Monday nights used to be for starting the work week, steeling yourself for the slog ahead, and mentally preparing to not punch that one really tedious coworker in the face–no matter how much they maybe might have deserved it. Mondays aren’t like that anymore since Junk Ditch started hosting hella hype-worthy monthly Monday night dinners. I just attended a Mardi Gras inspired dinner at Junk Ditch Brewing Company. Good company, good food, and good times were plentiful–like a fais do-do with no dancing. Laissez les bon temps rouler! Considering that Chef Andrew of Junk Ditch trained in NOLA under Chef Emeril Lagasse, nobody is surprised that this dinner was transportative. My home away from home is The Big Easy (Blech! Literally retching because only tourists refer to NOLA as “The Big Easy.” Apparently, I’ll write those words–for the blog’s sake and to humor you, dear reader–but you’ll never catch me speaking like that. I suffer for my art. You’re welcome.) Given my history with New Orleans, I feel informed enough to speak on the culture of this vibrant city with cuisine as rich and storied as its history. Like Tom Waits, I wish I was there right now. I am planning a trip back–it won’t be for a few more months–but this dinner really got me feeling like my next visit can’t come soon enough.
Lights up on our table–seven people and a bread course. Potato Rolls with Creole Butter were presented to us on a plank. (Love this presentation!) Volchy was there and, if you’ve been reading the blog for awhile, you’ll know that he and I coined a term, “better than bread.” The CliffsNotes version is that the bread served to start a meal should be good but the rest of the meal should be better. If the bread is the highlight of the meal, there’s a problem. This bread set a high standard for the rest of the meal to reach. Soft, pillowy rolls with lightly spiced Creole Butter–dreamy. Who doesn’t love buttery carbs? To be real, I could have eaten like six of these and been happy. I could have eaten like a dozen of these and called it a meal. But I behaved. I ate one. I didn’t upset the status quo. It took restraint. You’re welcome.
Our second plate, but arguably first course, was a Roasted Oyster with Pernod and Spinach. My dude, while I will forever argue that a single oyster is not enough–even for a tasting menu–this plate was bonkers! So, you can combine salt and egg whites to create, essentially, a crust. If you don’t know, now you know. Encase fish or meat in the concoction for dope results. On this particular occasion, the combination was actually used as a bed to hold our oyster shell–and it was a sexy as hell plating. Très chic! Atop the salty bed, half an oyster shell with a vibrant pop of spinach-green sauce and some crispy-bits of joy. There was some debate at the table if this bite was best devoured by fork or by slurping. I’ll slurp raw oysters all day long, but as soon as they’re cooked I feel like a fork needs to be involved. (Unless they’re breaded and fried–and then it’s fingers all day long, baby!) I wasn’t disappointed with my fork approach. I got essentially the whole nibble in one fell swoop. Best bite of the evening? Hard to say. It was definitely better than bread. I could eat a dozen or two of these babies and not be even a little bit sad. How could you be sad when you’re eating oysters? They’re an aphrodisiac. You can’t be sad while eating oysters–only horny. To pair, the Paul Dolan Sauvignon Blanc. This high acid wine came through clutch with green apple, lemon, and grapefruit notes. While it was the first pairing of the evening, it remained one of the most fun!
Our next course was Black Bean Soup and I can confidently say that it was unlike any other black bean soup I’ve ever had in my life. Having grown up spending many summers in Puerto Rico, black bean soup has long been on my radar. I make it at home sometimes: it’s a beloved cold weather dish. Often this soup has a thick texture–both from beans and the vegetables cooked with them. On this particular occasion, the soup was effectively vacant of texture. It was the most velvety, smooth black bean soup I’ve ever ingested. There was even a bit of Pernod in the broth; it burst with flavor. To fully enjoy this soup, you’d need to throw away any preconceived notions of black bean soup that you hold. You need to start with a fully blank slate, as if you’ve never once heard the words “black,” “bean,” and “soup” before. As its own thing, this soup kinda slapped. It was simply nothing like any black bean soup I’d ever had before. The soup was paired with the Parducci Chardonnay. A Californian wine, it was bright and crisp. Not a remarkable performance, but also no notes.
For the salad course, Shredded Romaine, Salami, Ham, Peppers, Olives, and Provolone. This salad was chopped to perfection. This type of salad is having a moment: internet famous and making the rounds on all social media platforms. This particular version was delicious, but difficult to explain. With not enough olives to be reminiscent of a Muffaletta, and not the right kind of meats to be reminiscent of a Po’ Boy, this salad was like the grinder (re: hoagie, hero, sub, or spuckie depending on your locale) of our collective dreams. I’m sure this salad could break the internet if it tried. To pair, a super fun wine–The Stump Jump White Blend. This blend is all the things you might want from a warm climate white wine. Super fruity, a nice balance of acidity and sweetness, and a little funkiness from some subtle vegetal qualities. Could quaff this–call it a porch pounder or couch crusher, if you must. This was also the white wine pick for the soup course pairing at Junk Ditch’s NYE dinner. I guess if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Next, to what was perhaps my favorite plate of the evening–Shrimp Ravioli with Shrimp Sauce. Two hefty ravioli were topped with some spicy andouille and ever-so-thinly sliced scallion. I am a ravioli girl and I’m not living in a ravioli world; but I should be, so I’m trying my best to make it one. When these juicy moments arise where I’m at a tasting dinner and get a plate with not one, but two, raviolis–I swoon. Life is beautiful and so was the ravioli. The little pasta pockets of deliciousness and joy were a wee bit spicy–I liked it. I liked it a lot. To pair, the Opici Chianti. If you’re a Chianti snob, maybe it’s not for you. This bottle comes straight out of the sunshine state–which, obviously, isn’t Italy. But, y’all, I for sure didn’t hate it. Like, cowabunga, this Chianti is full-bodied, not too tannic, and balanced with nice acid. Juicy red fruits with just a touch of spice. When it comes to pairing with food, this Chianti is fucking niiiiiiice.
Do you think short ribs are an undervalued and underutilized cut of beef? Yeah you right! We love all beef–but especially fork tender, flavor-poppin’ beef. For our final savory plate of the evening: Braised Beef Short Rib, Red Beans, Dirty Rice, and Hollandaise came together in perfect union. Did you know that dirty rice typically utilizes chicken lips, beaks, and spurs–I kid, obviously. It’s offal. No, not awful–it’s fucking fantastic–it’s chicken livers or whatever. I didn’t know about the chicken livers, but I did know I like it. I can tell you that the holy trinity of Cajun cuisine is onion, celery, and green bell pepper. (Like a mirepoix, but you swap the carrot for pepper.) I can tell you that the holy trinity of seasoning is black pepper, white pepper, and cayenne. I can tell you that I love red beans and rice but I couldn’t tell you how to make it. What I can confidently tell you is how to eat it–slowly savoring each bite, and with a lot of weird noises that border on being sexual. If you’re not “Mmming” somebody did something wrong. Junk Ditch made me “Mmm.” I’m sure the wine pairing helped–the Louis Bernard Côtes du Rhône. There was a lot going on with this French red wine. With bold tannins, this full-bodied wine boasted notes of jammy red fruit, smoke, leather, and spice. I’d love to revisit this wine, but paired with steak frites.
Ah, dessert–the course so many of us look forward to. Even being a savory chick, I can’t help but hold a soft spot in my heart (and a sweet tooth in my gaping maw) for really good desserts. Junk Ditch presented their take on a Bananas Foster. No flames, just torn banana cake topped with their iteration of a bananas-foster-type-sauce, brown sugar ice cream on a bed of sweet crumble, and a bit of torched banana. As a cake gremlin, I’ll never be mad about being fed a piece of cake–whether it’s served by someone who subscribes to the school of tearing cake or cutting neat, uniform slices. I also like bananas. And ice cream. And setting stuff on fire. This dessert wasn’t set on fire–I just kind of felt like we were having a beautiful moment of honesty and vulnerability, so I thought I’d come clean. Hi. I’m a closet pyromaniac. Anyway, if there’s leftover cake, can someone make sure I get a hefty portion? My doctor says I have a cake deficiency. It’s critical. I’m not long for this world–unless I get more cake. Good thing this dessert was paired with a glass of LaLuca Prosecco. If I’m going to die from a cake deficiency, at least I’ve gulped something nice and bubbly before prematurely departing from this mortal coil. This creamy crisp sip was effervescent, with lively bubbles, and all the typical green fruit and citrus notes you anticipate with this style of wine. It’s even a little toasty–who knew that the “better than bread” philosophy could even carry into the wine world.
I spend a lot of my time wishing I was in New Orleans. I can see it in my dreams. Arm-in-arm down Burgundy; a bottle and my friends and me. So, who would have thought my dreams would come true on Main Street in Fort Wayne, IN. These monthly Monday night dinners at Junk Ditch are really fantasies come to life. I’m already looking forward to what wild culinary adventure February will bring our way. So, wear that dress I like so well and meet me at Junk Ditch on the last Monday of the month. Make sure there’s a dixie moon. In January, NOLA, I was home–without ever leaving Fort Wayne. Who knows what magical universe we’ll be transported to next month. All I know is, the adventure always starts and ends at Junk Ditch.
Plonk & Pleasure 
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