The Eaten Path
Franky & Johnny's remains an Uptown classic.
|
|
The staff of Franky & Johnny's know how to boil crawfish to perfection.
|
WHAT: Franky & Johnny's
CUISINE: Regional
WHEN: Lunch and dinner daily
WHERE: 327 Arabella St., 899-9146
CARDS: Major
Visitors to the 30th annual Jazz & Heritage Festival will find
some of the most interesting indigenous cuisine in the state, this weekend, as
festival vendors compete for dollars with their soulful, sultry cooking. The
diversity and quality of dishes served at the 64 food booths prove that
Louisianians have a passion for flavor like nowhere else.
I could never imagine eating a meal at Jazz Fest -- or anywhere
else in south Louisiana -- that didn't stir my emotions with several levels of
taste. From the gritty fried oysters and softshell crabs along Lake
Pontchartrain to the spicy boiled crawfish served in seafood shacks near the
Vermilion River, flavor is everywhere.
Louisiana food is something that is in my blood. As a child of
Acadiana, I was raised on the belief that certain foods have curative powers --
like chicken and oyster gumbo for the flu, or buttermilk biscuits laced with
thick Steen's cane syrup to abate the blues.
Whenever I feel like I need a little nurturing, I head to such
down-home neighborhood haunts as Franky & Johnny's in Uptown, where a
steaming-hot bowl of delicious seafood gumbo soothes my soul. The earthy, rich
stock is deeply flavored with roux, and the soup is filled with plenty of
delicate little shrimp and tender chunks of okra. When I take seafood gumbo
home "to go," the flavor usually improves with a sprinkling of file and a shot
of hot sauce for added earthiness, and it always tastes better the next day,
like most gumbos.
But there is more than good gumbo at Franky & Johnny's. For the
past half-century, this rustic neighborhood hangout has served as a magnet for
locals. College kids hang out there evenings, and on weekends, families with
children pop in for supper. The bar is a scene unto itself. The ramshackle
building near the river has a long, dark bar where older characters usually can
be seen sitting for the better half of Saturday afternoons, sipping slowly on
beer while watching sports on the tube. Tunes spinning on the jukebox include
"Cryin' Time" by Dean Martin and "Mack the Knife" by Bobby Darin. In the back,
diners feast on big platters of hot, boiled crawfish, suck the splendid,
garlicky breading off the leaves of stuffed artichokes, and chow down on big
plates of crisply fried chicken and golden-fried softshell crabs with legs
dangling over the edges of French bread.
Although the portions aren't nearly as generous as some of the
seafood restaurants found around Bucktown or Bywater, the platters are big
enough. The seafood platter, for instance, includes a large stuffed crab (which
sometimes has breading outside the tin-foil shell, when the cook gets a
little impatient), a half-dozen fried shrimp (with tails on) and several fried
oysters (which are usually a bit watery), plus a fresh catfish fillet that
melts in the mouth, two pieces of toast drenched in butter, a dinner salad and
a heap of fries for $13.95. The prices are very modest, with appetizers
starting at $1.95, and most daily specials coming in under $6.
The ambience is priceless. Low ceilings, well-worn floors, frumpy
wood paneling and bright lights in the dining room combine to create an aura
that is just perfect for "sucking the heads" or chowing down on some of the
best alligator and crawfish pies in the state. The crust is sweet, and the
thick, spicy sauce is good enough to drink. We always order several of the
savory, tiny pies for the fridge.
Although Franky & Johnny's is off the beaten path, Al and
Tipper Gore paid the folks a visit and left behind signed photos that are
prominently displayed alongside other black-and-white photos of local celebs.
|
