Brennan’s Hitting for the Cycle: Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner in One Day with New Orleans’ First Family of Hospitality
In baseball, hitting for the cycle is a rare day at the plate for an individual. A single. A double. A triple. A home run. Four clean hits that add up to something special.
This trip was our home run.
Harry and I spent a single day moving through three legendary New Orleans dining rooms, each one a Brennan family institution. Breakfast at Brennan’s. Lunch at Mr. B’s Bistro. Dinner at Commander’s Palace.
Add them together and the day itself was the home run.
All three restaurants trace their roots back to Ella Brennan, the Grande Dame of New Orleans. Her nephew, Ralph Brennan, stewarded Brennan’s back to life after an internal family division threatened the future of the landmark. Ralph’s sister, Cindy Brennan, leads Mr. B’s Bistro. Ella’s daughter Ti Adelaide Martin runs Commander’s Palace alongside cousin Lally Brennan, Ralph’s other sister. A true family affair, sustained by intention and pride.
Here is how the day unfolded.
Brennan’s opens at 9:00 a.m. on weekdays. Harry and I managed to miss that detail while confidently walking up to the closed historic carriageway at 8:30.
So we improvised.
We wandered over to the Omni Hotel lobby, poured coffee from the self service setup, and checked email even though we were staying at the Westin.
Presumably, we looked the part.
The Single: Breakfast at Brennan’s
Once seated at Brennan’s, our server John guided us toward the classic breakfast cocktails affectionately known as eye openers. We each ordered the signature Brandy Milk Punch to get things started.
The breakfast opened with Turtle Soup and a Creole Caesar Salad served with cold smoked oyster dressing and Leidenheimer French bread crisps. Harry ordered Eggs Hussarde. I went with Eggs Sardou. We added fried oysters at John’s suggestion, a decision with zero regret.
Our second drink order, much to the bartender’s chagrin, was the Ramos Gin Fizz. Ten minutes of shaking per drink. Solid cardio.
We considered tableside Bananas Foster, but bandwidth matters. Had we shared a single entrée instead of ordering two, we could have pulled it off. You should absolutely order this 1951 original. Don’t make the same mistake we did.
Clean contact. A textbook single.
The Double: Lunch at Mr. B’s Bistro
Of all the Brennan restaurants, Mr. B’s Bistro at the corner of Royal and Iberville is the most quietly confident and the most underrated. We sat at the bar, first come, first served.
In my experience, the bar is where the best advice is served.
Johnny was working that day. What stood out wasn’t just his Sazerac skills, but his honesty. When a tourist next to us ordered the Pasta Jambalaya, Johnny politely saved him from himself. “No. I’m not selling you that today. We have better things on the menu and I want you to come back.”
Whether that was altruism or upselling was irrelevant. It was the right call.
Harry and I downshifted into share mode. Foie Gras topped with local tangerines. Barbecued Shrimp (bib optional) with an extra order of French bread to sop up every last drop of that sauce. Trout Amandine. And a slice of Pecan Pie. The Sazeracs were non-negotiable and not shared.
And for the record, in New Orleans it is pronounced “puh-kon” not “pee-can.”
A well-placed double.
7th Inning Stretch: Intermission
After lunch, we walked Royal Street, one of the great antique districts in the world. Harry nearly bought a silver duck press he has coveted ever since Anthony Bourdain put it on his radar. Rising silver prices saved him from himself.
Between antique shops, art galleries, carriage rides, and Jackson Square street performers, it is easy to spend an entire afternoon on foot working off calories.
At least until happy hour.
Before dinner, we doubled back to the Brennan’s Roost Bar, which is open in between lunch and dinner service. We resisted the crawfish pies with discipline, leaned into Old Fashioneds, and eventually caved on the creole spiced hot nuts because how do you not order the hot nuts? The name sells itself.
We walked down to Preservation Hall to take in the 5:00 p.m. set of Wendell Brunious and the Preservation Hall Legacy Band, then headed back to the hotel to change for dinner. Jackets required.
The Triple: Dinner at Commander’s Palace
An Uber took us uptown along St. Charles Avenue, where Garden District homes were dressed for Mardi Gras in purple, green, and gold. We arrived at the iconic aqua blue Victorian building.
When it comes to hospitality, few do it better than Ti Martin and Lally Brennan. The details matter. Even the placement of salt and pepper shakers on your table signals service flow to the staff. That standard was set by Ella Brennan and remains fiercely protected.
Did we need to eat again? No.
Did we care? Absolutely not.
Our server Zack graciously enabled us. We ordered three appetizers. Shrimp & Tasso Henican. Foie Gras with Ponchatoula strawberries. Escargot Croustade.
Next came the Soups 1-1-1, a demitasse tasting of all three soups. Turtle Soup. Chicken and Sausage Gumbo. Shrimp and Leek soup.
For mains, Harry ordered the Painted Texas Quail that was so stuffed with smoked pork boudin, it was the size of a small goose. I followed our server’s advice and ordered the Abita root beer braised Duroc pork chop. He promised it would be the best pork chop I had ever had.
He was right.
Dessert was inevitable. Bread Pudding Soufflé finished with Commander’s signature warm whiskey sauce and Ponchatoula Strawberry Shortcake with Chantilly cream, both ordered in advance.
After dinner, we walked through the kitchen to the back bar, a speakeasy of sorts where guests can enjoy a digestif while watching the full operation through a viewing window. For anyone who loves food, it is a rare and fascinating perspective.
That meal was a triple. No question.
The Home Run: The Day Itself
The show. The walking. The food. The family. Add it all together and the day itself was the home run.
This is not a challenge. It is an invitation.
If you want to try hitting for the cycle Brennan style, here is my advice.
Bring a wingman. If you do not have one, call Harry. He will fly with you.
Make reservations well in advance.
Bring a jacket and respect the dress codes.
If something looks good, order it. Finish it or do not. Midnight snacks still count.
Some experiences only exist in one place, carried forward by one family.
This is one of them. Bon appetit.
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