It was windy and a little chilly on the Friday night my friends I arrived in New Orleans, but it felt like the Caribbean compared to being back in Washington, DC, with record-low temperatures and a broken heating unit at home.
For dinner that night, we strolled from our rented apartment in the French Quarter a few blocks across Canal Street to Herbsaint, Donald Link’s fine dining restaurant.
It’s a nice, brightly decorated spot but — and caution here that I don’t have the most sophisticated palette in the world — the meal was only so-so.
For starter I had the housemade spaghetti served with guanciale (pork jowl or cheeks) and a friend egg on top. It didn’t look like much but all those carbohydrates quickly made me feel full. I think the chef must have thrown an entire stick of butter into the mix, because the richness of the dish was highly evident, but also highly delicious.
My main course of grilled chicken with bacon-braised peas and peperonata (a pepper stew) was less exciting, and reminded me more of the rubber chicken dishes I’ve sat through at work conferences. Adequate, but I can’t write any more about the entree because it wasn’t that memorable.
A shame, given the high Yelp rating for Herbsaint and our eagerness to try it. Maybe the kitchen was having an off night, or maybe that’s what I get for not trying some of the restaurant’s more adventurous fare.
No matter, as lunch the next day made up for it.