“Dixie Picnic” a delicious delight in Ocean City...

October 2006

Employed by another publication, I had the opportunity to interview the man I consider the finest chef - at least of our era - in southern New Jersey.

That enormously talented individual would be Neil Elsohn, formerly of Cape May’s legendary Water’s Edge restaurant.

And while that grand old operation has now faded into the collective culinary memory of so many, Elsohn is now involved in an Executive Chef capacity with an exciting new food enterprise in downtown Ocean City. That would be Dixie Picnic, the brainchild of Tracey Deschaine and Dean Prescott, of Malvern, Pennsylvania.

Tracey’s background provides the ‘Dixie’ part of the equation, her family tracing their heritage back to the former capital of the Confederacy, Richmond, Virginia.

The ambitious Dixie Picnic concept is to reinvent the treasured, cherished foods of Tracey’s relations, and present them to a new, upscale audience. Casual food where flavor and real value aren’t a casualty of bottom line oriented corporate management.

The bright, sunrise-hued cottage- style structure stands out magnificently from its location, on the eastern edge of Eighth Street, just a few hundred feet from the boardwalk, beach and surf. In the dazzling morning light of mid- September, the property practically glows with a phosphorescent sheen.

No wonder they’ve taken to calling the place “Orange on Eighth.”

Inside, the partners have resuscitated a dilapidated, nearly abandoned construct and turned it into an Oceanside Oasis, including it’s own centrally situated koi pond.

It’s also worth noting that Dixie Picnic is the third new restaurant venture, within a few paces of two others to set up shop of late on Eighth Street in staid old downtown Ocean City. Who’d a thunk it?

While it might be premature to label this stretch of 8th with a Restaurant Row moniker, Dixie Picnic, along with competitors Surf Café (where we’ve had several good meals recently) and Chef June Byrnes’ Red Raider grill, do represent a serious investment in new eateries. This runs counter to the recent trend, in a town where real estate equity has far outstripped commercial worth in the last decade, leading to the demise of many venerable dining establishments.

But it’s Dixie Picnic’s food that has caught this writer’s attention. Serving breakfast, lunch and dinner, the menu is diverse and varied, but speaks with a distinctive drawl.

Like the Smithfield ham, that Deschaine lovingly describes as “the proscuitto of the South,” layered with cheddar on a warm, fresh-baked biscuit for breakfast. Or the novel banana bake crepe, starring warm, sugar- glazed bananas, fresh strawberries and whipped cream in a classic, wafer-thin Frenchstyle pancake.

The lunch menu equally impresses, reprising the Smithfield ham and cheddar combo, this time with Boston lettuce and mayo on housebaked bread.

And the Nutty Chicken Salad, which appropriately features another favorite ingredient of the American South, pecans (that’s not pronounced pee-kahn, Yankee!) and grapes on 7- grain bread.

Dinner offerings include housesmoked Georgia baby back ribs, Applewood-smoked chicken breast and a South Philly Italian delicacy, porchetta, slow roasted, seasoned pork loin.

Deschaines dessert menu offers some provocative selections as well: mint julep brownies, strawberry sponge cake rolls, frozen hot chocolate, shortbread, and an extensive selection of housemade sorbets, creams and gelato.

Flavors like mint chocolate flake gelato, cider caramel swirl sorbet, Meyer lemon sorbet, and mint julep brownie chunk ice cream demonstrate their commitment to create unique, outof- the-ordinary products.

The most distinctive among these might be Deschaine’s family specialty, Aunt Bertha’s Upcakes, explained as “cupcakes iced upside-down on the top and sides…enough icing for every bite!”

Having Elsohn’s creative, whimsical touch in the kitchen also means we can expect sizzling soups and tantalizing specials derived from the region’s finest seasonal products. Just don’t ask him for anything pumpkinrelated, particularly if cutlery items should happen to be nearby.

Opening on Friday, September 29th, Dixie Picnic is at 819 8th Street in Ocean City.

A fond farewell...

The latter half of my column is dedicated to a close friend of mine who is pursuing what I consider to be one of the most noble and brave courses of action I’ve ever encountered.

Longtime Margate resident Andrew Neustadter, a 1984 graduate of Atlantic City High School, moved to Israel early in September.

Andy, as his friends know him, is an affable, athletic, outdoorsy guy. In another era one might have called him “a real man’s man.” An expert shot and avid waterman, like myself a devotee of the style of wooden vessel known as the Jersey Shore Garvey, Andy knows the waters of our region’s back bays almost as well as his boating mentor, the late Downbeach author/world traveler, and our mutual comrade, Christopher Cook Gilmore.

Additionally, he hails from an accomplished family bloodline. His father, Robert “Chickie” Neustadter, is a renowned, eminently respected Superior Court judge, still working despite being in his late 70’s. A prominent local trial attorney once described him to me with the ultimate compliment he could manage regarding anyone serving on the bench by enthusing “Chickie is a right- on guy.” His son, my friend Andrew, decided earlier this year to sell his Margate home, lock, stock and barrel, and relocate permanently to Israel.

This journey is largely spiritual; he deeply desires to create a proper, Orthodox Hebrew home for himself, in the land of his tradition and origins. It is a daring, perhaps even heroic act of faith.

But moving to the Middle East, right now?

That’s chutzpah, baby, bigtime chutzpah.

So, this month I pay tribute to my friend Andrew and bid him a fond fare-thee-well.

Ripple, in still water
When there is no pebble tossed,
nor wind to blow
Reach out your hand,
if your cup be empty
If your cup is full, may it be again
Let it be known, there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of
men
There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn, and the dark of
night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone -
Ripple, Hunter/ Garcia, Grateful
Dead

Frank Gabriel may be reached at Thaibasil@AOL.com