Saturday, March 24, 2018

Part Deux....

I want to say Nothing, I really do. And maybe it is true, but I will not say it absolutely for fear of misleading you, but almost Nothing gets me more excited than eating good food.

I really get worked up about it.  I dream about it.  I tell all my friends and family about it. It is glorious and it makes me happy, except for my bulging waistline. So when I have bad food I really go to a dark place.  All this pent up excitement for the upcoming dining experience falls quicker than a souffle.  You don't want to be around me after a bad meal, the day, the night is ruined.  I sit and stare at the television in a comatose state.  I am not nice to be around (ask my wife and kids).

So with that out of the way, let me introduce to you the step brother of Brennan's Houston, Brennan's New Orleans.

My wife had been there before with her family when she was young.  She went  there for brunch and had their famous eggs hollandaise.  She had great memories of the place and remembered the food being great.

After my experience with my son in Houston, I was super pumped to try the original Brennan's in New Orleans.

We stayed in the French Quarter.  It is a place we love, but my son hates.  While we wandered to Cafe du Monde for some pre-dinner beignets he stayed in the hotel.  New Orleans is a great place to people watch, so walking around is fun, especially when eating beignets and slurping hurricanes.

We got dressed and picked up our party pooper son and headed off to Brennan's.  Along with the sugar high, my adrenaline was pumped for Brennan's.  Our experience in Houston was just awesome and I wanted to have it replicated and perhaps even surpass its sibling.

The first thing I noticed when we entered the restaurant was that this was not as fancy as the Houston outpost.  It didn't alarm me because this was the French Quarter.  It was old and had character.  The second thing I noticed when we were escorted to our table was how not busy it was.  It was Saturday at 7.00 pm.  You would think it would be jumping with activity, it wasn't.  It was like a half bloomed tree.  We were greeted by a very young waiter.  He didn't look a day older than 18.  I found this strange.  When I ate at other peers of Brennan's like Galatoires, I had always been served by very seasoned professionals.  This was a food city and being a waiter was a real good paying job.  This wasn't like being a waiter at Applebee's.

The waiter was very nice, but he didn't know much.  He took out his pocket book and rehearsed his prose.  Everything was scripted.  He made no eye contact with us as he paraded through the lines, all dull and monotonous. What a buzz kill.

I was getting this funny feeling in my stomach that we weren't in Kansas anymore.  Something was odd, and not it a good way.  This wasn't what I had in mind.

We were given our menus and my concerns passed as the menu looked quite pleasant but much different than the one in Houston.  At this point I didn't know they shared nothing but the iconic name.

I was so ready to tell me wife and daughter what we had eaten in Houston and what I recommend for them to eat, but nothing looked familiar.  We were then brought bread. Oh yeah I thought, you guys are going to love these carb ridden delights.  Uhh no.  They weren't the same bread as in Houston.  In fact, they were nothing short of blah!  I started to sweat.  Houston we have a problem.  The evening was off to a triumphant thump.