Entries tagged with 'Cochon'
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One of the few places that was a non-negotiable on my list of New Orleans places to visit?
Cochon Butcher. Chef Donald Link's artisanal butcher shop/sandwich joint/wine bar is next to Cochon, his homage to all things Cajun, porky, and meaty. My favorite sandwich is the
Cochon Muffuletta ($12), a cheffy version of the classic New Orleans sandwich
first made in Central Grocery in the French Quarter.
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While their muffuletta, layered with house-cured meats, is among the very best in New Orleans,
Cochon Butcher's other sandwiches are almost as irresistible. I was particularly fond of the
buckboard bacon melt ($9)—thick-cut lean bacon with smoky stewed collards, a pepper aioli, and Swiss cheese melting into every bite.
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After a whirlwind tour through the cities and fisheries of Southern Louisiana a couple weeks back, it's clear to me that the flow of misinformation and apprehension about the quality of the seafood coming from the Gulf of Mexico has been far more detrimental to the industry that the oil itself. Tasting my way through cities like
Lake Charles, Houma, New Iberia, and New Orleans, it's clear that seafood is the heart and soul of the Cajun and Creole cuisine of the area—indeed, for a solid five days,
I had blue crab in some form or another at every single meal (breakfast, lunch, and dinner) not to mention copious amounts of local shrimp, oysters, fish, and crawfish.
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Ah, New Orleans. It's safe to say that no U.S. city—at the very least, of its size—crams in quite so much deliciousness. From boiled crawfish at seafood shacks to oysters on the half-shell in jacket-required dining rooms, from adventurous chefs to century-old sandwich establishments, eating in New Orleans is an unparalleled delight. And if there's a bit of guilt that accompanies all that butter and roux, it should be assuaged by the knowledge that eating in New Orleans these days is essentially an act of civic service.
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Ever since devouring the Southern Foodways Alliance's excellent oral history of Louisiana's Boudin Trail, I've been champing at the bit to get me some. So when my pal Pableaux Johnson invited me on a culinary tour that included a swing through boudin country, I was on board quicker than you boil a batch of crawfish. This spicy sausage is like so many regional specialties, rarely making appearances outside the area in which it's such a big deal. I don't get that because boudin is one of the most ridiculously delicious sausages around, a mix of pork parts, rice, and assertive seasonings. It's most often found at country stores, though our first taste of incredible boudin was in New Orleans...
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A few weeks ago, I was flying home from a food work-cation in New Orleans and Joan Jett was on my plane. I have to admit it was kind of exciting. I remember seeing Jett open for Aerosmith when I was in junior high—a pretty awesome concert from what I remember—and naturally I bought an Aerosmith shirt and wore it proudly to school the next day. It cost somewhere between $15 and $20 but was a required souvenir, mostly to ensure that everyone at Southwood Middle School knew I had seen Aerosmith and Joan Jett the night before. Walking through the halls, others were sporting the same shirt and we all felt a kinship, sometimes solidified with a nod...
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This week I learned something every astronaut has learned the hard way: Re-entry is a bitch, at least when it comes to breathing-living-eating-dieting. When I last left you, serious eaters, I was consuming quite a few pieces of some of the finest fried chicken in the land. It didn't get any easier after that in New Orleans. Dinner that night was at Cochon, Donald Link's tribute to all things porcine that should be renamed Porktopia. The man loves pork as much as I do. It wouldn't surprise me if the tap water I drank there was infused with pork. We ate fried boudin balls, grilled pork ribs with watermelon salad, cochon (roast pig) of course, and house-made salumi, including...
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As a serious eater with a commute where a MetroCard is no help at all, I was pleased to see restaurant critic Frank Bruni go beyond Gotham with his Coast to Coast series in the New York Times dining section. I was more pleased to see that one of the spots was in New Orleans, which happened to coincide with a previously planned day-job-related trip there. Make no mistake. Unless it's during Jazzfest or Mardi Gras, it's hard to eat badly in New Orleans.* Pound for pound, it's hard to think of a place that has such depth of excellence from haute to street. I lived in New Orleans for a year in the 1990s, return as often as I...
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