Heart Stirs, Stock Stews

Seafood and Okra Gumbo. Here in Brooklyn? Sign me up. — Lowerline Po-Boys

I love a good stew. It’s one of those dishes that transcends the human experience. Soup’s stockier cousin. Stews (like soups) are present within every culture. They are made to make use of whatever ingredients are available, stretching them to feed as many mouths and to fill as many bellies as possible. It’s a dish of families and of communities and I have to assume that’s why eating a good one honestly feels like a warm hug. Certainly from your tummy’s perspective, anyhow. There’s a reason why the word hearty always comes up when talking about a good ol’ vat o’ slow-cooked hot slop. And it’s not from the arrhythmia induced by reading that last phrase.

Stews are a one pot dish too. Just toss in whatever and cook it way down on real low heat over several hours.

Cold outside? Got a crowd coming over? Tons of root veggies in the fridge? Looking to do your best impression of a witch stirring a cauldron (eyes of newt not included)? Stew time.

I’ll never say no to a good chili. But that’s the tip of the iceberg. Or is it more the scum on the top of the pot?

What I’m saying really is that there is a dearth of stew (and its thinner cousin, for that matter) in my life and I’m looking to change that. Which brings us to Lowerline Po-Boys.

Lowerline both promises to and delivers on providing a comforting little slice of New Orleans Creole soul here in Brooklyn. With its classic, inviting, dining-joint-around-the-corner aesthetic I had to give the place a visit. Somehow I didn’t give the titular po-boy(s) a try, because I’m a fraud and a rapscallion and it’s an excuse for me to go back at some point (that and the sandwich which I did order, the muffaletta, was too fun of a word for me to not say out loud). But what I did try was their seafood and okra gumbo (another fun word from Louisiana).

Gumbo is one of those dishes that I’d always been meaning to taste (you’re up to bat as soon as I can find you, jambalaya). Really I just need to get out to New Orleans is what this is all telling me. As to be expected, the warm, slightly smoky spoonful of shellfishy delight was just my roommates and I needed now that we are still refrigerator scarce. And it’s served over rice? Seriously, count the days ‘till I make that trip.

To top off our meal, our server surprised us with a sampling of the restaurant’s coffee & chicory panna cotta (unfortunately not pictured here). I already said that I’d be returning didn’t I? Sheesh. Hospitality. Another one of those h words that keeps coming up.

Well played, Brooklyn-based corner of Louisiana. I’ll be seeing you soon.