Dixie Dining in Northern Times Square

Comments (0) By Jessica Harris Tuesday, Nov 21 2000

Ever since I up and bought a house in New Orleans to celebrate my croning, I've been hankering to find a New York kitchen where I could get my fill of gumbo and po'boys in between US Air flights. So I was thrilled to get a call from my Texas girlfriend about the Delta Grill, located on the edge of the theater district. The Delta evoked by the grill's decor is not the cast-iron balconies of the Big Easy, but the neighborhood joints where a step into the cool interior brings relief from the heat and you can get a Bloody Mary or a Sazerac at any hour of the day. Tin roofs overhang the bar and dining area, and the slowly circling ceiling fans overhead make even November's chill seem sultry.

photo: Tara Engberg

Central-casting Blackened Voodoo—Ninth Avenue’s Delta Grill

Location Info

Map

Delta Grill

700 9th Ave.
New York, NY 10036

Category: Bars/Clubs

Region: West 40s

1 user reviews	Write A Review
Save to foursquare

Details

Delta Grill
700 Ninth Avenue, 212-956-0934.
Daily noon to midnight.
Major credit cards.
Limited wheelchair access.

More About

This was the central-casting Delta, but when I looked around, I spied a crowd of black and white folks happily scarfing down the food that made southern Louisiana famous. Then I noticed a framed letter from New Orleans mayor Marc Morial's executive chef near the desk where you find out how long the wait will be at this no-reservations place. It proclaimed in effusive prose that these vittles were some of the most authentic renderings of the Crescent City's food he'd tasted. This must be the place, I thought. Seated under a life-size statue of Satchmo, I ordered a Blackened Voodoo and gave the menu a squint.

The chef was right about the offerings—a range of Southern, Creole, and Cajun suspects had been rounded up. There was even the obligatory alligator ($9), too chewy and dense as usual, with any flavor it might have had overpowered by a red sauce that seemed based almost entirely on Tabasco. The blackened tofu salad with shiitake mushrooms and couscous ($7), which I ordered because that's my job, was tastier than anticipated, a mess of baby greens little harmed by the removable strips of rubbery tofu. I even rather liked the sprinkling of couscous topping, but the heavy dressing was a disservice to the fragile mesclun.

Other Crescent City standards were up to snuff and then some. The closet Southerner in me knew that the fried okra ($6) was pure bliss: tender nubbins of mucilaginous pod fried to perfection with not the slightest hint of slime, crunchy with a crisp crust that crumbled in the mouth to mix with the pod's softness. Fannie Flagg would have been proud to serve the green tomatoes, which were crisped to a turn and then topped with creamed chicken flecked with black pepper ($8). Yum, the daddy in the kitchen could fry.

A foray into Creole cuisine revealed that the chicken and andouille gumbo tasted slightly of burned roux ($5 cup, $8 bowl), but the burn was gone on a second visit, and I've been spoiled by vats of Ken Smith's finest at NOLA's Upperline. A blackened strip steak special ($22) was thick and juicy but strangely bland, requiring Emeril to bump it up a few notches. The light, flaky catfish po'boy with a tang of Creole mustard in its batter ($9) confirmed the chef's mastery of bubbling oil, mitigated any disappointment, and kept me more than satisfied. I need to look farther afield for the Creole spot of my dreams, but when I crave a fried fix, I'll just head on down to the Delta. The Delta Grill, that is.