Healthy and happy at Dante's Kitchen

All last week, starting on Sunday, I was feeling decidedly ill. Then, after I visited the doctor on Wednesday and was prescribed antibiotics, I experienced an allergic reaction to the medicine and felt even worse (itching from head to foot all night long). It wasn't until Saturday morning that I finally began feeling like myself again and I knew exactly what would perk me up after such a miserable week....a decadent cheat!

I'd been dreaming about breakfast (read bacon) all week long, so it seemed only natural for John and I to walk a few blocks down the road to Dante's Kitchen to enjoy what was sure to be an ambrosial brunch. This is my 71st cheat and I am down 79 pounds.

John and I had both been to Dante's before, but we've never visited for brunch mainly due to the fact that on weekends, we are lazy bums who lounge in bed all morning and barely manage to drag our butts out of bed by noon. This Saturday though, I bounced out of bed at 9 am and we were out the door and walking to the restaurant at the end of Dante Street by 10:30. I had heard how popular brunch can be at Dante's and I wanted to be sure to get a table without too much of a wait.

Though the restaurant was busy when we arrived, there were still some tables left and we were seated immediately. We ordered some coffee while we hemmed and hawed over all the enticing items on the menu. Finally ordering, I took a look around at the dining room which, surprisingly enough, I had never really seen being as I had always sat outside in the past.

Dante's Kitchen was a cute, old Victorian house in a previous life, which would explain why the dining room is actually broken up into several smaller, multi-leveled areas, each one painted a different color. There's a bright  lime-green sun room with tall windows on every wall, a dark red room with a bit more of a formal feel with long curtains and subdued lighting and the entry area near the bar, where we were seated, was a sunny shade of orange. There's even another dining room up a short staircase in the back (which I didn't really get a good look at) and of course, a huge outdoor patio.

As I was admiring some of the funkier art pieces on the walls and the high shelves featuring endless mason jars filled with all kind of wonderful preserves, our appetizer arrived. Though John foresaw a doggie-bag in our future, I couldn't help ordering a plate of their house made breads. There were two, sweet, bite-sized scones flavored with fennel that were wonderfully crumbly and dense and got gobbled up almost immediately. Then there were two cornbread Madelines, a thick hunk of banana-nut bread and delicate muffin full of plump, sweet blueberries.

Before we finished the scones, our main dishes arrived and from that moment, we had eyes for nothing else. I chose the Debris (chopped roast beef) and Poached Eggs which were piled on top of a thick, buttermilk biscuit and draped with a demi-glace Hollandaise sauce. When I broke a perfectly poached egg, it's golden creamy yolk cascaded down onto the rich, spicy roast beef and had me salivating before I even took my first bite. With this mountain of meat, I almost felt bad about ordering a side of thick-sliced, Berkshire bacon...that is until I had a bite. Lucky, I assuaged a bit of my guilt by sharing some with John.

Though he frequently eyed my plate, John's order was equally fabulous, the Dante's Eggs Benedict. Two perfect eggs balanced on top of thick slices of roasted, rosemary flavored pork loin served over a split buttermilk biscuit laced with honey and topped with Hollandaise sauce. It was a wonderful combination of sweet and salty and I think I had almost as many tastes of John's dish as he did of mine.

If there was any of my sickness* remaining when I walked into the restaurant, it was completely gone by the time I walked out. With full bellies and sated smiles on our faces, John and I slowly walked back home. It was the absolute ideal way, in my eyes, to erase the damage of a horrible week.

*By the way, what I had wasn't catching, so if you were at Dante's at the same time I was on Saturday, no worries!

Antoine's Legendary Cakes & Pastries: It's a conspiracy!

As if there weren't enough incredible eateries in the immediate vicinity of my apartment, I just discovered that Antoine's Cakes & Pastries is opening up right around the corner! Admittedly, I was disappointed when Maurice's up and left their Carrollton location a few years ago, but c'mon! This sign already had me salivating for the baked delicacies to come, I even tried to find out if these are the same folks who have a shop in Gretna...does anyone know?

But what it really comes down to is this: I'm onto them and they're wily ways...they want me to stop dieting and gorge myself on the goodies they wave beneath my nose, I just know it. This neighborhood is conspiring to keep me fat!

When I was a tourist: Antoine's Annex

Last week I was running errands in the French Quarter with John, when we stopped into Antoine's Annex for a quick meeting and a cup of coffee. Not that we needed the extra caffeine, we were already bouncing off the walls from the three cups we drank earlier, but sometimes you just have to have one more cup.

Located at 513 Royal Street, the Annex is a clean, well-lit little coffee and sandwich joint which is, I assume from the name, affiliated with Antoine's Restaurant around the corner on St. Louis (which I have not yet visited...I know!). The black & white decor with splashes of color coming only from the photos on the wall or the food on your plate is elegant and inviting, not to mention a huge tourist magnet.

For some reason, I started thinking about when I was a tourist to this city. Over ten years ago when I first visited New Orleans with my mother, I recall the awe and wonder on our faces as we strolled through the Quarter with its historic architecture, decadent food and exquisite shops...oh the shops! I am pretty sure we walked into every single store on Royal Street from Esplanade to Canal. I suppose the memories came flooding back because Antoine's Annex was exactly the type of respite we would have sought on that long, 14-block trek. Even as I sat there, trying not to intrude on a meeting I wasn't involved in, I saw several groups of shopping bag-laden tourists stroll inside to buy a bite to eat or pick up a chocolate gator to take home.

I only stayed long enough to enjoy a delicious Butter Rum Latte, but while I was sipping, it was quite refreshing to take a small trip back into my first memories of the city. I realized that my awe of New Orleans had not diminished - only changed into a deeper, richer understanding of the culture and environs I've always loved...even before I was a wide-eyed tourist.

A taste of Paris in Uptown New Orleans: Tartine

Many years ago, I spent one wonderful week in Paris and it is a trip I will never forget. From the crack of dawn to well past sunset, I dragged my poor mother all over the city to witness every inch possible before returning home. We practically ran through two wings of the Louvre and the entire, impressionist vault at the Musée d'Orsay in one day. A visit to Versailles, an unofficial tour of part of the Sorbonne and dinner on the Seine near the "other" Statue of Liberty filled another. Strangely enough, though most of the trip remains indelibly etched in my memory, I don't recall anything in particular that I ate aside from a fabulous, seven-course luncheon at my friend's house in Auvers-sur-Oise. Oh! I also remember the bread.

Every morning during the weekdays, a huge farmers market would appear on the street in front of our hotel. Since we didn't really have time for breakfast or lunch during our insane, see-the-city-in-seven-days schedule, we would often pick up a couple of  baguettes from one of the vendors and munch bleary-eyed while we waited on the Metro trains to take us to our next destination. 

When I heard about the opening of Tartine on Perrier Street, the first thing that came to my mind was a fervent wish for another taste of those chewy, incredible baguettes...I was not disappointed. A few days ago, Casey, John and I visited Tartine for my 70th cheat. I am still holding steady at a loss of 78 pounds.

The clean, cozy house-turned-bakery was bustling with customers when we arrived, though it was rather late in the lunch hour. The restaurant was so full that, after placing our orders at the counter, we had to choose a table outside on the cute, little wooden patio. Thankfully, it wasn't too cold to enjoy our lunch alfresco. 

Casey and I both ordered a cup of Potato-Leek, the soup of the day and we were served by the talented chef/owner herself, Cara Benson. The smooth, almost perfectly white soup came out steaming hot with a few small rounds of sliced baguette on the side. Now, I make potato soup at home quite often, but it has never resulted in what I experienced at Tartine. 

It was a perfect vichyssoise (a fancy name for potato-leek soup) with a thick, silken texture and a rich onion flavor and a yogurt-tartness at the end. Casey and I "mmmed" at the soup so much, that John finally broke down and asked for a taste. I didn't want to share, but Casey, wanting to save room for her sandwich, gave John the rest of her cup. My only regret was gobbling the delicious, chewy rounds of bread too soon! I didn't have any left to wipe the remnants from my bowl.

As I was considering using my finger to wipe clean my cup, our sandwiches arrived. I ordered the ham sandwich that included thick slices of brie cheese and large, uncut leaves of butter lettuce stuffed lengthwise into a long, thin baguette and slathered with a sweet, fig mustard. The balance of the salty ham and sweet mustard together put me on a cloud and with the added bonus of the freshly baked baguette...I could have sworn I was back in Paris.

John chose the Tuna Nicoise sandwich featuring a tuna-sardine mixture, a boiled egg, butter lettuce and a tomato aioli layered beautifully between two light, almost fluffy slices of brioche. Casey selected the steak sandwich with thickly slices of beef cooked rare covered with a crumbly, blue cheese butter and arugula lettuce on toasted ciabatta bread. I got to taste both sandwiches (lucky girl that I am) and they were both wonderful! My only wish would be that the tuna be seared and sliced as opposed to the crumbled, salad-like mix that was served, though I imagine in a busy shop like Tartine, the latter is a lot simpler to prepare.

All of the plates also featured a small ramekin of salad made from fregula, a small, ball-shaped pasta (if I am guessing correctly) that I thought was colorful and light, a pleasant accompaniment to some incredible sandwiches.

I couldn't leave without sampling some dessert, there was no way I was going to pass up some of her luscious pastry, and I chose a thick, frosted brownie with chopped walnuts. We shared around the appropriately chocolaty and nicely gooey brownie with relish. When talking to my friend Lorin a few hours later, she chided me for not trying "the tartine" assembled with the chef's own house-made pate, onion confit and Dijon mustard on a baguette. Well, you know what they say, there's always next time!