Risky Business....

Hello again, it’s that old thing about doing things gets in the way of talking about doing things. I’m going to fast forward over many, (many, many) miles of deserts, mountains, two lunches with two good friends, a great “off” half day in San Antonio and the River Walk, a good Mexican/Southwestern dinner, and catch up on those later because they do deserve talking about and looking at. So here we are in the Big Easy for welcome day of lay over.

I was struck last night by the “taking a risk” thought I had about Tapenade in La Jolla which turned out to be unfounded. Many (repeat) years ago, when I was beginning to wake up to what good food can mean, I tagged along with MFO to a library convention that was held here in New Orleans. I had done a little research and read some magazine articles, and was attracted to a restaurant called Bayona with (then) a lauded chef, Susan Spicer. It was on this same trip we were treated to Dookie Chase. Anyway, I had a night to myself so took the chance to visit Bayona. I don’t remember about drink tests, but I do remember that after much consideration, I had my first dish of Sweetbreads, and found out how things you might fear putting in your mouth can delight you when you do. That meal has remained high on the list of “memorables” in my aging brain. So, it was with much anticipation (and yes, high expectations) we decided to make Bayona our first meal of three planned here in New Orleans: lunch today (an adventure) and dinner tonight.

Over 500 miles from San Antonio found us getting here around 7:00, giving enough time to undialate our eyes, relax a bit, DFD, and still make our 8:30 reservation (it was that or 6 when we called to reserve). Not wanting another driving adventure in the Momster, we took a cab and arrived at the quiet street (Rue Dauphine), and entered at the side of the quaint old building.. Good evening Mr. Moody, your table is not quite ready, but please have a seat in the lounge and enjoy a drink for a few minutes. We joined about 6 others in a similar situation, and eventually the hostess took our drink order. MFO selected a glass of white “Mastroberardi” which we assumed was Italian. I did the standard drink test, and was asked what bourbon I preferred, a good sign. About this time we became aware (we couldn’t avoid it) of the party at the other end of the salon, which contained a gentleman who apparently assumed that everyone eagerly wanted to know what he was thinking at any particular moment. One of those people who sort of “perform” in a grand voice proclaiming loudly that he would like a drink, what did the ladies want, and so forth. Mercifully their table was ready and they departed with much self appointed fan fare. We secretly prayed that our table wasn’t adjoining theirs (which proved to be true, thank you very much).

Before our drinks arrived we were shown to our table, a four top against the back wall, providing an excellent view of the whole room. Although memories of the food remained, any trace of the space had vanished. Tables were nicely set with white linen, silver utensils, and crystal. The walls were covered in a light chocolate colored fabric, and there were several panels of mirrors with muntins giving the effect of windows and opening up the space. Quite comfortable. We were approached by a young man in a blue shirt and slacks who brought with him a little amuse bouche of house pickled olives, cauliflower, and garlic cloves (I had to ask).. I was surprised, because we got the “Hi I’m …. . be taking care of you along with …… tonight”, and when he was advised our drinks were on order, he departed. Eventually the other half of the team arrived and said the bar was a bit backed up but our drinks would be right out. We probably were now 20 minutes or so after ordering them. The room was pretty full, so we were not surprised. After another few minutes, they did arrive, and I am pleased to report that they passed the test with a perfectly prepared dry Manhattan. MFO’s wine was characterizes as “flinty”, and was served at a drinkable temperature instead of the all too common ice box cold. At that point she also asked if we had been there before, and when I replied it was years ago, she thanked me for coming back (with a twinkle) and said she would explain the menu anyway. On one side of the two page menu were the classic dishes, called the “signature dinner menu” which have not changed in 20 years (and did contain those sweetbreads); while the other was printed the day (with date) with the daily selections.

Signature starters had things like: Goat Cheese Crouton with Mushrooms in Madeira Cream, and Grilled Shrimp with Black Bean Cake and Coriander Sauce;
entrees included those “Veal Sweetbreads with Sherry Mustard or Lemon Caper Butter” along with “Grilled Duck Breast with Pepper Jelly Sauce and Wild Rice”. There were not many choices in each category, but each were tempting.

Daily specials included things a bit farther afield like starters of Grilled Tomatoes, Warm Pancetta & Arugula, Shaved Pecorino, Balsamic Vinegar, and Coho Salmon Tartare, Smoked Salmon Beignet & Grilled Salmon Belly Gravlax. The main courses included options such as Andouille-stuffed Rabbit Roulade & Buttermilk Fried Leg, Smothered Greens, Stoneground Grits, Creole Mustard Sauce; Niman Ranch Pork Chop, Rosemary, Crispy Polenta, Broccoli Raab, Roasted Red Pepper-Garlic Relish

She highlighted a couple of dishes here and there letting us know that “this is one of my favorites”. Okay hold it right there, lady…I was surprised that in this high end restaurant, there had now been two of what I consider amateurish service blunders. The name thing and the server telling me what she liked. Who needs that?? If I say I’m interested in seafood, she can suggest, but I’m not about to select something because my server likes it. I don’t know her tastes.

Thank you, we’ll consider, and off she went. Bread was delivered and we munched while thinking about our selections. Finally, after the second Manhattan, I couldn’t resist re-visiting those sweetbreads, this time as a starter, and then when in the south, go for the rabbit with Boudin, and MFO selected a salad with fried egg, and for her main course the peppered lamb loin with goat cheese and Zinfandel sauce. That settled, we turned to the wine list which was extensive. For instance there were 21 sparkling wines, with some obscure labels and many 3 figure prices. All the other categories were equally filled with many choices, domestic and foreign. Given our food selections, I easily fell for Pinot, and since we were “on vacation” I went for a Burgundy, an ’06 Fixin 1er Cru, Clos Napoleon from Domaine Pierre Gelin. 06 wasn’t a huge vintage, but usually premier crus make the best of what they have, and besides this wine wasn’t one of those 3 figure jobs.. The wine appeared exactly as on the wine list (always check), and it tasted fine.

The food soon arrived and without going on and on, it was as exquisite as I had hoped. Everything on the plate stood on its own, the sweetbreads, the rabbit, the sausage the grits, and MFO’s lamb was exactly as described for “medium” pink, warm center.

Throughout the meal our server checked occasionally, but it seemed that while she asked, her eyes were darting to other tables, and it was more perfunctorial than a real interest in our well being. About half way through, the table next to us turned, and four people were seated that MFO characterized as “soprano like”. Well DFD’d for sure, but another centerpiece show. Kind of loud, cell phones constantly being eyed or texting, that kind of thing. Not much consideration for anybody but themselves. Fortunately we were pretty much through, and just before we left, they were joined by (and I’m not making this up) two people in jeans and tee shirts with writing on the back. No evidence of self conciousness, they sat down and joined the hoopla. When our server brought the (considerable) check, we mentioned that we thought they were inappropriately dressed, and she said something like “yes, but what can you do?”

Well, I’ll tell you what you can do, you can follow Bayona’s own dress code “the requested attire at Bayona is casually elegant or business casual. We do not require coats or ties for gentlemen”.

Since we had to wait for a cab, we expressed the same sentiment to at least that evening’s manager, and didn’t get much of a response. I’m sure that table will generate three or four times what our table did, but our table was disappointed.

So this time the risk of going back was realized, but not for the food which was again outstanding, but for service that to me didn’t fit the restaurant and the lack of others respect for the food. In the end, I would almost have to say we felt “processed” rather than served. Will we go back? Sure, we would, but it wouldn’t be without some trepidation.. and, we (as were the great preponderance of other diners) were

DFD

And PS to my newly found cyber friend formerly from NO, I would be interested if you ever go back now some 8 years later and see what you think….