There's an excellent 3-bean review of The Green Goddess in today's Times-Picayune, and I was going to link to it and comment on it here. Unfortunately, nola.com (the site that hosts the T-P online) is, as they say, borked. (Does that word mean what I think it means? Hope so.) Watch this space, as I expect they'll get it together eventually. For now, I will only say to my one true love: I told you to quit bothering with that stupid lemon parfait.

Here, after annoying web-based delays, is the Times-Picayune review of The Green Goddess. Three beans, which is what we expected. I believe the food deserves four, but the atmosphere and service aren't there yet, so it's a fair rating. Even better, restaurant critic Brett Anderson appears to get the inspiration behind Chris' cooking: The chef has logged more than enough time in restaurant kitchens to be excused for having lost enthusiasm for the craft. But if anything is clear after eating at The Green Goddess, it is that DeBarr still believes his chosen profession offers a life rich in possibility.

Which is why we're living this life years after I begged Chris to never, ever open another restaurant. Life might be simpler if I'd managed to fall in love with a guy who was content to work on someone else's line forever, but I suspect it would be less interesting. As well, Chris is obviously so much happier and more interested in things since opening the place that I'd have to be a combination of Scrooge, the Grinch, and Selfish the Shellfish* not to support him in his quest. I'm bad, but not that bad.

As for the criticisms, I agree with some, take issue with others. Chris' twice-baked potatoes are great, but only when he personally makes them; nobody else seems able to make them any good at all. The numerous fans of the buttery-delicious Spooky Crepes, though, will be surprised to learn that they "exist primarily to show off the breadth of the kitchen's culinary knowledge." I don't believe Chris engages in that kind of culinary posturing -- he leaves that to the shark-fin-soup guys -- but even if he did, hello, huitlacoche is fucking delicious. It's still a bit alarming to many New Orleans diners raised on traditional ingredients, though (never mind that diners elsewhere are horrified and disgusted by the humble crawfish), and I'm hoping Chris can help ease them into a knowledge of its true nomminess.

At the end of the day, I'm waiting to hear from the folks who predicted that Chris would never be able to make it in the New Orleans restaurant world because he was so burdened by my drugged-out, has-been, sacred-cow-disliking ass. Evan? JoAnn? "Justine" from "Belgium"? Any theories on how the impossible came to pass? ... No, didn't think so. Sucks to be you.

I'm only sorry that Web readers can't see the accompanying photo of Chris juggling sweet potatoes in Exchange Alley. Why did he juggle sweet potatoes for his Serious Chef Portrait? Because he just had to.


*An obnoxious shrimp who was the antihero of several bedtime stories my mother used to tell me, perhaps suggesting an uncharming component of my childhood character.