A Weekend in Old Mandeville

Old Mandeville, New Lens

From Bikes to Boats, Two Southshore Residents Spend Their First Weekend in Old Mandeville

Story and photos by Alexandra Kennon

Every time I cross the Causeway, I’m surprised by how quickly the drive goes. On this occasion, it helped that my boyfriend Sam had taken on the crucial role of playlist curator. He filled the brief trip with a selection of Northshore all-stars neither of us had previously listened to, despite our mutual affinity for local music and statuses as long-ish-time Southshore residents. Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown’s synthesis of blues, country, and jazz; 12 Stones’ angsty grunge-rock; and Christian Serpas & Ghost Town’s classic country twang each surprised us with the sheer variety of genres emerging from Mandeville and the surrounding towns. Between the music and excited conversation (“See that sailboat out there? That’ll be us tomorrow!”), when we drove up to de la Bleau B&B in Old Mandeville it felt impossible that forty minutes had already passed since we left Mid-City.

Raised on cement pillars and painted a bright teal (think Commander’s Palace, but more tropical), de la Bleau seemed to beckon us inside, saying “Relax: you’re on vacation now. C’mon in.” We carried our bags up the stairs and entered the front door into an expansive modern kitchen that opened to a living/dining room; all sparklingly clean and filled abundantly with natural light. Distinctive décor touches abounded in the contemporary spaces—a beautiful wood carving of dolphins and a sea turtle leaping from waves stood as tall as a person near the front door, and the common areas and suites all featured a collection of nautically-themed artwork. We took mental note of the wet bar—filled with beer, sodas, and bottled waters for the taking—and headed upstairs to the Bleau Room, where we found a queensized bed, WiFi, and a sleek bathroom with a walk-in shower. But my favorite amenity was the sunlight-drenched window seat looking out over Lake Pontchartrain.

"St. Tammany's Manager of Marketing and Public Relations Anna Strider aboard Captain Rick Delaune's boat, the Windward Passage."

Alexandra Kennon

We briefly settled in before venturing back out for the most obvious-yetdelightful activity Old Mandeville has to offer: a stroll along the Lake. On our way out we met our hosts, owners of de la Bleau Cindy and Clyde—a smiling, polo-shirt-clad couple who appeared as if they are perpetually on vacation, despite running the B&B consummately. After a brief and pleasant chat, we ducked out into the warm yet breezy late afternoon, heading toward the water.

There, we joined joggers with their pups, a teenaged couple holding hands, one guy strumming an acoustic guitar and singing to no one in particular. The smattering of locals enjoying the beauty of Lake Pontchartrain made a potentially mundane experience feel special, communal. We took a break to rock back and forth on one of the swinging benches facing the water before walking down to the small sandy beach, then headed back toward de la Bleau to change for dinner.

We got spiffed up, more for ourselves in excitement to be embarking on an actual dinner date than in accordance with the restaurant’s dress code, which is relatively casual. Recently vaccinated after beginning our relationship in the midst of the pandemic, dining at restaurants still feels somewhat like an indulgent novelty.

To maximize the long-missed night out experience, we started our stroll to dinner by first popping into a local watering hole, The Barley Oak. Styled like an English pub with an edge of punk (artwork on skateboards adorns the deep red-trimmed and dark wood-paneled walls, and early 2000s pop-punk music fills the space), the balcony overlooking the water is what drew us in, but the deep leather couches and expansive international beer list kept us there for a while. Sam opted for a hefeweizen while I sipped a Louisiana gose, and we admired the several dogs who trotted by with their humans. Knowing we had a fine dinner ahead of us, we managed to resist the soft pretzels, though I hear they are fantastic.

A worthy choice for our first night out in a year, our dinner destination, Pat’s Rest Awhile, was perhaps the most talked about spot in Mandeville at the time, having just been opened in January by one of the Northshore’s most trusted master chefs. Chef Pat Gallagher’s newest development on the water is made up of three historic buildings, whose ambitious restorations have generated a buzz on their own accord. The restaurant’s main building was first completed as the fashionable Frapart Hotel in 1890. But the building spent the majority of the twentieth century as the Rest Awhile, a charity retreat for underprivileged single mothers, their children, and orphans from New Orleans. Two smaller cottages were also moved in and elevated to supplement the space of the main building; an expansive outdoor deck with seating and an oyster bar connects the structures. We joined St. Tammany’s Vice President of Communications, Marketing, and Public Relations Christina Cooper and her husband Tim at a picnic-style table on the raised deck overlooking Lake Pontchartrain.

The offerings at Pat’s Rest Awhile are familiar and well-executed. This is not a menu that includes much in the way of surprises, because it doesn’t need to: Chef Gallagher knows what his guests like, and he and his team excel at the local staples. More complex, international, and modern offerings can be found elsewhere in Mandeville these days, anyway (and I’ll get to some). But when you’re craving the classics—gulf fish amandine, a double cut pork chop in a pecan bourbon glaze, a fried seafood platter, or a nice steak masterfully prepared and served in a historic, waterfront setting—look no further than Pat’s Rest Awhile.

A sucker for an amandine, that’s what I had, and the dish—the fresh grilled fish topped generously with lumped crabmeat, toasted almonds, and brown butter sauce—stood up easily to any served at a New Orleans Grand Dame, I’d wager. Though, I must admit to a tinge of order-envy after tasting Christina’s cedar plank redfish with a citrus horseradish crust, which included impossibly-thin fried potato strings as a contrast to the supple seafood. I recommend not skipping chargrilled oysters to start—something about dining lakeside mandates oysters on the half shell. On a busy Saturday night, we found Chef Gallagher slinging said oysters on the grill behind the bar, his hands very much on the day-to-day operations of his youngest venture. He only took a couple of brief moments to, well, rest a while and tell us about the complex’s storied history before returning to slathering garlic butter onto bivalves.

Gulf fish amandine at Pat's Rest Awhile

Alexandra Kennon

For a small community, Mandeville isn’t lacking in tasteful nightlife destinations, so after dinner we took a walk (I truthfully think we only used the car once the entire stay, continually delighted by everything’s close proximity), to a little neighborhood wine shop called the The Grapeful Ape, which offers a charming adjacent bar called the Ape Cave á Vin. A smattering of well-dressed locals chattered animatedly along the dimly-lit bar; busts of regal, crowned gorillas looked down at them from the shelves behind it. The wine list was of course quite lengthy, so contrarians we are, we ordered whiskey cocktails. Each was smooth, strong, and well-balanced; serving as a nightcap in the truest sense.

Beds are great, but it’s always the second “B” in “B&B” that really excites me. Candied bacon, thick creamy grits, eggs any way we liked (we went with scrambled for the sake of adding onions, peppers, and cheese), fresh fruit, and banana walnut pancakes enjoyed in the morning sunshine on the veranda made for a lovely opening to our Saturday. Another thing we missed during the throws of the pandemic was making new friends, so we were delighted when fellow de la Bleau guest Pat from Covington accepted our invitation to join us. She was in town to celebrate her birthday with lunch at Pat’s Rest Awhile (I meant it when I said the restaurant was the current talk of the Northshore).

After breakfast we headed to Brooks’ Bike Shop (again, only a brief walk from de la Bleau and the Lakefront), where we were directed to choose any cruisers we liked from the extensive and colorful selection parked on the lawn in front. I grabbed a sunshine yellow one; Sam went for a royal blue with a large basket. Old Mandeville is easy to navigate on foot, but equipped with a bicycle, anything is possible. For starters we tackled the Old Mandeville Trailhead Market, which is the place to be on a Saturday morning. Some freshly-made salsa verde, award-winning boudin, local Flamjeaux Coffee, Girl Scout cookies, and several spirited conversations with local vendors later; we were more than equipped for a ride on the Tammany Trace.

My favorite thing about the Tammany Trace is that it’s a bit of a real life “choose your own adventure”. Once a route of the Illinois Central Railroad, the trace was purchased by the St. Tammany government and paved in the 1990s. Today it can be used for hiking, biking, or any number of non-motorized activities. Are you a serious cyclist with plans to power pedal thirty-one miles to Slidell? Or, are you a leisurely weekend traveler weighed down by a breakfast of grits and a bike basket full of Girl Scout cookies? Either way, a cruise through the greenery and swamps along the Trace is an excellent call for a bit of natural rejuvenation and exercise. Falling into the latter category, we opted for a relaxed couple of miles from the Trailhead into Fontainebleau State Park and were back in time for lunch.

Breakfast at de la Bleau Bnb

Alexandra Kennon

In the market for something light-ish after kicking the day off with grits and pancakes, we pointed our wheels toward the restaurant across the street from the Trailhead, with its colorful, funky sign and outdoor picnic tables: Rieger’s on the Trace. Sarah and Billy Rieger opened the restaurant on January 1, 2020 (and at 2020 Woodrow Street, for a dose of serendipity). After a decade of working under Chef Frank Brigtsen in New Orleans, Billy had moved to Victoria in British Columbia, where in 2013 he and Sarah opened a food truck called A Streetcar Named New Orleans, serving classic Creole and Cajun dishes.

The Riegers made their way to Louisiana in 2015 and the Northshore in 2019. After looking at several potential locations that didn’t quite suit the family atmosphere they longed to cultivate, the Riegers had all but given up. “And then we were building our house two blocks from here when this place came up on the market,” Sarah said. “We wanted what we wanted, and this is exactly it.” The building housing Rieger’s was formerly a sno-ball stand, equipped with a large kitchen and takeout window, but no seating for customers. The couple added a deck, outdoor seating, and a kids’ play area, which came in handy when just ten weeks after opening, COVID struck and ground indoor dining to a halt. “It was the best of the worst situation,” Sarah told me from the perspective of our thankfully more normal Saturday as kids ran past her playing.

Between Billy’s training in New Orleans cuisine and the couple’s mutual affinity for international flavors, the menu is creative, bright, and fresh. Offerings include red bean falafels, roast beef poboys available dressed “banh mi style,” charred broccoli with General Tso’s sauce and sesame seeds, and a good ol’ fried pork chop sandwich with Crystal hot sauce on Bunny bread. They also serve Creole Creamery ice cream in homemade waffle cones (with complimentary whipped cream and a cherry—they have kids, and know what’s up). We opted to share a fried catfish sandwich with the cabbage salad. While the phrase “cabbage salad” might sound like a bore, I assure you this one was delightfully dynamic—weeks later I can still recall the sharp funk of the pecorino contrasting the tartness of the Granny Smith apples, all tied together in the bright lemon vinaigrette; light and crunchy. The brioche bun struggled to contain the massive catfish fillet, which was fried crisp enough for the thoroughly-seasoned breading to practically shatter. My only regret in choosing Rieger’s was that we didn’t arrive hungrier.

After lunch we popped into a few of the local boutiques and antique shops in colorful cottages along Girod Street—I emerged victorious from Gran’s Attic Thrift Shoppe with an original Cornflower patterned Corningware dish for five bucks. Then we took a ride along the lake before returning the bikes to Brooks’. Our afternoon itinerary called for a different mode of transportation entirely, one neither of us had ever experienced: a sailboat.

The fried catfish sandwich special at Rieger's on the Trace

Alexandra Kennon

We headed to the marina to meet Captain Rick Delaune of Delaune Yacht Brokerage & Sailing Charters, and St. Tammany’s Manager of Marketing and Public Relations Anna Strider, who had never been sailing before, either, and happily joined us bearing local gourmet snacks and craft beer. Anna, Sam, and I excitedly clambered aboard Delaune’s boat, majestically named Windward Passage. Armed with as much charisma and humor as sailing experience, Delaune teased us as we shoved off by singing the line of the Gilligan’s Island theme “A threeee ho-uuuur touuuur,” because that’s what we were in for—well, not the shipwrecking, I hoped.

Aboard the Windward Passage, the vastness of the Pontchartrain became so much more evident, and the forty-two foot boat (on which Delaune can host up to six passengers) was just small enough to really amp up the sense of adventure. Sailing, by nature, is somewhat involved, which allowed each of us to participate as much as we chose. We didn’t get very far out before Delaune turned the helm over to Anna so he could raise the sail. Despite our complete rookie statuses, Delaune treated us like seasoned fellow crew members: “You’re a natural!” He told Anna as she avoided a crab trap. He wasn’t wrong—I was up next, and she made it look easier than it was. “The boat weighs 24,000 pounds, so it’s moving 24,000 pounds of water out of the way,” Delaune explained casually as Anna steered. “What happens is the bow wave, we call it, has a tendency to make the boat want to careen off of its own bow wave up into the wind. So Anna is having to fight it a little bit, put a little rudder on it, to make it stay on a straight course.”

It turns out steering a sailboat requires a certain finesse which I decidedly lack. Still, I must admit that gripping the helm, bow pointed out toward the Causeway, I felt a rush of power and liberation that doesn’t typically accompany anything legal.

For a first sailing experience, we couldn’t have asked for a better captain. Delaune’s demeanor from the beginning was easygoing yet energetic—it was more like sailing with a friend, or a really fun uncle, than a stranger. He was more than happy to educate us in nautical vocabulary, Coast Guard regulations, and sailing techniques when asked without being remotely patronizing, and while keeping the experience fun. “I’ve been in Mandeville since the 1980s, and I’ve been on vacation since the 1980s,” he told us, the gratitude evident in his voice. “[This business] has been a fabulous way to meet people from all over the world. I love it. I just love it.”

A couple of hours into the sail, the sun began to set. Being on a sailboat on the lake is already as lovely as it gets, but as the peachy-golden light began to reflect off the waves—picturesque doesn’t cover it, because pictures can’t capture that degree of natural beauty. Utterly windblown and the tiniest bit sunburned, I handed the helm over to Sam for his turn as Honorary Captain while Anna and I munched on tasty local pimento cheese spread, buffalo chicken dip, and shrimp cocktail from craft grocer Girod Street Market and Deli. We admired the Mandeville skyline of trees and raised historic buildings, like a little doll set in the distance. The colors in the sky seemed to peak in their vibrancy just before we pulled back into the bay, darkening with the close of our “three hour tour”.

Alexandra Kennon

For dinner we decided to try another highly-recommended spot: Duman Artisan Kitchen. Headed by another husband and wife team, this is Bulent and Ozgur (Ozzy) Duman’s third pizza restaurant together, opened in 2016. Though the couple has mastered woodfired pizzas and handmade pastas, they have other plans for the restaurant moving forward that are closer to their hearts, as well as their roots. In May 2021, they’re closing Duman Artisan Kitchen with plans to do a light remodel and reopen mid-May as a Turkishstyle meze house, or meyhane. “In Turkish culture, what we do is similar to Louisiana people: most of our activities are gathering around the table, eating and drinking, but we do it for hours,” Ozzy explained with a smile. “That’s why we have many small plates, or mezes. We want to spend as much time together as possible. You sit and slowly drink, slowly eat, and you can sometimes be there until midnight or the wee hours of the morning. So that’s sort of what we want to do.”

Even before the transition, we were impressed by the carefully-curated cocktail list and extensive selection of appetizers. I ordered the flaming fried cheese: a block of mozzarella fried and then doused in cognac and set ablaze table-side, before being cooled with a dressing of lemon juice and chopped parsley. Wanting to try the Italian fare before it was phased out, we ordered a prosciutto pizza with arugula and goat cheese, and handmade pappardelle with garlic shrimp, homemade creamy pesto sauce, marinated artichoke hearts, capers, and shaved parmesan. Each was truly exceptional: the pizza crust light and fluffy with a crispy char on the bottom, the sauces rich yet fresh, the pasta delicate and fine, each topping evidently selected and prepared with careful intent.

In anticipation of their shift to small plates, Ozzy sweetly sent us some favorites that were already hiding in plain sight on the appetizer menu: oven-roasted garlic cloves in a house sun-dried tomato balsamic, homemade hummus, whipped goat cheese garnished with a truffle balsamic. Each was more flavorful than the next, and it was easy to imagine passing a long evening sipping, laughing, and volleying triangles of freshly-baked pita bread between friends.

I trust that Duman’s move to a more Turkish style and cuisine will do well in Mandeville. As Ozzy told us: “We’ve been here for a while now, and we got to know the people, the city itself. We have such a great community here, and I think they will receive it really, really well, because there’s nothing like it here.” The sense of community is strong in Mandeville. It’s a town of people who take care of each other, show out-of-towners a damn good time, and appreciate their history while also embracing delicious foods and experiences they might not have encountered before. And from a Southshore perspective, that’s more than worth a drive across the Causeway.

For more information on how to make the most of a visit to Old Mandeville, visit louisiananorthshore.com Disclaimer: This trip was hosted by the St. Tammany Parish Tourist Commission, though the thoughts, opinions, and ramblings of the writer are entirely her own and formed independently of this fact.