Modest Bounty

My first trip to NOLA ended this past Monday morning but it finished with great fanfare, Sunday evening, Mother’s Day at John Besh’s August. Mine was a working long weekend and so I was a little tired overall and am looking forward to my next visit — the city only left me with a longer and better “to do”list. But the highlight for me was the food and the pinnacle of my weekend had to be August.

I mean no disrespect to the other establishments I enjoyed, because I ate my way through New Orleans and each meal was truly delicious. I started with Emeril’s (a great Pinot, incredible soft shell crabs, and a double cut pork chop served on a bed of cinnamon sweet potatoes — hearty, burly, commanding), then a Brennan establishment Saturday (I don’t remember which one) that began with an incredible crab claw appetizer, moved to a shrimp entree I can’t pronounce (tch-something) and then finished with bananas foster and we wandered after a long hot day into that one. Incredible.

But August was deliberate and I had made reservations before we headed south to dine there on Mother’s Day — this one was just for me. The menu posted online was enough of an enticement, but when we arrived a little early for cocktails the ambiance only added to my anticipation. The bar is richly paneled in wood and is seperated from the main dining area by beautiful antique glass doors. I ordered a French 75 (first ever) and was not disappointed. The diner next to me inquired about my cocktail and soon was ordering the very same.

We moved into the main room which is not particularly large — cozy with exposed brick, high ceilings and windows and chandeliers, elegant but not imposing. Our wait staff couldn’t have been nicer or more informative, guiding us every step of the way. No, I am not accustomed to dining in such establishments often. I settled on a warm crawfish salad from the tasting menu and then a sugar and spice duck entree. Before I could get started an amuse arrived at my table — a kind of garlic infused sabayonne with a garlic crouton, melt in your mouth perfection. Now I’m anxiously anticipating the next course.

The salad with a garlic aoili was simple, delicious and very pretty to look at — not an overwhelming chop but a delicate display and just enough, again, to get me anticipating the next course. The star of the evening, by far was my duck, perfectly roasted and served on a bed of the creamiest polenta I’ve ever had with a little foie, greens and candied quince to complement the main course. It was a great balance of flavors and looked beautiful on the plate.

I wasn’t about to leave August (who knew if I’d ever be back … are you kidding me … hooked … planning a return this summer with my daughters) without experiencing dessert. A kind of salty brittle napoleon with a layer of chocolate mousse and a layer of genoise topped with what I think was some type of hazelnut ice cream. I don’t know, I was so far gone at that point I just remember closing my eyes and shaking my head. I finished my meal with a local coffee and floated out of the restaurant.

A great big thank you to the chef, the staff, the farmer producers and my french heritage for a meal I will never forget. You don’t know what you don’t know until you taste it. And then you know great food.