Frommer's Review
Irene's is somewhat off the regular tourist dining path, and locals would probably prefer to keep it that way -- it's hard enough getting into one of their favorite neighborhood bistros. In fact, in a constantly uncertain and changing world, waiting upwards of 90 minutes for a table at Irene's is something you can count on. But those same locals feel the French Provincial and Italian food is worth it (you should have seen their faces when Irene's reopened in Oct 2005, wanting to be an oasis in the madness), and you may as well. Once you do enter, after being lured in from a block away by the potent smell of garlic, you will find a dark, cluttered tavern, not unromantic (provided you don't mind a noise level that's a decibel or so above hushed), with ultrafriendly waiters who seem delighted you came and who keep the crowds happy with prompt service.
The menu is heavier on meats and fish than pasta; salads come with a tangy balsamic dressing; and soups can be intriguing combinations, such as the sweet potato-andouille sausage concoction. On a recent visit, we were thrilled by soft-shell-crab pasta, an entirely successful Italian/New Orleans hybrid consisting of a whole fried crustacean atop a bed of pasta with a cream sauce of garlic, crawfish, tomatoes, and wads of whole basil leaves. The panned oysters and grilled shrimp appetizer can be magnificent, and don't forget the pollo rosemarino -- five pieces of chicken marinated, partly cooked, marinated again, and then cooked a final time. Desserts, alas, are the usual dull New Orleans suspects (repeat after me: crème brûlée, bread pudding, chocolate torte . . .). Note: Irene's longtime partner, Tommy, opened up his own place, which is more or less Irene's all over again, with one crucial detail: It takes reservations.
Note: This information was accurate when it was published, but can change without
notice. Please be sure to confirm all rates and details directly with the companies in question before
planning your trip.
