69 Broadway
by Peter Bradford

No city in this country can stake claim to hatching more kinds of original cuisine than New Orleans. Of course, the roots of Cajun and Creole cooking really lie elsewhere, and their particularities have been somewhat pureéd.
You know about Cajun cooking. A serious Cajun dish is a robust and savage affair; it can rise off your plate, yank your taste buds out, and chase them around the room. More politely, it is called pungent, peppery, one-pot peasant food, originating in the simple bayou life of the French Acadians in Southern Louisiana. Creole food is more refined, subtle, and cosmopolitan, a city-like mix with more direct European, African and West Indies roots.
Happily, I can report that 69 Broadway, a new restaurant in Tivoli, manages to deliver the best qualities of both. You can find heat on the menu if you want, but there are plenty of benign fellows to be found as well. I set off with Broadway Crawfish in a delicate white wine, herb, and butter sauce, over which I lingered and sopped. Then came Rogan's Demand, a lush and creamy tomato sauce with sauteed shrimp over linguini. There was a tinge of mystery flavor, but no spicy after-taste. Together, the two choices were a vastly satisfying couple, especially for one who craves seafood so much he could take a bite out of a fish pier. My wife, gentle soul, had the Broadway House Salad, a stylishly large, seductively fresh nosegay of garden veggies and cheese chunks, then the Oven-Roasted Portobello Mushrooms (plural) stuffed with eggplant and roasted garlic. Not a leaf survived.
We sat in an open, generous room, with grand windows on two sides, divided down the middle with a long, dark wood bar. Once the Cafe Pongo, the interior has been cleared of partitions. But, the deep redness of the walls (my wife called it marron glacé, the red tone of chestnuts), the glowing wall sconces, and the overall darkness of the wood chairs and tables offset the size of the volume. I have problems with the fripperies of restaurants, like pointy white napkins standing stiff in glasses, but there was none of that; instead a calm and craftsman-like sobriety lay on the table; the business to be done here was hearty and unadorned eating.
Nevertheless, there is whimsy on the premises. When I asked the chef John Matranga (who operates the place with two partners, Larry Clark and Stuart Hannan) to name his entree favorites, he said Chicken Fried Steak (a surprise) and Dark and Stormy Grouper. We both laughed: "It was a dark and stormy night," the immortal first line written by Edward Bulwer-Lytton in his 1830 novel, inspires a yearly world-wide contest for writing really bad openings to imaginary books. John's Dark and Stormy Grouper is pan-fried dish and finished in a Bermuda "cocktail" sauce of Black Seal rum and ginger beer. For starters, Larry Clark likes the Gumbo or Jambalaya and John favors the Fried Oysters, which also appear on the menu list of burgers and Po' Boys, "the traditional New Orleans sandwich, big and sloppy, served plain or dressed with lettuce, tomato, and an obscene amount of mayo."
John and Larry hooked up fifteen years ago in Rhinebeck's LaParmigiana restaurant, which later became the home of Marco Polo restaurant and then today's Terrapin. With Stuart, 69 Broadway is the partners' first independent venture. Building delays prevented their opening until early last December, "definitely not the best time to open a new restaurant," but custom is now thickening up quite nicely. (By my count, there are seven places to eat along Tivoli's scanty white way. Doesn't anybody eat at home around there?) Altogether, with its intriguing blend of South Louisiana flavors, quick and friendly service, easy quiet with a distant beat of street jazz, and enveloping interior warmth (interiors by Arno Cornillon, Tivoli paintings by Joel Griffith), we found culinary haven. u
69 Broadway, dinner 5:00-11:00 on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, 5:00-12:00 on Friday and Saturday Brunch 11:30-3:00 on Sunday. Closed Wednesday. A la carte; salads and starters, $4.50-$10; sandwiches and burgers, $7-$11; entrees $10-$16; desserts $5-$6. (845) 757-5770.
Risotto Primavera
by Cait Johnson
This colorful, easy-to-make recipe evokes the sensual springtime pleasures of Botticelli's famous painting by the same name. It is a soul-satisfying dish that is not only open to variation--it positively thrives on it. You can make a gloriously individualized Risotto Primavera by choosing whatever spring produce looks most fresh and appealing, and incorporating it into the basic recipe. As long as you use good-quality Arborio rice you just can't go wrong, and the result will be both lusciously creamy and flavorful, rich with the lively tastes and verdant energies of Spring.
Serves 4
- 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
- 1 medium onion, chopped
- 1 red pepper, seeded and diced
- 2 cups mushrooms, thickly sliced (use a combination of varieties, if you like)
- 2 garlic cloves, mined
- 1 1 /2 cups Arborio rice
- 4 cups vegetable or chicken stock, or water
- 4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
- 1/2 teaspoon sea salt, or to taste
- 13 asparagus spears, washed and cut into 1-inch slices, or 2 cups fresh greens, washed and coarsely chopped (possibilities include broccoli rabe, spinach, new peas, chard)
- 1/4 cup freshly-grated Romano or Parmesan cheese (optional)
- Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan. Add onion, pepper, mushrooms, and garlic and cook, stirring frequently, for around 8 minutes, until the onion is softened, golden, and translucent.
- Stir in the rice, 2 cups of the stock or water, parsley, and salt. Bring to a simmer and then cook over low heat, uncovered, for about 10 minutes, stirring frequently.
- Stir in the remaining stock or water and the asparagus or greens. Continue to cook, stirring, until the rice is al dente--tender but still slightly firm on the inside--about 10 minutes.
- Remove the risotto from the heat and fold in grated cheese, if desired. Serve hot.
Cait Johnson is the author of Witch in the Kitchen: Magical Cooking for All Seasons (Inner Traditions, 2001), available at local bookstores.