A Truly Great Italian Restaurant

(with a weird name)

Today, the regional group of ministers of my denomination had their monthly meeting, this time in New Orleans (we alternate between here and Baton Rouge -- we used to also go to the North Shore and to the Gulf Coast, but those ministers are no longer in the area). When it's my turn to pick the restaurant, out of pure selfishness, I always choose Eleven-79. I say "selfishness" because Eleven-79 is located on my street, only a few blocks from my house, and so I can walk to the gathering, and because it is one of my favorite restaurants in the city -- which of course is saying a lot.

You can't tell what kind of restaurant it is by the name, which merely refers to the location. You also can't tell from the exterior, which is a neat little four-bay Creole cottage, typical of the 1840s or earlier, with a diagonal door cut likely done in the early twentieth century, when one side of the original double was made into a neighborhood grocery. A loving renovation was done around 2000, turning it into an elegant and intimate restaurant, perfect for a romantic dinner, or a nice business lunch.

But the real draw of Eleven-79 is the food, which is classic Italian, not the usual Creole-Italian that is so prevalent in New Orleans. With a few exceptions (like the addition of buster crabs, for example, and the -- alas! -- absence of broccoli rabe), the restaurant's menu could be duplicated in South Philadelphia in the Italian Market.

The portions are large (I always go home with a box or two of leftovers), the pastas are fresh and al dente, the sauces rich and satisfying and authentically redolent of Italy. Another treat is the classic jazz playing on the sound system, with an emphasis on the Italian greats (Dino Martin, Sinatra, Louis Prima) and of course the New Orleans greats (Satchmo is in heavy rotation).

On the wall as you enter the dining room from the bar (stepping up from ground level into what once was the family living quarters adjoining the grocery), you pass a three-quarters portrait of a young Louis Prima holding his trumpet. This is not a surprise, because the owner of Eleven-79 is none other than Joseph Segretto, Prima's last manager before suffering the stroke that eventually resulted in his death. (You can bet that when Big Man and I eat at Eleven-79, we are happy to swap stories about Louis and Sam Butera and all the guys in the band with him!)

Favorites at Eleven-79 include the duck lasagna (oh my god!), the fried oysters topped with caviar, the thick and homey cucuzza sauce over pasta, the creamy alfredo sauce, the pasta with wild mushrooms, the roasted artichoke appetizer, and the traditional classics like pasta bolognese, the meatball sandwich, the eggplant parm and ALL the veal dishes (if you're a person who lets yourself eat veal, that is).

Some of the desserts are from Brocato's (of course!) and the bread is a wonderful, crusty Italian ciabatta. The coffee is dark and rich and satisfying. The service is usually excellent to wonderful, and only slips a bit when the place is packed, as around a holiday period.

If you're in the mood for some great Italian food, in a lovely, unlikely place (Eleven-79 is located almost under the Pontchartrain Expressway, across the street from an auto body shop), we highly recommend Eleven-79.