Galatoire's 209 Bourbon Street in the French Quarter 525.2021 ***** The late Tip O'Neil's most memorable line was "All politics are local." I'd like to adapt this to the New Orleans dining scene a bit by saying, "all restaurants are neighborhood ones." It may be that a restaurant advertises heavily to attract a more metropolitan crowd, but it still remains that the place must be attractive to those living around it for it to be successful. An example: Brennan's on Rue Royal is in the heart of the "tourist" section of the Quarter. Its "neighbors" are the visitors to our city, looking for a place for lunch or dinner as they explore the Quarter. By the same token, Emeril's attracts lots of folks from the Warehouse District, and Commander's Palace from Uptown. Galatoire's is also a neighborhood restaurant, but its 'hood is not the Quarter, in spite of its Rue Bourbon location. The neighborhood from which Galatoire's draws a lot of its business is the Central Business District, or CBD. Galatoire's attracts a heavy business clientele for lunch (Anne R. writes about how the lawyers in the Mayfair family take Rowan to lunch there in The Witching Hour). Early Dinner (5pm-7pm) is also a downtown crowd, when the folks who have been downtown shopping stop in before heading back Uptown. Families come in, some with small children, for dinner with their parents (it helps to have Grandma to help with the little ones…) If it wasn't for the tourists and the better standards of dress among the regular patrons, you'd think you were at a place like R&O's in Bucktown. Of course, you know you're not as soon as the first bite of food hits your mouth, anyway. We went to Galatoire's on a Saturday Night, which is not their best night. Still, a Saturday in Lent is usually better than a Friday, given the strong Catholic following that still exists in New Orleans. (Like going for seafood at Galatoire's is some big Lenten sacrifice, that is.) Galatoire's doesn't take reservations; everyone lines up in front, and they take you in order as tables come ready (they open for dinner at 5:00pm). We were shooting for getting down there around 6:30, and made it for around 6:45. This is a good time, since the folks that were there when the place opened were just about ready to leave. There were two parties in front of us (one a couple, one four people), and we waited about 15 minutes or so. Shoot, there are restaurants in town that keep you waiting longer than that even when you have reservations! Not long after we were next in line, the maitre d' offered us a non-smoking table, but he cautioned that it was right near the front door. That's a bad idea on a cold night, but not a problem on this evening, so we took it. I sat Helen with her back to the door, which allowed me to observe some of the comings and goings. This is fun, because it gave me a chance to observe a long-standing tradition that fewer and fewer restaurants in town adhere to: a dress code. Men who want to eat dinner at Galatoire's must wear a jacket. Oh, you left your hotel in shirtsleeves, or you've been out shopping on Canal Street all afternoon? No problem--they'll gladly loan you one. There are two coat racks on either side of the front door. One holds tan jackets, the other navy blue. They're bound to have something that won't look totally obnoxious with your ensemble. The first thing that strikes you when you enter through the double set of doors at Galatoire's is how bright the place is. It's one of the reasons that Galatoire's will most likely never be on my Top Ten Romantic Restaurant List. The place is extremely well lit, the wallpaper is bright, but it's the mirrors that run around the entire dining room that really enhances the effect. There are mirror panels about three feet in height that run from about four feet above the floor to seven feet. The dining room is rectangular, and holds about 60 tables. Galatoire's isn't a big restaurant when compared to Arnaud's or Antoine's, which both have multiple dining rooms of varying sizes. To sum it up, Galatoire's is not what most people expect from a restaurant of its caliber. In many ways, it's not unlike a true "neighborhood" place like Liuzza's or Mandina's. And that's part of its charm. Once seated, our waiter greeted us and things got rolling. We ordered cocktails and had a look at the menu. Don't let the steak and chicken dishes on the menu fool you--Galatoire's is a seafood restaurant. Sure, you'll get a great steak, and Chicken Clemenceau is one of my favorite dishes (both to enjoy there and to cook at home), but I would be remiss to suggest that you get anything but seafood as an entrée on your first visit to Galatoire's. Like many of New Orleans' better restaurants, the menu at Galatoire's features a "specialties" page before the usual categories we expect to see. Whenever you're dining at a place where you know the reputation of the restaurant, but nobody has suggested specific dishes, it's a good idea to stick to the house specialties. We both ordered Shrimp Remoulade for the appetizer. Normally I'd get something different from Helen, to check out as much as possible, but Galatoire's remoulade sauce is too good to be missed, and Helen doesn't care for oysters (Oysters en Brochette being the other signature appetizer there). Just as our waiter left to put in the orders, a bus boy clad in a pristine white jacket appeared with ice water and a warm loaf of French bread, another old New Orleans tradition. The shrimp came out in short order. There were only four shrimp on the plate, but they were big (20-count or so), so it was like having 6-8 at another time of the year. The remoulade sauce was good and tangy--lots of horseradish. I ended up eating most of the lettuce on the plate, just to savor the sauce! We continued to nibble on the bread and sip at our wine (Chateau Montelena Chardonnay '95) until the entrees arrived. For the main course, we both went with seafood specialties. Helen had Crabmeat Ravigote, which is lump crabmeat in a white sauce with lots of green onions. This wonderful mixture is served in a mini-casserole dish. I ordered Trout Marguery, which is a nice-sized trout filet that is rolled, then lightly browned, then smothered with a white sauce which includes shrimp, mushrooms, garlic, and a hint of cheese. This is classic Creole-French cooking--start with something simple and readily available (fish or crabmeat), and envelope it in a rich, well-seasoned sauce. While each entrée was more than a meal in itself, we also ordered a side dish of Brabant Potatoes. These are cubed potatoes that are fried in oil with more than a hint of garlic, then served with a parsley garnish. Yup, they're French fries, but there's something about them at Galatoire's that I just can't duplicate at home. Along with all this, a fresh loaf of bread appeared, and we settled in for an exciting meal. Helen's crabmeat was excellent, though so rich that there was no way she could finish it (no problem, they wrapped it up for her). My trout was close to being too much food, considering the potatoes and bread. What impressed me most about the dish was the size of the shrimp. Like our appetizers, the shrimp in the Marguery sauce were quite large. Here, however, they were cut in half or thirds, to make them more bite-sized. By the way, if the notion of all of this rich white sauce is not appealing to you, or if you don't want to eat a heart attack, just ask them to broil up a piece of the trout for you. It's not going to be a problem. Sure, the rich sauces are the way we love our food, but the restaurant isn't inflexible. Most places in town aren't. After all, that piece of trout was pretty healthy before the sauce was ladled on top of it. The wine was a perfect complement to the entrees. Chardonnay is the perfect match for these rich sauces. I prefer Fume' Blanc or a Riesling with broiled fish, but either a white Burgundy or a California Chardonnay makes the right wine for traditional Creole seafood. The Chateau Montelena was a bit pricey for me--I originally wanted a Mondavi that was $32/bottle, but the restaurant didn't have it, so we went with the waiter's recommendation. Service at Galatoire's is, well, unique. Over the years, we've heard complaints from visitors to New Orleans who felt that the service at Galatoire's was brusque, almost rude at times. The problem here is that the wait staff has an attitude that's more in keeping with a traditional New Orleans restaurant than a classic Michelin five-star place. The waiters at Galatoire's are efficient and to-the-point. There's no fussing over you and your food. Sure, they'll engage in a bit of conversation (they're New Orleanians, after all), but they're not as chatty as the folks at Arnaud's. Take dessert time for example. The bus boy had already cleared our table when the waiter came back up to see how things were going. I asked what was good for dessert, and he just said "Nothing except the caramel custard. Save your money." Now, most folks I hear from complain about that kind of attitude. It almost sounds like the guy was trying to clear us out, to turn the table over for the next party. You'd just about expect to see him reappear instantly with the check. But this didn't happen. We lingered over our wine for much longer than it would have taken to eat dessert. They didn't bother us one bit. After it was obvious that we were finished, our waiter brought the check. It's an attitude you'd expect at a much more casual place, so I guess it hangs some people up. New Orleanians are interested in the food, not the trappings. At Galatoire's, you get great food, the staff gets it to you efficiently, and they tell the truth about it. Locals just can't ask for more. The check: the tab came to $103 with tax. The wine was $40, which put dinner at around $50. I left $120, so that was a $17 tip. That was most likely a bit on the high side, given the cost of the wine, but it seemed appropriate. We then headed out for some dessert, specifically café au lait and beignets at Café du Monde. But that's another article.
New Orleans, LA