It's a hard life food blogging here in New Orleans!

[Brown food at the Gumbo Shop]

You might have noticed that I'm finding it much harder to blog here in New Orleans. So maybe now is a good time to trot out some lame excuses - and perhaps my other fellow bloggers can relate to this.

My first problem is that New Orleans restaurants are atmospheric - or dare I say gloomy? Twice now I've found myself reading menus by the light of my mobile, and that's not really conducive to quality food photography. Trust me, flash never helps, unless you're prepared to set up a whole lighting rig in the restaurant. Strangely, that can cause problems with the management.

[Cocktails are hard to photograph]

Secondly, I'm no longer dining alone. It can be hard to interrupt the flow of conversation to start rummaging in for the SLR, asking your companion to 'just hold this lens', move their dinner to the right to improve the composition, decide that their dinner would actually make a better picture than yours, so you swap the plates round - and so on.

There's also a risk when you're with someone else that you just start eating when the food arrives - and realise halfway through you're supposed to take a picture. Occasionally, I've resorted to rearranging the plate to hide the bite marks, but normally, it's too late.

Also, the food here often shares a problem with the dishes I discovered on my Tex Mex road trip - it's mostly brown. Sorry, but red beans and rice, gumbo and jambalaya don't really photograph that well. It's all a bit, well, monochromatic. And sloppy.

We've also been exploring the world of the cocktail here - and again, glasses of similarly coloured liquids rarely photograph well.

[Fried chicken is also brown, if very tasty]

Now, that's not to say I haven't taken a few good pictures here in New Orleans - I have steamboats, Mardi Gras floats, balconies, bands and graveyards. If you'd like to pop over to my Flickr account, you can see those there. But food? not so good!

However, I have one awful picture that I won't share with you here - that's going to need a post all to itself. I'm not sure even perfect lighting could have saved that one. I'll explain all very soon ...

Greetings from New Orleans! Anyone for alligator in a bun?

[The French Market]

Okay, I admit it, I've been slow to write about New Orleans.

The problem is that there's too many distractions - last night I was distracted by a remarkably strong, bright red cocktail with a cherry in it, a fountain that burst into flames and a bagpiper playing Jesus Christ Superstar. So hopefully you'll forgive me.

So, anyone for alligator in a bun?

I came to New Orleans knowing surprisingly little about the cuisine - but what I did know is that the French influence meant they took their food very seriously here.

My big book of clichés suggests I call the city a 'melting pot', and it's very tempting to do so. There are influences of French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Native American and African cuisines. The two main cuisines are Creole and Cajun, and I'm only just learning the difference.

You could say it's as simple as a tomato. Creole food has them, Cajun doesn't. Equally, you could say that Creole food is 'city' food and Cajun food is 'country'.

[A Gumbo]

It's also worth noting that although Cajun food is Louisianian in origin, I've read that it only arrived on the New Orleans restaurant scene in the 1980s.

What ever the truth is, dishes from both cuisines seem readily available in the city - a slight bias to Creole in the upmarket restaurants and to Cajun in the market stalls.

So, time to build the checklist - from Creole, there's Gumbo, the classic dark fish stew. There's Jambalaya, the Creole cousin of paella. There's red beans and rice.

In the Cajun camp, we have blackened catfish, the spicy boudin and andouille sausages and, of course, the alligator.

Finally, we have dishes that seem to be to be more of New Orleans itself - for example, the po'boy, a variation on the sub / baguette with a light, crispy roll.

[Beignets at Cafe Du Monde]

Or there's the muffaletta, an Italian influenced cheese, ham and olive sandwich designed to feed a family of four.

Oh and we mustn't forget the beignet - the light doughnut served with mountains of icing sugar, classically served at the Cafe Du Monde (which, conveniently, is just moments from our apartment).

So, New Orleans, you're going to do nothing for my diet, post-Texas, but we're definitely going to have fun. And I haven't even got round to talking about the cocktails yet!

More reading:
Cajun vs Creole food.
Cajun vs Creole - what's the difference?

American food is just burgers and pizzas?

[White Pie with Spinach, Home Slice, Austin]

When I'm at home in England, talking about American food, there are three words I love to say - 'biscuits and gravy'. It always gets a shudder.

Here in the UK, a biscuit is a small cookie, like a digestive or a hob-nob. Gravy is always brown and very meaty. The idea of mixing the two - and even my American readers will agree here - is quite repulsive.

I then explain that in the US a biscuit is a type of scone, and that gravy can also be pale - that it's basically what we call 'white sauce', with some meat pan juices and pepper added. It's still a bit strange - scones are really meant for cream and jam - and a good illustration that there's more to American food than just burgers and pizzas.

Then I'd say 'shrimp and grits' (prawns with small stones to us English) and off we'd go again.

[Pizza frisbee, Home Slice, Austin]

But although American food isn't all about pizza and burgers, we must admit it is something you do seriously well - and I love to seek out the best examples when I'm over there.

This year I made a pilgrimage to Home Slice Pizza in Austin. Now, they claim to be authentic New York pizza, and I claim to not to really understand what means. I just know it's some of the best pizza I've ever had.

It's not just that it's a perfect thin crust pizza with a range of imaginative toppings (including white pizzas, without tomato, which I'd not had before). It's also got the buzz right. The place is small, dark and noisy. The staff are friendly, cute and tattooed. They gave my daughter a ball of dough to play with, and she's been in love with the place ever since.

It's also pizza you eat with your hands - they even give you a guide on how to fold it (take a triangular slice, and fold in half from centre to edge - insert pointed end into mouth), and that too makes it a more sensual experience. Just thinking about it makes me happy.

[The Porter Burger, Porter's, Austin]

To illustrate what a difference the atmosphere can make to the enjoyment of food, I also went to Porter's Ale House Gastropub on South 1st St. I'd agonised about this place recently, as it was a long walk from my hotel but I didn't want to drive (in the end, I caught the bus). I had some rather nice beer, and their signature burger with brie, pancetta and kettle chips. A bit rich, but what do you expect?

Now, I could get a bit cynical here. Let's say you're a new restaurant, in an area that's outside the main food districts. How do you get discovered? Well, one good route would be to a design a burger that's going to get noticed by the food writers and burger blogs. Like one with unusual ingredients. That perhaps gets you mentioned in the list of the 15 most splurge worth burgers in America on Zagat for example? Which lands in the mailbox of an Englishman who's off to Austin soon?

Well, I'll never object to a bit of publicity and marketing - the burger was tasty - but what I needed was a bit of buzz and atmosphere to make it a truly incredible burger. And I didn't get that being the only diner in your restaurant. I know it's not your fault.

The next night I walked to Guero's, just up from my hotel. It's standard Mexican fare, in a big fun restaurant with plenty of people watching opportunities.  I hate to say it, I had a better evening.

City Market, Lulling - and the end of the line!

[City Market, Lulling]

Well, it's a sad moment, I've just had my last Texas barbecue - for this year at least. Alas, I didn't entirely go out on a high. City Market in Lulling has a top reputation, and is certainly popular - they had by far the longest queue so far. Like Smitty's in Lockhart, you queued for your meat first, served in butcher's paper, then queued again for sides and took a seat in the busy dining room.

However, like Smitty's, this brisket was too lean, at least to my tastes. The flavour was fine, but it just wasn't the unctuous  experience I've had elsewhere. A little bit of a damp squib for my last lunch.

So, in conclusion, how's my Texas Barbecue Adventure been? Well, I've enjoyed it hugely, and feel I've really only scratched the surface. I chose to only eat brisket, as that's the quintessential Texan barbecue meat, but I know this means I've missed out on a world of sausages, chops and chicken.

I know I've also missed some great joints - of the famous places, I've missed Kreuz's and Chisholm's in Lockhart, Franklin's in Austin and the pits along the road to Llano. There must also be hundreds of little joints that weren't even on my radar from all the way in England (although the internet means that nowhere stays a secret for long).

[City Market, Lulling]

Where would I go back to? Wild horses couldn't stop me eating again in Louie Mueller's in Taylor, Blacks in Lockhart or Cooper's in Llano. Even thinking about those places gets me salivating.

I've also learned that that no two briskets are the same, and that I much prefer the fattier end when I'm given a choice. I also know I'm sucker for atmosphere and experience - as much as I love a smart restaurant, barbecue somehow tastes better when eaten off paper with your fingers, on a long table with kitchen roll and sliced bread in front of you.

But this year's food adventure doesn't stop here. Next stop is New Orleans - quite literally, as I'm heading there at high speed on the Amtrak as I type. Time to learn a whole new food vocabulary. What's the difference between Cajun and Creole? Jambalaya, gumbo and bouillabaisse? What, exactly, is a roux? Watch this space!

Beer and Barbecue in San Antonio

[San Antonio River Walk]

It's very hard to judge a city's restaurant scene - or anything else about it for that matter - by one night in its tourist district.

I wouldn't want you to judge London by Leicester Square, or damn Amsterdam based purely on the Leidseplein. So know I shouldn't have expect too much from the River Walk.

Things started very promisingly. My hotel was a little way from the centre, and the walk alongside the river was charming indeed. To my London readers, imagine the Regent's Canal, but with tropical planting and another ten degrees of heat!

But as I approached the central loop, things took a turn for the worse. The crowds got thicker and thicker. The restaurants, when they did appear, were of the branded, mass catering kind. Huge barns of places, run by managers, not chefs. I just knew they had laminated cards in the kitchen tell them what to defrost when.

All I wanted was a quiet drink and a simple dinner somewhere cosy. Whereas here, as a table of one, I would be lost among the families of seven, the hen do's and the work outings.

So I head back up the River Walk to a bar I'd spotted on the way down - it had had the right sort of vibe, claiming to be the oldest tavern on the walk. But at the time I didn't want to stop at the first half decent place I'd seen and decided to carry on. Of course, now, it looked like the best option.

Well, the place I ended up was called The Esquire Tavern, and it had actually been recommended in the comments on an earlier post. It apparently has the longest bar in Texas, and it served me a welcome cold beer and some delicious tacos. It was also, quite possibly, the darkest place I have ever eaten in, and none of my photos came out. I'm sorry! But trust me, it's cool, atmospheric and possibly the most charming place on this end of the River Walk.

[Granary Brew and Cue]

The next night I was going to break with tradition and eat barbecue for dinner. Normally, barbecue is a lunch speciality - in fact, it's often seen as a sign of quality how quickly a place can sell out. Franklin's, in Austin, is famous for selling out before lunch.

Things are different at Granary Cue and Brew however. They do lunch, but for dinner the food is modern American, with a barbecue influence. I had the most traditional option, the market plate, a selection of the day's barbecue. Today it was pulled pork and brisket, along with bowls of beans, potato salad and sauce for the pork. I also had a few glasses of quite delicious beer brewed on the premises.

This was probably most like the barbecue I'd had in England - served by and sold to hip young men with smart beards, on plates, with cutlery. There was none of that rough and readiness of the small town barbecue joint, this was a smart, up market restaurant. I wasn't surprised to hear they'll be coming to England for the Meatopia festival.

[Granary Cue and Brew]

If I were an old cynic, I'd say the modern twist involved serving me half the normal amount of barbecue for twice the price - but I'm not in a cynical mood. I'd enjoyed the balmy walk along the river to get here, I'd enjoyed my beers and a quick chat with the owner. The brisket was as good as anything I'd had this trip, and there's always room for upscale barbecue. Not everyone wants to eat with the good-ol-boys with kitchen roll and white-sliced bread on the table.

However, I do love the authentic places -  I can eat clean and shiny barbecue in London any time I want (and I must go back to see how they compare), but places like Mueller's, Blacks, Smitty's and Cooper's are quintessentially American, an experience I'll never get the likes of in London.

So, after a shaky start, I had two great meals in San Antonio, and I look forward to meeting Granary Cue and Brew on my home turf!

Getting saucy in Llano! Cooper's Old Time Pit Bar-B-Que.

[At the pit in Cooper's]

Have I mentioned before that I don't like the I35? Yes, it's the backbone road through Texas. Yes, it's part of the Pan America Freeway, the road that allows you to travel from Alaska to the tip of South America (and what a road trip that would make).

But it's also 6 lanes of yawn, and there was no way I was driving it to San Antonio.

Instead, perversely, I started by driving west, to Llano. Now, there's a road paved with good barbecue. There's the Schmidt Family BBQ in Bee Cave and Opie's in Spicewood. But I was strong, and held on for Cooper's Old Time Pit Bar-B-Que in Llano.

[A Cornucopia of Meat!]

Now, every place does it differently, and at Cooper's you get to stand at the pit, admire the cornucopia of meat, and choose what you want. I've heard that some people get barbecue paralysis at this point, unable to choose, but I was focussed. Yes, I wanted brisket. And then something strange happened.

The lovely chap above asked me a question I didn't quite make out, and as I often do when I don't want to admit I don't understand, I said 'yes' (one day this is going to get me into trouble). So he picked up my meat and dunked it in a large pot of sauce on one side of pit. Sauce?! I'm no expert, but I thought the whole point of Texan barbecue was that it didn't have sauce?

[Brisket - with sauce!]

Well, no, it doesn't have sauce in the sense of the sticky, ketchup and brown sugar sludge that you tend to have poured over cheap pork ribs. But this is special sauce, this is mop sauce, and I did a little research.

Because of the continual opening and closing of the pit, it can run a little hot. So a mop sauce is used to moisturise and cool down the meat. You can learn  a lot more about this over at AmazingRibs, but it's basically stock, vinegar and bits and bobs of fat that have fallen off the meat.

Not knowing all this, I was worried that I might ruined a delicious looking lump of brisket - so after having it sliced for me, I sat down with a degree of nervous anticipation in the main dining room.

[Cooper's Dining Room]

Well, I shouldn't worried, these guys know what they're doing. The sharpness of the vinegar just cuts through the fat and complements it perfectly, and adds just a little more moisture to an already melt-in-the-mouth brisket.

Cooper's easily joins my completely unscientific list of best barbecue in the world! Oh, and their potato salad was the best so far too.

More of the best - Black's BBQ and Smitty's Market, Lockhart

[Black's BBQ, Lockhart, Texas]

Okay, it's time for some excuses. After all the bravado about eating at all the Lockhart barbecue establishments, I only managed two.

Perhaps it was the vast cinnamon roll I had with breakfast. Maybe it's the heat, which does sap my appetite. Maybe I needed some company to egg me on. Maybe I'm just an English lightweight who can't take his barbecue.

That said, the barbecue I did have was fantastic. First stop was Black's BBQ. They've been owned by the same family since 1932, and are definitely a 'must eat' stop on any Texas BBQ tour.

[Brisket at Black's]

I'm sure all these places put a lot of effort into looking like they make no effort at all - part of the experience is how rough and ready these places are. They give you the feeling you've stumbled into a forgotten, locals only haunt. Yet chatting in the queue (which was all men of my age and above), no one was from Lockhart. Everyone was here on pilgrimage, mostly from the big cities of Dallas or Houston. I'd come the furthest, unsurprisingly.

So what was it like? Well, now I'm regretting the hyperbole of yesterday's post. It was every bit as good as Louie Mueller's. Just the right amounts of fat, crust and meat. If my first trip had been here, I would have been loudly proclaiming that this was the best barbecue in the world. I would hate to choose between the two, but luckily I don't have to, and nor should you. Try both. Now.

[The pit at Smitty's]

Next, off to Smitty's Market, a short walk across Lockhart's rather charming square. My first impression was that it was closed, but no, I pushed against a darkened door to find myself in a corridor leading up to the pits. How anyone can work in those conditions amazes me - the sacrifices they make for us barbecue lovers!

Smitty's had the ambience and authenticity spot on - I took my little parcel of brisket, wrapped in butcher's paper, through to the dining room. There I picked up a soda and some potato salad, and took a seat. I took a bite, and I hate to say this, I was disappointed.

Compared to Black's earlier, this was drier, chewier, less succulent. There was a good smoke flavour, but the texture wasn't working for me. Now, Smitty's didn't get to be an institution by serving bad brisket, so maybe the mistake was mine. Maybe I should have ordered a fattier slice (as that's definitely to my taste). Maybe they just had a bad day. But after two sublime barbecue moments, this was a disappointment. It was just, well, okay.

[Dining room at Smitty's]

Now I had a dilema. I was full. Kreuz Market, my third stop, is a huge barn of a place just out of town. I'd enjoyed the three places I'd visited so far for their charm and history, and I didn't imagine I'd get that from Kreuz's. I was also too full to want to go for the meat alone.

So I decided to quit while I was ahead and drive back to Austin. Kreuz's, I apologise, I might have missed the best barbecue of the day, but I don't think I would have appreciated it. I'll come back another year. I promise.

Ps. You can see more photos from here, and my travels in general, at my Flickr account.