[title type="h5"]Saturday, February 21, 2015.
Impastato Cellars.
[/title]
It's one of those days when a basketball game pushes my Saturday radio show to late in the afternoon, and expands it by a half-hour. It's another reason for the station to keep me. As far as I know, I'm the only one on either talk outlet who does six full programs a week. Then again, I remember that Maury Magill--a WWL announcer from the 1950s until Katrina, and who passed away a couple of months ago--was on the air doing sports all seven days. Which proves that noody working full-time in radio has any reason to complain about working too hard. Does that qualify as work at all?
When I sign off, I quickly get the Marys interested in dinner at Impastato Cellars. I have business to transact: we have a few loose ends for the Eat Club dinner we will have there on March 18. North Shore diners are notorious for complaining that I don't hold enough dinners there, but then not showing up when I do plan them. The price for this one is uncertain, but after talking with the two Micas (Joe Impastato's wife and his daughter share that pretty name) we define it at $85, including tax, tip, and wines.
[caption id="attachment_40221" align="alignnone" width="480"]
The dining room at Impastato Cellars.[/caption]
There has been some turmoil at Impastato Cellars, which is trying to hire a full-time manager. Like most restaurants, it needs more than one manager to cover all the shifts. Oddly, these lofty-sounding jobs often go begging throughout the restaurant business, even in very well-run operations. Joe asked me to ask you if you want the job. Six-day week. Experience necessary. Call Joe at Impastato's. 504-455-1545.
Impastato Cellars serves us better food than we've had here before. I start with a oyster-artichoke soup. (I think this is the fourth one of those I've had in ten days.) Then fettuccine Alfredo, using Joe's hand-made, hyper-thin noodles that pick up the sauce perfectly. Now a house salad, then redfish with the artichoke, mushroom, and sherry butter sauce.
The Marys get fish with crabmeat and a salad topped with panneed chicken. It was ordered thusly:
ML: "May I have an entree salad with chicken on top?"
Waitress: "Of course. Would you like the chicken pan-fried or grilled?"
ML: "Yes."
[caption id="attachment_24100" align="alignright" width="399"]
Redfish with artichokes and mushrooms. It's named for Joe Impastato's mother, so you know it's good.[/caption]
I almost step into this breach, but decide that these two women can sort it out. A big plate of salad and a second big plate of panneed chicken appear. Delicious, though.
I end my dinner with Brocato's unique torroncino ice cream, always a favorite of mine. It's vanilla studded with thousands of particles of almonds and cinnamon. A wonderful flavor.
[title type="h5"]Impastato Cellars. Madisonville: 240 Highway 22 E. 985-845-4445. [/title][divider type=""]
[title type="h5"]
Sunday, February 22, 2015.
Mama's 103rd. Oysters Return To Zea.[/title]
Today would be the 103rd birthday anniversary for my mother. My sister Lynn finds a couple of old photographs of Mama Aline and send them to me and my other two sisters. None of us had ever seen these before. One of them captures a particularly wistful moment. A young Aline--thirty-something at the oldest--sits on the wood-board gallery of a camp at Little Woods, waving at somebody. Was it us?
Our extended family (the Gremillions, not the Fitzmorrises) often rented a camp for a week or two. We could go swimming in Lake Pontchartrain then, and the water was so clear that you could watch crabs traveling in their unique sideways motility along the two-feet-deep bottom. Uncles, aunts and cousins often shared a camp. Those were halcyon times. Many other camps are visible. Back then, they ran cheek by jowl along the lakefront from the Lakefront Airport all the way past the end of Hayne Boulevard at Paris Road.
I spend the morning writing a web page for the Eat Club dinner at Impastato's. Before the day is out, we already have a dozen and a half people signed up. I guess the price is all right.
The rain that is supposed to wash over us for several days has begun when we go to dinner at Zea. Amazing! That's two meals for which I get to choose the venue. I also have business here: to sample the Asian fried oysters, which return to Zea with the geese every year at this time. These are very large oysters coated with cornmeal and fried, then set in a slightly sweet, peppery brown sauce whose flavors also include sesame oil and rice wine vinegar. I think. What I know for sure is that I love these things, and wish they were on the menu all the time. [divider type=""]
