The Fried Dough Ho

Immediately after tasting the thick, heavy, baked Argentine emapana, my friend took me the real fried version at a local Colombian restaurant, Mi Ama. Like El Gaucho only a few blocks away, Mi Ama was also located in a little strip mall, tucked back in a corner in between a taqueria and a hair salon. Easy to miss, if you don’t know exactly where it is.

Brightly decorated and engaging, but sadly empty for a Friday evening, we had the run of the place as well as the complete attention of the waitress, Loli, who was more than gracious in helping me learn about Colombian empanadas. We ordered some juices; guanabana with milk and maracuyá – passion fruit – which were a bit more filling than I wanted but incredibly tasty. The white board menu was calling to me with too many additional items, both Comida Colombian and Comida Peruvian, but we were on a mission and that mission was fried dough.

Made with an imported corn masa, these empanadas were approximately 2 1/2 inches long and stuffed with a combination of mashed potato, beef, and onion, mashed into a purée. Made with a cornmeal crust and seasoned with cumin and annatto, the resulting fried empanada proved to be rich and flavorful although I found the fine grind of the interior to mute the meat flavors, instead of emphasize them.

While the Argentine empanadas are served with a finely-cut vinegary chimichurri sauce of vinegar, parsley and red pepper, the Colombian accompaniment was a chunkier salsa offering that included scallions and more cilantro than I care for. Here sliced limes were also provided to give the acidic component to cut through the grease of the frying, but I didn’t necessarily find it necessary. Loli was very sweet to bring out a container of the filling so we could see how it was prepared as well as the Bijol powder they use for the seasoning and for the anchiote component.

One of the stalwart breakfast restaurants in the city is Brenda’s Soul Food, known for producing “French Soul Food.” Mostly, in my mind, they specialize in down south, Cajun-inspired cuisine. Only open for breakfast and lunch, I have enjoyed many savory dishes like cheese-laden shrimp-and-grits, andouille omelets, and spicy gumbo. Their house-made biscuits are huge, flaky, and served with a housemade jam in seasonal flavors.

Just like any New Orleans inspired restaurant, Brenda’s offers beignets. But these are not your classic Café du Monde beignets. Brenda’s makes larger, 3″ across pillows of fried dough. While they offer the classic, sugar-dusted plain beignets, what gathers the lines outside Brenda’s are three stuffed beignets — two sweet ones filled with Ghiradelli chocolate and Granny Smith apples with cinnamon honey butter and a spicy, savory version stuffed with seasoned crawfish spiked with cayenne, cheddar cheese, and scallions.

It is possible to order a sampler of all four flavors, but know that the one savory beignet is dusted with cayenne while all three are topped with powdered sugar so there is a little intermixing of sweet with hot. On my last visit, I ordered the savory crawfish beignets and was sadly disappointed. The dough is heavy and thick and gummy. The interior filling is delightful and I would be more than happy to eat a bowl of the redolently rich and heady seafood is so gooey and good, but to get to it, you have to eat through so much chewy, partly raw dough.

A good friend was visiting from New York when I suggested Brenda’s and especially touted the beignets. Instead of the entire sampling, we opted for just the crawfish platter which went back to the kitchen mostly uneaten. We cut them open to reveal the interior and enjoyed scooping out the delectable filling, but the dough was so heavy and chewy. Surprisingly, even sending some back uneaten did not illicit a response from server or the kitchen on how inedible they were. So sad for so much potential considering that everything else they serve is so exceptional. I love Brenda’s for an enticing breakfast for brunch. I’m just sorry what should be a signature dish is so mediocre.