Little Dom's Gets Its Fat Tuesday On

You've still got time tonight to get down there, so I wanted to post this quick. As you do want get there. Little Dom's Seafood in Carpinteria is throwing a Mardi Gras Feast that started Sunday and runs through tonight, Fat Tuesday itself. Little Dom's menu already nods a lot to New Orleans, as that's where chef Brandon Boudet was raised. (Just consider his last name and you know he's legit.) On any given night you might order up a chilled Creole boiled shrimp or a bowl of seafood gumbo (that's all pescatarian, down to its stock). 

But for these few truly special days, you get a bunch more options, all provided in slightly smaller portions so you can eat widely without becoming too wide yourself. You definitely want to accelerate into the evening with a classic Sazerac, that absinthe rinse tickling your nose first, but then the sweetened rye, Peychaud's bitters, and squeeze of lemon blend and please. It transports you right to the Big Easy (after all, it's the city that holds Tales of the Cocktail every year).

While personally nothing can ever top sucking down BBQ oysters at Hog Island Oysters right alongside the Tomales Bay from which they were harvested, the ones offered by Little Dom's are a close second. Piping hot hitting the table, they carry just enough of the grill's smoky flavor but not so much to dominate. And then they bathe in luxurious liquor: not just butter but perfectly parceled out amounts of lemon juice, garlic, and Parmesan, and then a double hit of slow-growth warmth--paprika and hot sauce. The balance is beguiling, and you will drink every last drop and be sad for any drip that is left on the paper basket they show up at the table inside.

Clockwise in this photo from top left is a mug of chicken and andouille gumbo, a fried oyster mushroom po' boy, and crawfish Monica. (Note, these dishes, plus the oysters, three for both of us, and the two desserts was a perfectly filling dinner, even at smaller portions than the regular menu.) That gumbo was powered by a roux darker than an evil man's soul (I'm not going to name any names, plus then the metaphor gets too unappealing). You spelunk into the depths of its flavor. The chicken thigh meat is tender and pulled into tasty bits and then the andouille offers its spicy porkiness. It took me halfway through to find the little ball of rice hiding in the darkness. The po' boy's vegan, btw, right down to its lively aioli. The crispy, crunchy fry on the mushrooms subs perfectly for any meatiness even the most devoted carnivore might hope for. Even the roll was what you wanted--firm, tasty, willing to be a brilliant supporting, uh, roll (think the M. Emmet Walsh of breads). Then the Monica pasta was new to me, if hailed as a classic (Chef Pierre Hilzim named it after his wife). Evidently Monica is a bit creamy with a kick, and then there's plenty of crawfish tails for that great shrimp-and-lobster-had-a-delicious-baby taste. As a pasta dish, it's not too heavy, either. Yep, with cream. Promise.

Dessert closed with classics. The beignets, like the oysters, hit the table hot, not just warm. (So yes, things are cooked to order.) Plentifully powdered, they somehow didn't do the typical beignet blow up all its sugary dust trick, either. Piquant raspberry sauce added a lovely fruity note, and somehow we didn't do shots with what was left after the beignets were gone. King Cake of course is the essential culmination cake of carnival season. Cinnamon swirl spices the open-aired dough, and then there's plenty of colored sugar festively sprinkled atop. There's a chance you might find a plastic baby Jesu in your piece (your server will even warn you), but ours was untouched by infant holiness. Here's hoping we have luck and prosperity for the next year anyway. (Brief sigh for the mess our world is currently in.)

Overall, the Mardi Gras Feast at Little Dom's proved the homey and warm spot is firing on al cylinders. Staff was attentive, polite, funny, not too intrusive but there when you needed them. The booths in the barroom that replaced Sly's (and, yes, heavy sigh for Sly's too) hightops are inviting and classic, especially with their marble tabletops. It's a place where one instantly wants to hang. Just ask the Mardi Gras beads dangling from one wall's mounted marlin.