Remembering 106 Kitchen’s Creole bent, we returned last month to savor the flavors of Mardi Gras.
It was a perfect night for gumbo and anything spiked with Tabasco or cayenne. Gusts of 50 miles-per-hour winds slapped us on a bracing walk along the beach, and by the time we arrived for an early Saturday night feed, we were ready to warm up and chow down.
After a refreshing hurricane cocktail, the official drink of Bourbon Street, we dug into a plate of southern fried oysters ($8). Piping hot, plump, and lightly coated with just the right amount of batter and seasoning, they were an unexpected midwinter treat, a nice break from fried clams.
The creamy Creole sauce with a hint of nutmeg (or was that pumpkin?) was worlds above tartar sauce. House-pickled veggies, a medley of beets and cauliflower, gave this appetizer a refreshing pucker. It seemed wrong to pop them in your mouth like tater tots, but hard to resist the urge.
Fried oysters also are served po’boy-style with grilled pineapple, green chili chutney, lettuce, and tomato on a toasted bulkie ($10). Sounds like a Guy Fieri road trip in the making. In chef Stephen “Reno’’ Diehl’s kitchen, fried food is refined, nongreasy, just right.
There is a relaxed, jeans and Uggs vibe to 106 Kitchen, open since May. The owners run several successful restaurants in the city, including the more upscale Jumpin’ Jay’s Fish Café. But for my money, I’ll take its more casual cousin.
Chef Reno, as he is known, learned to cook stick-to-your-ribs cuisine in Texas, although he grew up a short drive down the coast in Rye, N.H. You’ll see the Culinary Institute of America grad cooking up a southern fusion in the open kitchen, the heart of this snug yet comfortable 70-seater with a balcony.
Prince Edward Island mussels ($9) came next. Oddly, these beloved Canadian bivalves are not always prepared with love, even in bistros by the sea. But at 106 Kitchen they are nurtured and cared for with the utmost attention until they land in front of you with a delightful thud.
