[Evelyn]

Brad Brennan of the Las Vegas CP was quoted in this morning Las Vegas Review Journal...basically he says CP, which would have celebrated its 125th anniversary this year, is gone. Part of the building is washed away and the roof is gone...looting was also mentioned. Not salvagable...nor was the 18,000 bottle wine cellar...

[tanabutler]

Oh, that is tragic. I had my Commander's Palace cookbook out yesterday, looking through it. Now I'm determined to make something from it.

I have an online friend whose mother lived her whole life and died last year in New Orleans. Commander's Palace would routinely deliver her favorite foods to her house as her cancer weakened, gratis--she'd had so many fine meals there that they were just repaying her kindness.

That was a fine, fine place. This is so sad.

[Miguel Gierbolini]

I am sure they'll make a new one. They'll buy new bottles.

[ulterior epicure]

Well, the happy news is that Commander's Palace isn't gone. It's back. Here's an excerpt from my blog post. You can find the full-report (with some more details about or wonderful server) and the photos HERE.

*******

"He'll play it extra schmaltzy," said the leader of the jazz trio, nudging the trumpet player.

Indeed, he did. He played my song real nice like, smooth and sassy.

It was my first time at Commander's Palace, and our jazz brunch couldn't have been a more quintessential experience.

We ordered cocktails - a few too many.

Thick, rich, and sweet, the restaurant's signature Milk Punch was my favorite ($7.50). The "milk" refers to the half-and-half that is mixed with sugar and brandy (or bourbon upon request)*, the "punch" is for the smack it laid on me after a few sips. Served cold and topped with a dash of freshly grated nutmeg, it's like the lighter, more refreshing cousin to eggnog.

A couple (few?) Mimosas ($8) passed our way, along with a seasonal cocktail called the "Drunken Pumpkin" ($11), which, though it supposedly contained pumpkin juice, tasted almost entirely of citrus.

And because our double-fisted cocktailing wasn't enough, our wonderful server - Jennifer - brought us all shots of their "Holly Berry" cocktail ($10.25; Stoli Citrus vodka, Chambord liqueur, Pama pomegranate liqueur and fresh lemon).

So, it was with Jennifer's big smile, extra schmaltzy music in the background, and a table brimming with cocktails that we turned to the menu.

With the exception of supplements, which are clearly marked, the price of the three-course prix fixe brunch is the price assigned to the main course you choose.

Most who are familiar with the restaurant’s menu will tell you that the short list of required eating at Commander’s Palace includes the Shrimp & Tasso Henican, the Oyster & Absinthe “Dome,� the Bread Pudding Souffle (for dessert), and, last but not least, the legendary Turtle Soup.

We ordered all of these. And, sadly, none of them, save the "Oyster & Absinthe 'Dome,'" was particularly memorable. (And sadly, Evelyn, the crab cakes weren't on the menu.)

Of the first courses, that "Oyster & Absinthe 'Dome'" was my favorite. Creamy and rich, this warm oyster chowder was laced with a subtle hint of anisey Absinthe and capped with a round of puff pastry. Performing a little table-side surgery, Jennifer sawed the floating "dome" in half and submerged the two halves in the velvety soup. The oysters were fat, the flavor was complex. Together with the flaky puff pastry crumb, the chowder was magnificent..

The turtle soup was my least favorite of the three house soups ("Commander's Palace Soup Trio 1-1-1"). Actually, it was my least favorite taste of the entire meal. Splashed with some sherry table-side (my splash was more like a dribble), it had a nice flavor (I was told that the broth is made from veal stock, not turtle stock). But the turtle meat in my demitasse was dry and mealy, overcooked. That was a turn-off.

Having tasted what was probably the last word on seafood gumbo the night before, the one at Commander's Palace was flat by comparison. The soup was disappointingly thin, the flavor shallow.

The vegetable bisque (the soup du jour), on the other hand, couldn't have had been more flavorful. It was hard to believe that it contained no animal-derived stock. Fortified with a touch of dairy, it managed to be relatively light. It was, by far, my favorite of the three soups.

To my friend's disappointment, the "Foie Gras Pain Perdu"� wasn't on the menu. So, I asked for it. Jennifer made it appear (with a $10 surcharge).

This decadent breakfast creation could have been a meal on its own. Houston claims that there was a bit of vein left in the slice of pan-seared foie gras (though the corner I tried was fine), which was a bit troubling. But, I needn't tell you how sinfully delicious the rest of it was. Just look at the ingredient list above and imagine it for yourself.

Perhaps, like the Turtle Soup, the "Shrimp & Tasso Henican"� is a Southern specialty that I'm unable to fully appreciate. I'm sure that a restaurant of this size can’t possibly cook shrimp to order. And it shows. These shrimp had clearly been pre-cooked and over-cooked. They weren't bad, but they weren't great. Coated in a Crystal hot sauce “beurre blanc� they sat on a pool of sweet five pepper jelly, a sticky, warm syrup whose sweet-hot flavor was quite addictive. Along with pickled okra that garnished the plate, the strips of house-made Tasso ham stuffed into the vein canal of the shrimp were my favorite parts of this dish. Tasty though it was, I failed to grasp why it was so popular.

"Small"� is not a word associated with New Orleans cuisine, and "portion control"� is a concept foreign to Commander's Palace.

If the first courses were large, our main courses were over-generous. All of them were good, even Iggy's "Vegetable Puff," which Jennifer offered as an off-menu vegetarian option. Though it was served a touch cool, the buttery and flaky puff pastry box was filled with a flavorful tumble of roasted vegetables – a large format ratatouille of sorts – topped with a fluffy dollop of whipped mascarpone.

I can see why the "Pecan-Crusted Gulf Fish" is a house favorite. The fish was moist and flaky; the nut crust on top, toasty - magnificent, really. And the crushed corn sauce - think corn chowder meets gravy - was creamy, thick, and delicious.

Similarly, the popular "Eggs Cochon de Lait," which Jennifer plucked from "Chef Tony's Jazz Brunch"� prix fixe for me, was worthy of its favor. The biscuits were fluffy and soft, bound by a wonderfully flaky crust that held its own against runny yolks and a rich gravy. The ropey strands of pulled pork were moist and flavorful.

The grits here are sturdy but not stiff, the kind I like. They have just enough texture so you don't feel like you've regressed to infantile pulp. Unlike the shrimp on my Shrimp & Tasso Henican, the giant gulf shrimp that came piled on top of the grits seemed to be pan-fried to order ("Wild Gulf Shrimp & Grits"). But like the shrimp on my first course, these were just a smidge overcooked as well. However, glazed with a spicy barbecue sauce and tossed with sliced garlic, rosemary, and smoky grilled onions, the flavor was wonderful.

Desserts here are classic, large, iconic. And here again, the most famous one failed me, a victim of unreasonable expectations, I suspect.

The name "Bread Pudding Souffle" conjured in my mind a tall confectionery cloud pocketed with soft nubs of custard-soaked bread. Instead, the ramekin held a dense, heavy bread pudding base topped with an airy meringue dome. Punctured and filled with a boozy bourbon custard (truly a milk punch eggnog), we ate the top and left the bread pudding behind.

Those fluffy biscuits enjoyed a stunning encore in my "Strawberry Shortcake." Moistened slightly with fresh strawberry syrup and stuffed with sweet, ripe berries (locally, they"re in season in January) and a generous piping of whipped cream, this dessert was everything I could have hoped for. It was simple and straightforward, every component perfect.

Both the "Bananas Foster Sorbet"� and "Pecan Pie"� were well-made, though perhaps a bit forgettable. Nestled in a finely crafted caramel tuile cup, the sorbet tasted of ripe bananas; I can't say that there was anything particularly "Foster" about it. The pecan pie filling was thick and dense, a dark caramel jelly. Criss-crossed with chocolate and caramel sauce, this slice of pie had a turtle like effect. Perhaps an instance where less might have been more, it wasn't for me.

The food here isWell, the happy news is that Commander's Palace isn't gone. It's back. Here's an excerpt from my blog post. You can find the full-report (with some more details about or wonderful server) and the photos HERE.

*******

"He'll play it extra schmaltzy," said the leader of the jazz trio, nudging the trumpet player.

Indeed, he did. He played my song real nice like, smooth and sassy.

It was my first time at Commander's Palace, and our jazz brunch couldn't have been a more quintessential experience.

We ordered cocktails - a few too many.

Thick, rich, and sweet, the restaurant's signature Milk Punch was my favorite ($7.50). The "milk" refers to the half-and-half that is mixed with sugar and brandy (or bourbon upon request)*, the "punch" is for the smack it laid on me after a few sips. Served cold and topped with a dash of freshly grated nutmeg, it's like the lighter, more refreshing cousin to eggnog.

A couple (few?) Mimosas ($8) passed our way, along with a seasonal cocktail called the "Drunken Pumpkin" ($11), which, though it supposedly contained pumpkin juice, tasted almost entirely of citrus.

And because our double-fisted cocktailing wasn't enough, our wonderful server - Jennifer - brought us all shots of their "Holly Berry" cocktail ($10.25; Stoli Citrus vodka, Chambord liqueur, Pama pomegranate liqueur and fresh lemon).

So, it was with Jennifer's big smile, extra schmaltzy music in the background, and a table brimming with cocktails that we turned to the menu.

With the exception of supplements, which are clearly marked, the price of the three-course prix fixe brunch is the price assigned to the main course you choose.

Most who are familiar with the restaurant’s menu will tell you that the short list of required eating at Commander’s Palace includes the Shrimp & Tasso Henican, the Oyster & Absinthe “Dome,� the Bread Pudding Souffle (for dessert), and, last but not least, the legendary Turtle Soup.

We ordered all of these. And, sadly, none of them, save the "Oyster & Absinthe 'Dome,'" was particularly memorable. (And sadly, Evelyn, the crab cakes weren't on the menu.)

Of the first courses, that "Oyster & Absinthe 'Dome'" was my favorite. Creamy and rich, this warm oyster chowder was laced with a subtle hint of anisey Absinthe and capped with a round of puff pastry. Performing a little table-side surgery, Jennifer sawed the floating "dome" in half and submerged the two halves in the velvety soup. The oysters were fat, the flavor was complex. Together with the flaky puff pastry crumb, the chowder was magnificent..

The turtle soup was my least favorite of the three house soups ("Commander's Palace Soup Trio 1-1-1"). Actually, it was my least favorite taste of the entire meal. Splashed with some sherry table-side (my splash was more like a dribble), it had a nice flavor (I was told that the broth is made from veal stock, not turtle stock). But the turtle meat in my demitasse was dry and mealy, overcooked. That was a turn-off.

Having tasted what was probably the last word on seafood gumbo the night before, the one at Commander's Palace was flat by comparison. The soup was disappointingly thin, the flavor shallow.

The vegetable bisque (the soup du jour), on the other hand, couldn't have had been more flavorful. It was hard to believe that it contained no animal-derived stock. Fortified with a touch of dairy, it managed to be relatively light. It was, by far, my favorite of the three soups.

To my friend's disappointment, the "Foie Gras Pain Perdu"� wasn't on the menu. So, I asked for it. Jennifer made it appear (with a $10 surcharge).

This decadent breakfast creation could have been a meal on its own. Houston claims that there was a bit of vein left in the slice of pan-seared foie gras (though the corner I tried was fine), which was a bit troubling. But, I needn't tell you how sinfully delicious the rest of it was. Just look at the ingredient list above and imagine it for yourself.

Perhaps, like the Turtle Soup, the "Shrimp & Tasso Henican"� is a Southern specialty that I'm unable to fully appreciate. I'm sure that a restaurant of this size can’t possibly cook shrimp to order. And it shows. These shrimp had clearly been pre-cooked and over-cooked. They weren't bad, but they weren't great. Coated in a Crystal hot sauce “beurre blanc� they sat on a pool of sweet five pepper jelly, a sticky, warm syrup whose sweet-hot flavor was quite addictive. Along with pickled okra that garnished the plate, the strips of house-made Tasso ham stuffed into the vein canal of the shrimp were my favorite parts of this dish. Tasty though it was, I failed to grasp why it was so popular.

"Small"� is not a word associated with New Orleans cuisine, and "portion control"� is a concept foreign to Commander's Palace.

If the first courses were large, our main courses were over-generous. All of them were good, even Iggy's "Vegetable Puff," which Jennifer offered as an off-menu vegetarian option. Though it was served a touch cool, the buttery and flaky puff pastry box was filled with a flavorful tumble of roasted vegetables - a large format ratatouille of sorts – topped with a fluffy dollop of whipped mascarpone.

I can see why the "Pecan-Crusted Gulf Fish" is a house favorite. The fish was moist and flaky; the nut crust on top, toasty - magnificent, really. And the crushed corn sauce - think corn chowder meets gravy - was creamy, thick, and delicious.

Similarly, the popular "Eggs Cochon de Lait," which Jennifer plucked from "Chef Tony's Jazz Brunch"� prix fixe for me, was worthy of its favor. The biscuits were fluffy and soft, bound by a wonderfully flaky crust that held its own against runny yolks and a rich gravy. The ropey strands of pulled pork were moist and flavorful.

The grits here are sturdy but not stiff, the kind I like. They have just enough texture so you don't feel like you've regressed to infantile pulp. Unlike the shrimp on my Shrimp & Tasso Henican, the giant gulf shrimp that came piled on top of the grits seemed to be pan-fried to order ("Wild Gulf Shrimp & Grits"). But like the shrimp on my first course, these were just a smidge overcooked as well. However, glazed with a spicy barbecue sauce and tossed with sliced garlic, rosemary, and smoky grilled onions, the flavor was wonderful.

Desserts here are classic, large, iconic. And here again, the most famous one failed me, a victim of unreasonable expectations, I suspect.

The name "Bread Pudding Souffle" conjured in my mind a tall confectionery cloud pocketed with soft nubs of custard-soaked bread. Instead, the ramekin held a dense, heavy bread pudding base topped with an airy meringue dome. Punctured and filled with a boozy bourbon custard (truly a milk punch eggnog), we ate the top and left the bread pudding behind.

Those fluffy biscuits enjoyed a stunning encore in my "Strawberry Shortcake." Moistened slightly with fresh strawberry syrup and stuffed with sweet, ripe berries (locally, they"re in season in January) and a generous piping of whipped cream, this dessert was everything I could have hoped for. It was simple and straightforward, every component perfect.

Both the "Bananas Foster Sorbet"� and "Pecan Pie"� were well-made, though perhaps a bit forgettable. Nestled in a finely crafted caramel tuile cup, the sorbet tasted of ripe bananas; I can't say that there was anything particularly "Foster" about it. The pecan pie filling was thick and dense, a dark caramel jelly. Criss-crossed with chocolate and caramel sauce, this slice of pie had a turtle like effect. Perhaps an instance where less might have been more, it wasn't for me.

The food here isn't the reason why our brunch at Commander's Palace was my fondest one of the half dozen or so we had on my latest trip to New Orleans. Though most of it was good, none of it was any better than anything I could find in a very nice restaurant in a handful of restaurants around the country.

The Commander's Palace experience is a special one. And lucky for us, every ounce of magic promised was delivered to our table.

The service was wonderful - Jennifer sprinkled plenty of fairy dust on us.

The atmosphere was festive and fun - every table a celebration, including my table of very good friends.

The migrating jazz trio took requests along the way - they even played my song, extra schmaltzy.

And I walked out with a milk punch mustache just as a Hollywood star walked in for his late-afternoon brunch reservation.

Abuzz from the pork fat, butter, cream, sugar, and booze, we walked around the corner to admire the big, white, porch-lined house where Benjamin Button was filmed (it was for sale, we noticed). And right across the street, we caught a glimpse of a stately Victorian house that had just been bought by Ms. Bullock.

Starry-eyed and full, off I went with my angels to walk off our glut around the neighborhood, all the while plotting when I’d be able to return to Commander's Palace next. the reason why our brunch at Commander's Palace was my fondest one of the half dozen or so we had on my latest trip to New Orleans. Though most of it was good, none of it was any better than anything I could find in a very nice restaurant in a handful of restaurants around the country.

The Commander's Palace experience is a special one. And lucky for us, every ounce of magic promised was delivered to our table.

The service was wonderful - Jennifer sprinkled plenty of fairy dust on us.

The atmosphere was festive and fun - every table a celebration, including my table of very good friends.

The migrating jazz trio took requests along the way - they even played my song, extra schmaltzy.

And I walked out with a milk punch mustache just as a Hollywood star walked in for his late-afternoon brunch reservation.

Abuzz from the pork fat, butter, cream, sugar, and booze, we walked around the corner to admire the big, white, porch-lined house where Benjamin Button was filmed (it was for sale, we noticed). And right across the street, we caught a glimpse of a stately Victorian house that had just been bought by Ms. Bullock.

Starry-eyed and full, off I went with my angels to walk off our glut around the neighborhood, all the while plotting when I’d be able to return to Commander's Palace next.

[Suzanne F]

The Brennans are one tough family. In the best possible way. Cheers to them.

Slightly OT: does anyone know how things are at their place in Houston (iirc) that had the fire?

[Peter Creasey]

does anyone know how things are at their place in Houston (iirc) that had the fire?

Suzanne, It is being rebuilt and due to reopen soon. Their chef went on to other pursuits, though.