Restaurants

I Am the Walrus, Part 2

Continued from page 1

The lump crabmeat in Magnolia's signature salad is brilliantly set off by a dressing that includes mayonnaise, capers, lemon juice and parsley -- a recipe Magnolia stole from Galatoire's in New Orleans. The crab is then generously heaped on a bed of lettuce and surrounded by avocado and tomato slices. With the notable exception of Cafe Annie's crab tostadas, the crab maison salad may be the best crab salad in Houston.

After four trips through the buffet line and scads of oysters, étouffée, fried catfish, Cajun vegetables and a slice of rare roast beef au jus, I finally finished off my brunch with a made-to-order crawfish omelette and some bread pudding with whiskey sauce.

Tuesday is a special night at Magnolia Bar & Grill. A music group called the Guzzlers performs on the patio. The musicians are oil-field-services entrepreneurs who wish they were rock stars, and they're cheered on by oil-field guys from all over western Louisiana and East Texas. The crowd includes few women, and the ones who do happen by quickly become objects of intense interest.

"What a great place to look for a sugar daddy," one of my dining companions observed last week, when I met two attractive young women there for dinner.

We started off with two and a half dozen oysters. (One of the women, an oyster novice, could handle only six.) The oysters came to the table freshly shucked and full of brine. They were even better than the ones I'd had at brunch. I don't think there was one in the entire bunch that was more than three inches long.

The kitchen had just received the first fresh crawfish of the season, the waitress told us, so we got two pounds of those for a second appetizer course. Because it was so early in the season, the crawfish were extremely small. And thanks to the bold seasonings in Magnolia's kitchen, they were incredibly spicy. We couldn't stop eating them, even after our entrées arrived.

I got the slow-cooked Opelousas baked duck, which was served with caramelized roasted yams, rice dressing and a little cup of chicken-and-sausage gumbo. The parts of the duck that were covered with the crispy skin were extremely moist. I ate them with a little of the sweet roasted yam. The breast was a bit dried out, and at the suggestion of the waitress, I put that meat in the soup, creating a sort of baked duck gumbo. It was a sensational entrée all around.

The oyster novice got the fried seafood platter, which included some giant shrimp that had been butterflied and dipped in a spicy breading before being fried. There was also a stuffed shrimp and a stuffed crab, which tasted much alike, thanks to the similarity of the stuffings, plus some outstanding hand-cut french fries. She also handed me a so-so fried oyster (it got dried out because it was too small) and a slippery frog's leg.

The sugar-daddy shopper got the Magnolia dinner, which included "eggplant royal," a dish of baked eggplant stuffed with shrimp and crabmeat; crab au gratin, crabmeat smothered in cheese sauce; and sides of rice dressing and vegetables. After the oysters and crawfish, she could barely eat any of her entrée. I helped out the best I could, but I had to admit, the plate was an embarrassment of richness.

When Magnolia Bar & Grill first opened in '83, I ate there often. But in the last few years, I haven't had anything but oysters and crawfish at the bar. Too bad I was missing out on the baked duck and the spicy gumbo. Come to think of it, I still haven't sampled the turtle soup, either.

Put Magnolia's Sunday brunch on your "places to take guests from out of town" list. Don't miss the oysters while the weather is cold, and check out the boiled crawfish this spring, if you're a mudbug fan. Oh, and remember Tuesday nights if you're a single woman looking for a middle-aged oil-field-services guy who thinks he's a rock star.

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