A Slice of Mid-City: Part I- A Snapshot

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In addition to my discussions of how the wide range of pizza available in Mid-City reflects some of the growing cultural and ideological tensions in New Orleans, I offer up here a quick look into the demographic changes the neighborhood has undergone since Hurricane Katrina.

Mid-City is a rapidly changing neighborhood and while the last ten years have seen a lot of change, demographics are slow to change.  The charts below may offer readers a more in-depth look into some of the neighborhood demographic information.  All data was taken from The Data Center.

Mid-City experienced substantial population loss due to hurricane Katrina, with some parts of the neighborhood experience peak flood depths of up to 8 feet.  Although the distribution of ages and races represented in the neighborhood remained relatively consistent before the storm and after, the neighborhood has yet to recoup it’s pre-Katrina population numbers. This may soon change, according to Preservation Resource Center of New Orleans, Mid-City is one of the fastest-rebuilding neighborhoods since the storm.

Age 2000Age 2010

Race 2000 Race 2010

We can see from these Pizza-pie charts that the Hispanic population is the fastest growing in Mid-City.  This can be seen in the large number of hispanic owned and operated food businesses on Carrolton.  Since August of 2013, Mid-City has seen an influx of national chain restaurants on S. Carrolton.  In addition to these chain business the neighborhood boast an attractive location for locally owned businesses as well. This rapid growth of food oriented businesses to the neighborhood stands as proof to the testament that Mid-City plays a major role in supporting New Orleans’ food culture!

 

posted by Arianna King

Mid-City Cluster of Awesomeness!

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Hello again. As promised in my last blog, this entry will mainly focus on the interviews that were conducted by Stephanie and myself. We went into each interview hoping to gain some insight on why this cluster of restaurants is here and how the Greenway Project and the new plaza development will affect them. The following is a map that shows the changes that these new developments plan on bringing to the area.

Stephanie and I started off our interviews at Juicy Lucy’s. As we entered the restaurant we were greeted by Denise Thomas, the manager of Juicy Lucy’s. We asked her if Mr. Mike Juan was available for a quick interview. Denise informed us that Mr. Mike has been spending a lot of time at their soon-to-be new location in Metairie on Houma Blvd. She agreed to sit with us and answer any questions that we had, despite the fact that she was waiting on tables as well. Denise has been working at Juicy Lucy’s for 9 months, but has been in the restaurant business for the majority of her life. She’s managed Mr. B’s Bistro in the French Quarter and Houston’s on St. Charles. She has also written employee manuals for Neows.

We asked Denise about the history of the building. She says that she has lived in the neighborhood for 16 years and she’s seen at least 13 other businesses housed in this particular building. Some of these businesses consisted of other restaurants, coffee shops, and even a small grocery store, Denise tells us.

“If there is one thing that you can tell someone about the history of this place, what would it be?” I ask her. Her eyes lit up and she says, “Ooh, I can give it to you”, as she walks away. A few moments later, she returns with this:

We asked her if she was worried about the competition that the Greenway Project and the plaza development may bring and she responded with, “Pfft! NO! We make over 900 burgers a week and are opening a new location so we must be doing something right.” She tells us that mid-city people don’t want chain food so she isn’t too concerned with Five Guys.

After the interview with Denise, Stephanie and I decided to walk over to Redemption. The hostess informed us that Mr. & Mrs. Delaune were out for the evening. When we explained to her what we were doing, she was quick to introduce us to Joey Lacaze. Joey has been a waiter at Redemption for 3 months, but has been living in Mid-City all of his life.

When we asked Joey how he felt about the Greenway Project and the plaza development, he looked confused. He had no idea what we were talking about. After explaining to him what the plans for the area were, he seemed excited. “Yes! A Pinkberry will be in town”, he says.

On a separate day, an interview was conducted with Chef Greg Picolo. When he was asked about his feelings on the Greenway Project and the plaza development, he shows little concern about competition. He says that the Mid-City restaurants are like one big community and he isn’t worried about competing with someone else. He says that if another restaurant is making something similar to what Redemption sells, he will just have to improve the way he makes the product to keep the customers coming back. He describes the food at Redemption as “upscale, ya’ mom ‘n dems”.

Follow Up With Frank Barrera

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Friday – March 16, 2012 – Interview with Frank Barrera

In theory, our research project on the Restaurant Row should be easy for us budding food anthropologists – particularly those of us who are locals. After all, a common phrase heard in New Orleans is “we don’t eat to live, we live to eat”.

The “natives” among us should know all there is to know about navigating our way in and out of the social spaces we find ourselves dining in as part of our research. Theory is one thing but practice is another.

Front door to the bar at El Rinconcito

I called Frank Barrera, owner of El Rinconcito, a few times over the last couple of months but he was always busy- he just did not have the time to give an interview to a nosy young man (or anthropologist… this quality often goes hand in hand). Truth be told, it was harder than I expected for me to explain why I wanted to interview him about El Rinconcito. While there are specific things the Restaurant Row Recovery Project  hopes to find, I realized that making our research goals clear was easier said than done.

I’m a college student and he’s a restaurant owner; the community dynamics that either one of us sees in some ways are very different from one another. While we may call the Canal/Carrollton area the Restaurant Row, the restaurant owners probably don’t; we bring our perspectives of the area to the area that we’re studying. Our different worldviews and experiences sometimes lead us to be “lost in translation” even though we’re speaking the same language to one another. All was not lost, I promise.

Entrance to the Dining Area of El Rinconcito

I did finally get to interview Frank Barrera to ask him more about El Rinconcito and the Restaurant Row. If anything, after talking to Frank, I realized how much he goes out of his way for his workers, clients, and those interested in his restaurant in one way or another. While he doesn’t have a website yet, he told me that anyone can reach him by e-mail if someone has any questions about the restaurant or menu.

The bar at El Rinconcito

I arrived about an hour earlier than we had scheduled to meet and talk. This time I went to the bar. It’s interesting how much different the bar experience is from the dining one. On the bar, I saw painted LSU, Tulane, fleur-de-lis(es?), and Saints helmets. There were two TVs: one at the bar and one close to the windows overlooking N. Carrollton. One was giving highlights of the soccer world while the over was playing music videos of Mexican pop stars. The clientele was a mix of both working-class Latinos and Americans.

I was dressed up more than usual and, in some ways, this made me stand out more- a dressed up young man with a laptop drinking water at the bar. I was clearly a little out of place. I thought this would allow me to be taken more seriously and it may have. I’ll ask Frank next time. Just let me believe my fashion sense that day paid off.

When Frank arrived, I could tell he was busy. He had brought some supplies with him and he started to talk to the bartenders and cooks. I waited awhile before I approached him but once I saw he was ready, I let him know I was the nosy anthropologist who had been calling him for the last couple of months.

While I’m the type who likes to dabble in the small details of stories or discuss the particularities of things, Frank likes to get straight to the point. He told me from the get-go that he could only do the interview for a short while cause he was busy, but he was very courteous and took me seriously. Although I could go into a lot more detail about the particularities of how and why El Rinconcito came to be a part of the Restaurant Row, I’ll try and brief the bloggers.

Dining Area of El Rinconcito

Frank is an incredibly interesting as well as hardworking person. He was born and raised in Colombia and learned how to cook at home with his mother. He moved to the US in 1962 and has lived in many different parts of the US including Texas, New Jersey, Florida, and Louisiana. He has held a large variety of jobs during that time. While crossing the country during his stint as a truck driver, he passed through New Orleans a few times. He loved the parades and how “small” New Orleans was in the 1970’s so much he decided to move here.

He has owned and operated a variety of different businesses while living in New Orleans. In 1995, he leased and operated what was once the Home Plate Inn on Tulane Ave. He changed the name to La Finca Home Plate Inn that was a restaurant for some time. He still uses this name for his limited liability corporation (LLC) that includes El Rinconcito and La Finca Home Plate Inn (which is now a weekend night club). He also stills drives taxis around town.

When I talked to him more specifically about El Rinconcito, I asked him a variety of questions about its history and the surrounding community. Before El Rinconcito, the building used to serve as an antique store and restaurant that served Chinese food. He doesn’t remember its name.

The main reason Frank chose to open El Rinconcito in 2006 on N. Carrollton was because it was a busy street that was lacking a restaurant that served Latin American food. In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, he said that he had the only restaurant open in the area and served hundreds of people everyday. In addition to that, he loves parades and he felt this wouldn’t hurt his business either since some of them run right through N. Carrollton during Mardi Gras.

Frank has lived in Metairie most of his life since 1976 when he first moved to New Orleans. When I asked him more about his clientele, he told me that he does have quite a number of regulars that come to the restaurant or bar. He said the majority of his customers are people from all over Latin America. Despite this fact, he made it very clear to me that he tries to appeal to everyone.

One of the more interesting things about El Rinconcito is that it claims to be an “American” and “Spanish” restaurant. Interestingly enough, Frank and I were both in agreement that the food at El Rinconcito is clearly much more Latin American. Frank explains it this way, “Come and ask for any food and we will make it for our customers. That’s the main reason I advertise food this way”.

He backed it up by telling me a few stories. He told me of instances where he cooked pork chops or even hamburgers for his customers who weren’t interested in what’s on the menu. Other times, he said that his customers might have a different take on what should be in an enchilada or burrito. He tries to make them the way his customers would like.

What Frank likes about running El Rinconcito on the Restaurant Row is simple. He has good customers and no one really gives him any trouble. He has a cordial relationship with the other restaurants in the area but is not incredibly close to them. He says his main goal is to serve his customers right.

When I asked Frank about his feelings on the construction of the Mid-City Market and the Lafitte Corridor, he remains positive for the future of the area. He feels that it is better to have new businesses come into the area to get rid of the blight and to attract new customers. To Frank, these new developments pose only new opportunities for El Rinconcito, not obstacles.

Before starting the interview, I showed Frank the first blog. Overall, he appreciated it but he did mention one flaw in what I had written. Once again, the word “rumbo” came up. He mentioned to me that my translation of El Rinconcito motto is a little off. He told me that rumbo, in this context, is really more along the lines of giving to others. A better translation of the experience to be found at El Rinconcito might be this: “No somos los mejores pero sí los mejores del rumbo.” – “We’re not the best but we give the best service.”

PS- More on Kjeans later!

Establishing Rapport at El Rinconcito

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My partner Rachael Horn and I, Mark Paternostro, will be conducting research on three restaurants in the Mid City neighborhood of New Orleans. All three of our restaurants are located on N. Carrollton Ave. between Bienville Ave. and Toulouse St. (refer to the map on the left or here for a larger view).

We chose to carry out research and conduct interviews with three (extra credit, Dr. Beriss?) very different restaurants that happen to be either next to or across the street from one another: a restaurant cluster within a restaurant row, if you will. They are El Rinconcito (218 N. Carrollton), WOW Café and Wingery (231 N. Carrolton #C) and KJeans (236 North Carrollton).

One of the goals of the Restaurant Row Recovery Project (RRRP) is to understand why there are so many restaurants clustered together in this one area. In class, we also noted that, within the Restaurant Row, all of these restaurants collectively seem to be serving a continuum of cuisines that would make the United Nations proud.

On the Row, one can dine at New Orleans’ institutions like Mandina’s, Venezia’s, and Angelo Brocato’s or mix it up at fusion restaurants like Café Minh or Canal St. Bistro or try out some of the newcomers like Yummy Yummy and El Rinconcito (neither of these have websites, sorry bloggers!).

We hope to find through our research if the sheer volume and variety of restaurants on the Row are representative of those who live in the surrounding neighborhood and/or of any demographic changes in the city as a whole.

By researching the history of the area and conducting interviews with the owners of these restaurants, we hope to find out what role they play to the surrounding community and New Orleans as a whole. We also hope to find out in what direction this already dynamic neighborhood is headed with regards to the near-future construction of both the Mid-City Market and the Lafitte Corridor.

February 15, 2012 – Establishing Rapport at El Rinconcito

Rachael and I, Mark, had made plans a couple of days prior to have lunch at El Rinconcito. I arrived first and, in some ways, this was probably for the better because our server, Rosalba, did not speak English and I was able to use my intermediate Spanish to order my food and later ask a few questions.

At first, I just took in the atmosphere of the place itself. There is a sign that lets customers know that to get into the restaurant area it is easier for one to enter in on the side of the building and that’s just what I did. When I entered, a group of Latino men were playing pool to the right of me and there was a very large dining area that was on the left. One of the men that was sitting down handed me a menu and I decided to seat myself.

A few moments later, Rosalba came to ask me what I would like to drink. I asked for horchata but it was not ready so I took a Coke instead. She gave me time to look over the menu and it was during that time I took in some of the material culture found around the restaurant. There were sombreros hanging from a large pillar in the dining area, an outstretched flag that said “Colombia” above the bathrooms, and a few Mardi Gras decorations to be found hanging from the walls and fans. The menu was also a mixture of different types of Latin American foods. The whole menu was in Spanish and I saw everything from huevos rancheros to enchiladas to quesadillas to carne asada and then some.

I decided to go with the Carne Asada (literally translated as “grilled steak”) which also included corn tortillas, lettuce, tomato, queso blanco (I don’t want to call it cheese because that word conjures up a particular image to most Americans. It is literally translated as “white cheese” but its texture and taste are much different than say Cheddar or American. I think it is made from goat milk.), beans, and rice (I list them separately because they were separate from one another unlike the local variety of “red beans and rice”. They also had a much different texture and taste than that New Orleans’ favorite.)

Throughout the meal I had asked a couple of questions of Rosalba. I mentioned to her that I’m a student who is interested in El Rinconcito and the surrounding restaurants and neighborhood. She told me she was new to the restaurant and was from Honduras. She also told me that many of the clients were from many different Latin American countries. I wanted to know if there was someone I could talk to about the history of El Rinconcito in English. She said yes and, later, this became helpful.

As I was thoroughly enjoying a meal that was larger than I had imagined, Rachael and her boyfriend came in to join me on the dining experience. One of the men opened the door for them and they came and sat down next to me. I had told Rosalba that I had two friends on their way earlier and soon enough she came by to get their orders.

Rachael mentioned to me that she liked the relaxed almost homely atmosphere of the place. I wholeheartedly agreed with her. There is something about the light pastel colored walls in each of the dining rooms, our friendly server, the Spanish music coming from the bar, and the group of Latino men playing pool and drinking that seemed to separate us from the busy traffic found right outside the front of the building. After Rachael’s observation, I began to appreciate the fact that the dining area was located in the back and lent itself to this homely environment.

While Rachael and Mac were working on their meals, another lady approached us. She began to ask us in English if we had any questions about the meal or service. I told her that we were students who were researching the restaurants in this area including El Rinconcito. She was very kind and helpful. She told us she would give us the boss’s number and that he would most likely be happy to give us an interview.

After we had finished our meals, Rosalba came back and handed us an El Rinconcito keychain. The keychain has two numbers: one to reach the owner and another for the restaurant. It also says this about El Rinconcito: “No somos los mejores del mundo pero si los mejores del rumbo”.

Before we paid, I had to ask Rosalba one more question. I had no idea what the word “rumbo” meant so I asked Rosalba. She mentioned it’s a Latin American word that is hard to translate to English. I asked her if it meant like the aesthetics of the place or a certain feeling of a place and she said she yes.

Later, we decided to look up the word for ourselves. “Rumbo” actually has many different meanings, but I think the best loose translation would be this: “We’re not the best in the world, but we are the life of the party.”

More to come on WOW Cafe and Wingery and Kjeans… until next time!

Blogosphere Realizations of a Noobie Blogger

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As some of you already know, an on-site (and online) exhibit at the Southern Food and Beverage Museum is going to accompany our Restaurant Row Recovery Project. We are working on the possibility of publications in scholarly journals as well. All of this seemed relatively standard for this type of project, but as to how blogging fit into this, I was clueless.

Rising Tide NOLA 5 New Media Conference Poster. Graphic Art by Greg Peters of Suspect Device (click the photo for a link to more of Greg's work)

On August 28th I discovered that we had at our disposal an entirely new media format for our project to tap into: blogging. I know this sounds odd since we have been blogging about our project for weeks now, but I never really understood the potential of such an avenue until I attended the 5th annual Rising Tide NOLA New Media Conference. Until that rainy Saturday I thought of our blog as simply a method of providing some chronological feedback on our progress, and as a possible source of topics for further exploration.

Prior to this project I was not a blogger. Until this conference I never truly understood the power, and access, blogging could provide. The new media conference (subtitled A Conference on the Future of New Orleans) changed that.

What I am somewhat familiar with is the jambalaya of emotions that go along with doing field work in New Orleans. Self doubt gets sautéed with shyness and preemptive humiliation to create the perfect discomfort food, and I had a feast before me. What did come as a surprise were the jitters I had about making our project public. The bloggers I met at the conference seemed immune to such thing. In fact, they actively strive to be public.

At this point in my life all of the conclusions and analysis of my previous work remained in a closed academic system, thus lessening potential shortfall fears. The final outcome resulted in grades in a grade book, some brief experiences and encounters with the public, and a new semester of classes. In other words, no harm, no foul. But this project is different; this project is not just for a grade. This project is for adding to the knowledge base of Anthropology, for shedding more light on the role restaurants play in New Orleans culture, and for contributing to the understanding of a New Orleans post Katrina neighborhood recovery. All of this sounds fantastic on paper (and in theory), but how can it become practical? How do we add our findings to the elusive knowledge base? How does our research, and academic fantasizing, make the way from bits of collected data to printed literature and disciplinary journals to public knowledge and discourse?

The bloggers and conference attendees– active and aware citizens – are providing us an alternative answer: new media. Part of the same media some the restaurants on our Row use to tell their own stories (a topic covered on this blog by David Beriss). Key note speaker Mac McClelland of MotherJones.com and author of For Us, Surrender Is Out Of The Question: A Story From Burma’s Never-Ending War, went so far as to say that the rise of “citizen journalist” was evidence that new media was a forerunner to pushing for cultural change and cultural awareness. I came away from this event in agreement.

Keynote spearker Mac McClelland. Photo by Bart "Editor B" Everson of b. rox (click the photo for a link to more of Editor B's work)

McClelland also spoke against the recent government, and BP, reports on the amount of oil still present in the Gulf. She argued the oil is not gone and that the seafood and restaurant industry are going to be reeling from this for a long time, a sentiment echoed by two of the restaurant owners I have interviewed. McClelland praised the blogging community of New Orleans for its dedication and passion for the city. The New Orleans blogosphere (and now us, the RRR team, to a lesser extent) are creating transparency and focus to a city in recovery.

Taking this one step further it is now apparent to me that new media can be tremendously useful for future academic recovery projects like this one. Gone are the days of the lonely anthropologist heading off to some far away exotic locale with a notebook and pencil. Technological advances like new media allow us to not only document our ongoing work, but also to achieve a level of transparency previously unattainable. Analysis and conclusions can be viewed as a process instead of an event. Consultation can come from a variety of far away sources, and perhaps most importantly, our study subjects can be involved like never before.

New media is a powerful tool. I am honored to have been invited to the conference, and am inspired to further utilize this avenue for my future anthropological and social justice work. I would like to say thank you to all those who continue to provide the community with an alternative voice.

Exploring Their Connections

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One of the objectives of our Restaurant Row Recovery Project is to try to better understand how restaurants have played a role, if any, in the relationships with, and within, the neighborhood and the Greater New Orleans area.

Obviously, as businesses, they compete to provide a service in exchange for an established price. From the other side, the consumer provides the restaurant owner and his employees a means of financial support. Bottom line is that these are businesses, and profitability is fundamental to their survival. But these local establishments seem almost as dependent upon their relationships as their bottom line. After interviewing some of the owners, employees, and customers of the Row it quickly became apparent that there was much more to this story.

For starters, most of the restaurant owners interviewed by my colleagues and I have described a type of local connection fundamental to their supply chain. Some, like the owner of EcoCafe, actively engage in more grass roots community networking, by striving to buy from local farmer’s markets as much as is absolutely possible. Others like, Paul Ballard, founder and CEO of WOW Café and Wingery, as well as PJ’s Coffee, are supplied by larger firms, but are nonetheless local. Frank, owner of Rinconcito, went so far as to express a sense of loss when he mentioned decreasing his seafood order from local supplier Vincent Piazza, Jr. & Sons Seafood Incorporated due to the BP oil spew plunging the demand for seafood. These all serve as examples of restaurants playing the role of consumer and local patron, but also express how each strives to maintain a connection to place.

Afternoon Delivery

The bartender and daughter of Delmy Cruz, owner of Fiesta Latina, echoed what Paul had said about being there not just to make money, but to serve a community in need. This got me thinking about what we, as consumers, need to have in a restaurant relationship. What is it we expect to get out of a restaurant beyond a quality meal? How are those expectations met? I know I enjoy going to the places where I know the staff. Making a connection to the people who work in my favorite haunts is fundamental to it actually becoming one of my favorites.

Paul talked about his amazement with the response to first opening after the storm. He said he had never heard so many heartfelt thank you’s in his life. He recalls seeing people piling their MREs (Meals-Ready-to-Eat distributed by the military in the wake of Katrina) on the table while they ordered their first familiar meal in weeks. Paul says he will always remember how happy people were to be in one place eating wings of all things. To them, the folks at WOW were heroes. They brought back something familiar. They brought back a little bit of normality and Americana: beer, wings, and college football.

Above all, these examples go to show how restaurants can often play a much larger role in the neighborhood beyond providing substance to an already nourished population base.  They can serve as counselors, organizers, entertainers, neighbors, and sometimes friends.  Of course, for our study group it doesn’t hurt to have a tasty baseline from which one can operate.

Telling Their Own Story

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I will start with the obvious: chefs and restaurants are trendy.  Above all, chefs in fancy white tablecloth restaurants have become important players in the making of the symbolic economy (that is the one in which you buy things—a sports car, a zucchini, a house, shoes—because it means something to you, not just because you need it).  Eating in their restaurants, reading and watching their interviews and TV shows and buying their cookbooks and other products are all part of the process by which we consumers make ourselves into the kind of people we think we want to be.  Through all of the media they create, these restaurateurs tell their own stories and make themselves into who we think they are…and help give meaning to our own dining and cooking experiences.

The process through which some of the more savvy chefs define themselves is fascinating to watch.  One of the difficulties faced by social scientists who want to study restaurateurs is precisely that they are great at telling their own stories.  They are good at connecting with the desires and ideas that permeate our societies.  The stories of chefs’ lives, of the highs and lows of kitchen life, of the creative process in the restaurant, of difficult customers or unusual settings to prepare a meal all help create a kind of template that the rest of us can use to frame our lives, culinary or otherwise.

There are no famous chefs or media stars in our Mid-City restaurant cluster.  But there are stories to tell, as we have already documented here.  Perhaps more importantly, the restaurateurs are, in many cases, already telling their own stories.  They use web pages and social media, along with more traditional media, to create this narrative.  Restaurants like Mandina’s and Brocato‘s have quite elaborate web sites, outlining their histories, including pre and post Katrina events, details about rebuilding and links to outside writing or video about them.  Of course, they also include menus, addresses and hours as well as contact information.  Not all the neighborhood restaurants have web sites (we list those that do on the right side of the blog) and not all of them have extensive information.  Some of the restaurants also have Facebook pages and some may also use other social media as well.  I am linked to several of them in this way and mostly get regular—and mouthwatering—reports of daily specials.

Still, the media are there and the restaurants are beginning to employ them to do more than simply announce specials.  They are using them to tell their stories and thus shape the way we think about them.  This is rapidly becoming an important part of how we can think about forces shaping the neighborhood and city.  The manner in which the restaurant owners represent themselves through their web sites and social media shapes our knowledge about them and will eventually help contour our understanding of the neighborhood beyond their doors.  All of this raises a lot of questions: why do some restaurants pursue this while others do not?  (In our study, restaurants catering to recent immigrant populations seem less likely to have extensive web sites, for example.)  Who reads the sites and what do they take away from that?  As restaurants reach out in this way, are they fundamentally changing the dining experience?

The fact that the people we are studying are telling their own stories through these public representations raises another set of issues as well.  What kinds of insights do anthropologists (or other social scientists) have that might be different from or complementary to information presented by the restaurants themselves?  If we are going to make our work useful, we have to be able to put the restaurant stories into a broader context.  We have to show how the restaurants in our cluster fit into and shape the contours of the city’s broader culture and history.  As the summer winds down and we start to look closely at our data, we will be concentrating on this.  The restaurateurs continue to tell us their stories, both directly and through their public representations.  Our job is to put this together and see if something emerges that gives us new ideas about restaurant clusters, neighborhoods, Mid-City and New Orleans.  Stay tuned!

“This is NOT a Cannoli” (But What Is?)

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The very first day I went in to Brocato’s I was overwhelmed by the sheer variety of confectionary delights.  Some things were familiar to me as things that are distinctly Italian even though I myself may not have had them before.  There were jars of candy coated Almonds, a variety of biscotti to choose from, spumoni, and rum cake. Then there were the cannoli.  Or at least I thought they were cannoli.  However, they were listed as cannocini with a small sign below, distinctly stating: “This is NOT a cannoli.”  I was intrigued, because knowing what they were not did not help me in figuring out precisely what they were.  They appeared to be Italian cream filled cylinders, and I was failing to distinguish the difference.

My confusion regarding Brocato’s wares involved their frozen treats as well.  During our interview, Arthur Brocato repeatedly referred to his frozen concoctions as “Italian ice creams”.  I had considered them to be gelatos and ices.  When I looked to their website for clarification, I noticed the following: “For the true connoisseur, Brocato’s offers a complete selection of “gelato” (Italian for ice cream) featuring all natural imported Sicilian flavorings from chestnut to moka to amaretto.”

So, according to Brocato’s, “gelato” is Italian for “ice cream”.  Not being convinced that there wasn’t a bigger difference, I scoured the internet, and after looking through numerous Chowhound posts, Wikipedia postings, About.com answers and endless other streams of running commentary on the subject, I gathered that the general consensus is that gelato actually contains milk and cream as opposed to just cream and that the fact that is seems to be superbly creamy in comparison to its ice cream counterpart has more to do with the fact that it is mixed slowly enough that air doesn’t whip in, allowing for a much denser creamy texture.  As for the cannocini: when I finally gathered the determination to display my ignorance of Italian desserts and ask for the difference, I was told that they are filled with sweetened custard filling rather than sweetened ricotta as the cannoli are.

I bring up the cannoli and gelato examples not because I wish to nitpick Brocato’s selections and word choices but because I think they serve as excellent examples when it comes to the endless debate on authenticity. If Brocato’s chooses not to call its Italian Ice Cream “gelato”, does it make it any less authentic? Furthermore, if one is to consider the new twists to old tradition, such as spumoni cheesecake, then where does authenticity come in to question? Are we to assume that if it isn’t traditional it isn’t authentic?  If that’s the case, then nothing new or innovative would ever fit the definition, we’d be stuck in time forever, slaves to authenticity.

Several people have asked me how I feel about Juan’s Flying Burrito (another of my research subjects on the row) when compared with El Rinconcito or Fiesta Latina.  In other words, is Juan’s “authentic” Mexican food?  I would say that it all depends on the definition of authenticity.  I come from a place where a burrito is food to be held, lunch packed to go.  At Juan’s the burritos barely fit on the plate and they are often drenched in sauces.  Grasping one would be highly inadvisable. Does it make them something other than a burrito? Not if Juan’s says that’s what they are.

Restaurant Criticism

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I wrote recently that I would not engage in any restaurant criticism here.  And I won’t.  But an essential part of our research is figuring out where the restaurants—past and present—of our restaurant row fit within the complex New Orleans culinary universe.  To that end, I have spent many hours lately digging around in old newspapers, magazines, guidebooks, newsletters, etc. to see how the restaurants have been evaluated over time.

Since the late 1960s, restaurant critics have played an important role in shaping discussions about restaurants and dining in New Orleans.  For this project, I am looking mostly at material about our neighborhood, written and published locally.  This is simply a way of making a very large amount of material more manageable.  For another project, I am also looking into restaurant writing about New Orleans more generally, including some of the early efforts to legitimize the genre and the way it has changed over time, as the idea of culture, useful criticism, careers and other factors have come into focus.

1973 Edition of The New Orleans Underground Gourmet

Many people in New Orleans would agree that Richard Collin, author of the “New Orleans Underground Gourmet” (1970, Simon and Schuster), was the city’s first real restaurant critic.  He was also a history professor at UNO, where his work in food writing was not terribly well respected, both because it was not really academic work and because it probably did not seem like appropriate behavior for a scholar.  UNO would look on such things differently today.  That said, there is a relatively clear relationship between art, film and literary criticism and scholarship in related fields, so that it does not seem unusual for professors to write analytic as well as critical pieces for both scholarly and popular publications.  The ties between academe and restaurant criticism are less obvious, at least from a disciplinary standpoint.  Especially for a historian such as Collin.

Collin stirred up quite a bit of controversy with his writing, in the various editions of “The New Orleans Underground Gourmet,” in his columns for New Orleans States-Item, and in a few other guidebooks about the city.  His reviews were subject to protest at a meeting of New Orleans restaurateurs in 1975, with accusations that he lacked objectivity and, worse, that his wife, Rima Collin (also a UNO professor), had a professional interest in seeing some restaurants better rated than others.  These kinds of accusations and debates go with the territory, as Frank Bruni, former New York Times restaurant critic, notes in his recent book “Born Round: The Secret History of a Full-Time Eater” (2009, Penguin). But the tone of the original confrontation with Collin seems to suggest that in the early 1970s, restaurateurs had not yet figured out how to make sense—and use—of restaurant writing.

However, it is also true that Collin, along with other critics in the early years of restaurant writing, did not hesitate to dole out cruel commentary on restaurants.  Although such commentary still exists, many restaurant writers in New Orleans tend these days to only write about restaurants they can say nice things about, ignoring the rest.  The reasons behind this are not entirely clear.  Perhaps they feel they can leave the harsh comments to blog writers, on-line discussion boards like Urban Spoon, Yelp, Chowhound, etc.  Collin, however, left us with some very amusing evaluations of restaurants in our neighborhood.  Some include restaurants that have since become veritable institutions in New Orleans, which suggests that despite restaurateurs fear, it is possible to survive and even thrive despite the critical barbs tossed out by food writers.  Here are a few pithy comments about defunct restaurants in our neighborhood:

On Hazel’s Po-Boy, 208 N. Carrollton (where Taqueria Guerrero Mexico is today): “Hazel’s serves cheap poor boys that lack distinction, as well as luncheon specials on paper plates.” (“The New Orleans Underground Gourmet,” 1973, p. 132.)

On Mid City Kitchen, 303 N. Carrollton (near the corner of Bienville and N. Carrollton, on the site of a defunct strip mall, unreconstructed since Katrina): “On some days this is one of the great places in town. On most days it isn’t.  Inconsistency mars the record of a brilliant Cajun burger, well seasoned hamburger poor boys, and excellent roast beef poor boys.  On the bad days you wouldn’t recognize them.” (“The New Orleans Restaurant Guide,” 1976, with Rima Collin, p. 165.)

All, of course, is not negative.  Collin waxed poetic about many restaurants.  In 1976, he wrote about Mandina’s “This is what good old New Orleans neighborhood restaurants once looked like.  Mandina’s still does.  A joy to look at and a joy to eat in.” (“The New Orleans Restaurant Guide,” 1976, with Rima Collin, p. 108).

Some evaluations change over time.  But one that stays remarkably consistent is Brocato’s, which Collin and every other critic I have come across has proclaimed magical.  He writes that the cannoli “may well be the cheapest miracle in the world.” (“The New Orleans Restaurant Guide,” 1976, with Rima Collin, p. 72.)  And despite my promise not to engage in any criticism myself, I will admit that I believe that this is still true, 34 years later.

Much can be learned from looking at the way restaurant writing has shaped our restaurants and our way of thinking about restaurants.  Please let us know of any memories you have about restaurant writing, encounters with critics or ideas about how it should be done.  Who are you favorite (and least favorite) critics?  Tell us about them.


The Great Divide

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N. Carrollton and Bienville

Every restaurant in New Orleans closed during Katrina and the subsequent floods.  As the flood waters receded, restaurants cleaned up and re-opened, each one a sign that life was returning to the city.  In fact, the return of food-related businesses (including grocery and convenience stores, gas stations, drug stores, as well as restaurants) became a kind of index that could be used to measure the city’s progress toward recovery.

But what exactly did that measure?  The question of what constituted a sign of recovery became the object of a brief, but telling controversy.  In August 2006, a year after the floods, the Louisiana Restaurant Association published a survey indicating that only 46% of the businesses in the area had been certified for reopening by state health officials.  Only 34% of food businesses in New Orleans proper were certified at that point.  This suggested that progress toward recovery was very slow.

One of the more prominent local restaurant critics, radio personality Tom Fitzmorris, wrote an open letter disputing the LRA’s numbers.  Fitzmorris argued that a meaningful measure of recovery would focus only on the restaurants that “mattered,” in determining the health of the local economy and culinary culture.  High-end restaurants in the French Quarter, he asserted, were “real” because they shaped the image of the city for both locals and tourists, while the neighborhood Chevron, selling doughnuts and hot dogs, or even Starbuck’s, did not.  The core criterion, he wrote, is that a restaurant be of “real interest to people who like to eat.”  Fitzmorris had been tracking the re-opening of the restaurants he thought mattered and, at that point in late 2006, by his measure, over 80% of the city’s restaurants had reopened.  That suggested a more vigorous recovery was underway.

It seems that Fitzmorris won that argument.  At least in New Orleans, it is unlikely that anyone would dispute that the restaurant scene is quite lively.  He continues to measure the number of restaurants open and, interestingly, he claims as of July 23, 2010 that there are 1,106 restaurants (that matter) open in the area, which is a few hundred more than were open before the 2005 disaster.  This is quite remarkable, given that a recent study, published in Nation’s Restaurant News, points out that there are actually fewer restaurants nationally now than a year ago.  We can probably assume that the NRN counts restaurants that Fitzmorris would not include, so the divide between New Orleans, with its interestingly vigorous dining scene, and the rest of the country, is probably even greater than the mere numbers show.

In fact, the national numbers suggest that independent restaurants are declining the most, while chains are doing somewhat better.  In New Orleans, it would seem—and I do not have numbers to back this up, just a sense from reading local critics and wandering around town—that the opposite is true.  We seem to have fewer chains and more local independents.  This leads me to the Great Divide in our Mid-City research area that inspired this set of observations.  There are a few dozen restaurants in the vicinity.  Most of them are independently owned and local establishments, although a couple (Juan’s, Theo’s, Fiesta Latina) are the second or third restaurant in a locally-owned group.  However, there are also a few representatives of national chains in the area, mostly at the northern edge of our study area.  These include a Subway, a Papa John’s, a Wow Café, a Domino’s Pizza and a Quiznos.  (Just for the record, Fitzmorris includes the locals with multiple shops, including those I note in this paragraph, but he does not count any of the national fast food chains mentioned here.)

On N. Carrollton

We are trying to include them in our research.  After all, they do serve food and they are quite visible.  It is unclear at this point how much we can learn.  The restaurant owners of the local establishments have been almost universally eager to join in the project.  Of course, they want to be in our planned museum exhibit and they no doubt want the publicity, but I think that they are also clearly engaged as members of the neighborhood and of the city.  This is where they live, after all.  We have had a very hard time making contact with the fast food owners and franchisees.  First, we have to track them down.  When we speak to the local shop managers, we are often (quite brusquely) informed that they cannot speak with us and that we will have to contact corporate headquarters.  Following up usually results in a parade of voice-mail menus, emails that never receive replies and, generally speaking…a vast void.  There are, of course, public records and a great deal of data we can incorporate.  We have photographic evidence they exist, as you can clearly see.  We do not know yet whether or not these establishments want to be seen as part of the community.  We have not (yet) included them in the web site list on the right of this page, precisely because they do not have local sites that we can find, only national ones.

The divide between the local and the national chain seems, in this case, to be rather sharp.  Yet these shops clearly employ local residents and serve local customers.  They are right there, in the community.  We are not ready to count them out.  In fact, we are still determined to include them in our research.  Any advice on how to do that would be welcome!