A good restaurant can truly alter one's consciousness. AFter a miserable taxi ride to JFK and an almost as miserable flight, I arrived at my hotel at 9, hungry, hostile, and still bobbing from the turbulent flight.
I was hungry but lazy, and chose to have my first meal at Mr. B's Bistro, which I've always considered a highly underrated restaurant, and my favorite in the Brennan chain.
The service is always fantastic at Mr. B's. The place was packed, closing the kitchen at 10:00 P.M., and I was dining solo, all usually danger signs.
No fear. I was treated like a king. Even better, I was fed like a king. Gumbo YaYa wasn't quite hot enough (in temperature, that is), but as always, the chicken was succulent and the andouille impeccable. Not a great gumbo, but a very, very good one.
The revelation, though, was the braised rabbit, cooked in apple cider, with house smoked bacon, shallots, shitake mushrooms, and accompanied by roasted garlic mashed potatoes. Absolutely superb, and I felt proud that I refused the "snack" on the plane.
That's still no excuse for ordering the bread pudding after such a rich entree, but what the heck. Now that Eddie's is no more, it may just be the best bread pudding in New Orleans. No gimmicks, just perfectly spiced bread, with some crisp parts on the bottom, and a perfectly balanced buttered hard sauce.
I left a happy, happy man.
And note to Jim: I found some Zapp's sweet potato chips, although for obvious reasons, I haven't sampled them yet.
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