July 10, 2008 Issue

When one carries the sobriquet of “Roving Rogue,” one frequently ponders just how far one should rove in search of truth, justice and a damn good Pimm’s Cup.

So I roved to the Big Easy, New Orleans.

I even had a legit reason. The National Society of Newspaper Columnists was holding its annual conference, and I was getting a nice little award. Fortunately I told my dear friend, Joe Skelly, local psycho-therapist (sic) about the trek, and he volunteered to go with me after getting a pass from his wonderful wife Eli. Friends, you ain’t seen New O until you visit it with a third-generation native.

Anyone can do the Quarter, but you’re not going to find the Maple Leaf, Mandina’s, the Rock ‘n Bowl, Spotted Cat or Liuzza’s without some help. And, boy, did we find ‘em!

The Spotted Cat is on Frenchman Street, across from the legendary Snug Harbor. And it’s about the most user-friendly bar in New Orleans. Acoustic old-timey jazz, and you can listen from the sidewalk or join the pack inside.

One of my “must do” spots there is the famed Napoleon House. The red beans and rice are great, but the atmosphere is unlike any restaurant/bar in the Big Easy. Classical music is played, if you use bad words you’re asked to leave, and Paul Gustings, the bartender for 22 years, makes the fabled Pimm’s Cup and Sazerac cocktails like no other.

They’re not open during Mardi Gras. There was a fight there in 1948, so the owner decided to shut down for the Fat Tuesday celebrations. That’s the sort of history you get when you’re in a building that was built in 1797.

There’s a great interview with Paul you can find online, but one of the wonderful anecdotes revolves around a man who came in and asked when the music started. “We play classical music all day,” he was told.

“Oh, I was told that Beethoven played here.”

“He quit.”

The guy left.

Upon request, Paul will make you a whiskey sour the way they’re supposed to be made—with egg whites. Now that’s a real bartender.

Traveling New Orleans with a guy who has the surname “Skelly” requires a stop or two at Irish pubs. We hit The Kerry, Molly’s and Fahy’s. All three were wonderful, and the first was memorable for something that’s usually missing in the bar scene here—really bright conversation. Now I don’t want to sound snobbish, but five minutes after arriving at The Kerry, Joe and I were engaged in a chat with one of the locals about Roman emperors and who was the best.

My choice, Augustus, got trumped when the stranger brought up a guy who ruled around 462 A.D. who I’d never heard of. So he won. (I’ll look it up later.)

A two-hour lunch at Galatoire’s is not to be missed, the Hotel Monteleone is a wonderful place to stay, and if you wish to enjoy a Sunday brunch that you’ll never forget, you must visit Begue’s in the Royal Sonesta hotel.

Be sure you get Eleanor as your server, say hello to new chef Elizabeth Barlow, and arrive as starved as you can. In addition to the grandest buffet I’ve ever fatted on, they’ve added a Master Sushi Chef and a Hickory Smoked Duck station with a sauce that is surely heaven-inspired.

Back home folks are justifiably abuzz about two places opening right about now—Commander’s Palace and Joe and Eddie’s, two establishments that couldn’t be further apart in their approach to cuisine, but two that a lot of people have been waiting for.

The former is at the Emerald Grande, that not-so-dainty edifice at the east end of the Destin Bridge. Its flagship is in the aforementioned Big Easy and is an incredible place in which to dine. Further, we have several “graduates” of the original Commander’s working as chefs here.

Joe and Eddie’s is a legendary Fort Walton Beach restaurant that was torn down to make room for something that doesn’t seem terribly practical to build right now. So the owners have taken over the former Po Folks eatery on Eglin Parkway and should be open soon, if not now.

It will again be home to the legendary Mother Tom’s Omelet, surely the only egg-based concoction named after a cross-dressing guy who lived here. The new hours are more restrictive than in the original joint, perhaps because as K.C.’s owner Mike Parker opined in my previous column, “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.”

Harry T’s is returning to Destin! You’ll find it open soon at the Lighthouse on the mouth of the Destin Harbor. It’ll be managed by one of the best in the business, Dan Empson, owner/manager of Angler’s at the Boardwalk on Okaloosa Island.

I’ve always thought Dan to be a really good and generous person, but he did something yesterday you don’t hear enough of from restaurateurs—he had nothing but effuse praise for a competitor, Fudpucker’s Chester Kroeger.

I’d mentioned to Dan (over his incredibly good ribs) that it was good to see Chester’s picture in the alternative paper as he touted his CPAs. And Dan said, “Chester is the finest man you’ll ever know. He’s an outstanding husband, father and employer. He’s simply a great guy.”

Hey, Destin! Spread some of that love around, will ya?

Papa Joe’s Hideaway is a wonderful beer, wine and wings (and stuff) smoking joint on Perry Avenue in Fort Walton Beach. It’s sorta across from the bus station and sits in a cute little house with a wonderfully manicured front yard. Their wings are excellent, but nothing tops the homemade bleu cheese dressing made by Pat Dougherty, owner and former manager of Barley’s. It flat rocks. (Oh, so does the bleu cheese dressing at Anglers! There are actually large chunks of cheese in it.)

Pat now has live entertainment on Friday nights, with Lionel Crockett alternating weeks with Pate Henderson. Both have great personalities and voices, and are great at getting the patrons into the game. They kick off around 8 p.m.

We close with this from Laugh-In’s Dick Martin: “I belong to Bridegrooms Anonymous. Whenever I feel like getting married, they send over a lady in a housecoat with curlers in her hair to burn my toast.”

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