[title type="h5"]Wednesday, February 18, 2015.
Return To Normal For Everybody.[/title]
Mardi Gras is over, bringing to a close the continuous party that set in on Halloween and progressed with no letup through Thanksgiving, Chanukah, Christmas, New Year's, and Carnival. And--in my little world--Mary Ann's birthday and mine, our anniversary, and Jude's wedding. If any resolutions were made any time during those 100 days, this is the last chance to get started on them.
Mary Ann, however, goes straight from getting back from California to imminent travel plans involving Germany, the Czech Republic, and who knows where else. She leaves in--eight days? She has an interesting challenge: at this moment, she has no valid passport. I'll bet she doesn't get one until the day she and Mary Leigh board the plane.
Further urgency is given to all matters of life by Mary Ann's need to be marked with ashes. I would have gone, too, but I refuse to arrive for Mass during communion. MA is never--never!--on time for church services. It seems to be part of her faith.
The three of us then adjourn to the Acme Oyster House for the seafood required by our religion. What a penance to have raw oysters, grilled oysters, gumbo, and a fried oyster poor boy. Ash Wednesday is one of those days when one is supposed to abstain from meat. Can do.[divider type=""]
[title type="h5"]Thursday, February 19, 2015.
Making Good At Arnaud's.[/title]
Two weeks ago, we were on our way to Arnaud's to celebrate my birthday. But the unexpected appearance of parades made it impossible to maneuver to the restaurant. Today, we make up for that. I am not going just for the joy of eating at Arnaud's, but because I am arranging a dinner there for a large group of pharmacists coming to town in May. I pass the info to Katie Casbarian, who says she will take care of everything.
It's another cold, wet night. Arnaud's has the finest insulation against the chill in our drafty city. You enter through two sets of French doors, then walk a rod down a passageway to a spot where you turn left to enter the French 75 Bar, or face forward to report your presence to the hostess, or turn right to enter the main dining room, into which no cold blasts can penetrate. Especially not at our table in the corner.
Mary Ann is not a fan of the grande dame restaurants that I love. But we agree completely on the beauty of Arnaud's. It's not just an antique, but a well-cared-for, brilliantly designed collection of dining spaces, all of which more resemble the restaurants of Europe than those of our European city. Even Mary Leigh--who may have the most discriminating eye for great design in our family--says that she loves the place.
We have a modest meal. MA begins with shrimp Arnaud (remoulade, as good as it gets). ML has chicken-andouille gumbo, a favorite dish of hers. She says it's one of the best she's had. I hardly ever order that--Arnaud's has so many good soups that I will ignore at least one of them long-term--but I must say she is right. It's even better than the turtle soup before me.
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Trout amandine.[/caption]
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Beet salad at Arnaud's.[/caption]
Then MA has trout amandine while ML lightens up with a very unusual salad, covered with a vortex of fresh beets rendered into ribbons. I pack away a double order of oysters Arnaud. That's an assortment of five baked oysters on the shells, each with a different and wonderful sauce. I always try to name them to impress the waiter. I identified the Rockefellers and Suzettes easily (one is green, the other dark orange), and the eggplant-dominant oysters Ohan. But I get the Bienvilles and the Kathryns switched. Oh, well. Eating ten of these oysters makes for a very good and ample entree. They are pretty enough that the girls pick at the sauces. The oysters themselves are beyond the pale for them.
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Double order of oysters Arnaud.[/caption]
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Baked Alaska a la Arnaud's.[/caption]
Chef Tommy DiGiovanni celebrates my birthday with something new: a very pretty take on baked Alaska. The meringue is fluted as it covers the minty ice cream at its center. I don't think Antoine's has anything to worry about--this meringue is a little gummy. I think it's still under development. Nevertheless, I am flattered that they give me this unique chance to blow out my candle.
[title type="h5"]Arnaud's. French Quarter: 813 Bienville. 504-523-5433.[/title]
