Galatoire's

This isn't really a food blog. I mean, it is - this first post is about one of New Orleans' most famous restaurants - but I'm no foodie. I don't know much about culinary traditions, wine vintages, unusual vegetables, or celebrity chefs. Not that I don't want to learn more about these things as I go along. But I've had other priorities, like finishing grad school, turning 30, and trying to build a career, you know?

Jackson Square in the French Quarter

Fortunately, my ignorance by some strange math works out in this case, because New Orleans isn't really a foodie place. I realize that may be a strange thing to say about a city that I'm also calling one of America's culinary capitals. When I first moved here, someone told me that one of the most wonderful and unique qualities of living in New Orleans is getting to experience the love that the community has for its food and music. Food is tradition, identity, and history here. Knowledge of and respect for good food spreads much farther across class boundaries than I'd ever expected to see. You can have (and I have had) the same enthusiastic conversations about the best food and restaurants in New Orleans with the guy who cuts your wood at Home depot as with a college professor. The term "foodie" often carries connotations of exclusivity, luxury, and a certain preciousness about food that for me don't generally apply to New Orleans, despite the good eating. 

Galatoire's is a fascinating restaurant. It's a New Orleans institution, established in 1905 (when it took over the location of another institution that had been around since the 1830s!) and still run by the same family today. It was named the outstanding restaurant in America by the James Beard Foundation in 2004. It requires men to wear suit jackets in order to enter the dining room (and will lend you one if you forgot). Yet for all that, it's also startlingly utilitarian - almost casual - where you wouldn't expect. Butter doesn't arrive on your bread plate as petite, molded pats or in tiny, covered pots, but as squares sliced right off the whole stick. Glassware is functional. Rather than creating a hushed, romantically lit tableau for your food, Galatoire's ground floor dining room is brightly lit, tiled, and noisy. In fact, it fairly rings with the raised voices of diners who have overindulged in wine, who are celebrating yet another birthday at the restaurant, who are joking familiarly with the waiter who they have known and requested for years. A carefully coiffed woman in her 80s wore a sparkling, sequined jacket and a brightly colored birthday hat; another family festooned their table with mylar balloons ... you get the idea. It's a place of tradition, and a very particular tradition at that. In fact, aside from the servers and a small group tucked into a corner, I was noticeably the only non-white person in the room, so there is a very different kind of exclusivity in place at this particular restaurant. 

Champagne and water is how we roll. Photo courtesy of B's cell phone.

The food at Galatoire's is outstanding. The Crab Maison arrived as a cold salad constructed from jumbo lump crab meat and mayonnaise, which I fully expected to dislike, but actually loved. It was lightly creamy and fresh tasting: the cold sea transformed into an American classic. I was reminded of the stately old Hotel del Coronado at the edge of the ocean in San Diego; I felt as if I had stepped into an Edith Wharton novel. The Shrimp Remoulade was spicy with cocktail sauce and more heavily flavored than the Crab Maison, but also managed a lemony lightness that reminded one of where it came from. My entree, the Crabmeat Yvonne was generous portion of jumbo lump crabmeat sauteed in meuniere butter with mushrooms, artichoke hearts, and fresh scallions. Buttery, rich, and vegetal, this dish seemed to speak most to the French aspect of Galatoire's French Creole cuisine.

This shot reminds me of Disneyland. You can take the girl out of Southern California, but ...

I hesitated to start this blog out with a post about fine dining, as this isn't a foodie blog. It is though, in my eyes, a blog about adventures (in food) in a new city. Galatoire's somehow captures so much about what is strange, uncomfortable, and wonderful about my New Orleans experience so far. I'm excited to begin here. 

Note: I'm not sure if I would have ever ventured into Galatoire's on my own, so I'm grateful that B's parents generously invited us out to dinner here. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get good pictures of the food, so you'll have to rely on your imagination here. Or plan a visit to Galatoire's yourself!