stocked full of vegan treats. Put all of these on your shopping list: vegan white chocolate chips, confectioner's glaze-free jimmies, containers of Tofutti cream cheese and sour cream; a 48-piece assortment of Mon Cuisine Frozen Foods Vegetarian Vegan Party Favorites, including pigs in a blanket. And then you can celebrate the continued mass murder and oppression of Palestinians by moseying over to the clothing section and picking up your very own Israeli Defense Forces jacket. Fantasize about mowing down a rock-throwing Palestinian child with your Bazooka while chewing on the Israeli version of the namesake bubble-gum. Mazel tov!
(Deli, LD)
Veganism and Zionism hook up and make some beautiful love in Kosher Cajun. I mean, they totally get it on. Shit. I haven't ordered anything from the deli, but who cares, because Kosher Cajun's store is stocked full of vegan treats. Put all of these on your shopping list: vegan white chocolate chips, confectioner's glaze-free jimmies, containers of Tofutti cream cheese and sour cream; a 48-piece assortment of Mon Cuisine Frozen Foods Vegetarian Vegan Party Favorites, including pigs in a blanket. And then you can celebrate the continued mass murder and oppression of Palestinians by moseying over to the clothing section and picking up your very own Israeli Defense Forces jacket. Fantasize about mowing down a rock-throwing Palestinian child with your Bazooka while chewing on the Israeli version of the namesake bubble-gum. Mazel tov!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Okinago
Okinago, 2712 N. Arnoult Rd., Metairie, 504-780-8588 (LD)
Okinago sets out a sprawling buffet of not-half-bad Japanese and Chinese items, not half-bad a'tall. You get the inevitable slightly stale tinge of buffet food slowly dessicating in the open air, but the variety will put you in a gleeful mood. There's everything from seaweed salad to pickled vegetables to vegetable sushi and saucy Chinese possibilities (no MSG, I was told), too.
Okinago sets out a sprawling buffet of not-half-bad Japanese and Chinese items, not half-bad a'tall. You get the inevitable slightly stale tinge of buffet food slowly dessicating in the open air, but the variety will put you in a gleeful mood. There's everything from seaweed salad to pickled vegetables to vegetable sushi and saucy Chinese possibilities (no MSG, I was told), too.
Miyako
Miyako, 1403 St. Charles Ave., 504-410-9997; 3837 Veterans Blvd., 504-779-6475;
(Japanese, Sushi, LD)
Miyako advertises the largest hibachi tables in town. If you can deal with the stench of sizzling meat soiling your nostrils, you could do worse than eat here. There's a vegetable tempura entree (maybe vegan, maybe not) and the St. Charles location is right on the streetcar line.
(Japanese, Sushi, LD)
Miyako advertises the largest hibachi tables in town. If you can deal with the stench of sizzling meat soiling your nostrils, you could do worse than eat here. There's a vegetable tempura entree (maybe vegan, maybe not) and the St. Charles location is right on the streetcar line.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Taj Mahal
Taj Mahal, 923-C Metairie Road, Metairie, LA 504-836-6859
(Indian, LD)
I can't recommend this place. I can't not recommend it. You won't love it. You won't hate it. I pretty much don't remember jack shit about this place except that one waiter looked like Hunter S. Thompson, and the room was as stuffy as my dead grandma's armpit.
(Indian, LD)
I can't recommend this place. I can't not recommend it. You won't love it. You won't hate it. I pretty much don't remember jack shit about this place except that one waiter looked like Hunter S. Thompson, and the room was as stuffy as my dead grandma's armpit.
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