[title type="h5"]
Saturday, July 18, 2015.
Bosco's.[/title]
Today is the first time in months that Mary Ann doesn't co-host the radio show with me. To make a short story even shorter, management doesn't like our all-knowing wife versus slightly goofy husband shtick. Given what I get away with on the air and how long I have done so, I can't get too worked up about being told to make a change. Mary Ann is not happy, though. Someday, I hope we can do a regular show together. It would help if she cared more about food.
After the program, I attempt to cut the grass, which is growing at a clip (no pun intended) faster than I've ever seen. But after cutting five swaths, the drive belt becomes disengaged. I don't want to fix it while the engine is still hot. And then it rains. So much for that.
The Marys and I dine at Bosco's in TerraBella. That's a new community that has the feeling of a 1920s rural town, with a little post office, businesses stacked up along the main street, and houses built according to a paradigm not much used in suburban American expansion in a long time.
Bosco's is a comfortable, good-looking Italian restaurant that the Marys love. But the days in which we could walk in and grab a table in the under-full dining room are gone. Last time we were here, and again tonight, we had to wait over a half-hour to be seated. (I know. Why don't we get reservations? Because we never decide where to go until it's too late for that.)
We eat normally, beginning with Bosco's excellent house salad. Really, it's so simple that the enjoyability takes one by surprise. The dressing is all but invisible on the greens. What makes it unique is the lemon juice component, used in more volume than one's instincts might dictate.
I get a caprese salad. It's not as luscious as the best versions. A little on the dry side. But this is something that lends itself to being made by the pantry chef early in the evening. The amount of juiciness lost from the tomatoes when that is done is enough to take all the lustiness out of it.
Mary Leigh has her usual chicken piccata, with a side order of pasta with Tony's great, old-style red sauce. For me, it's veal Marsala. I remember this was improbably delicious last time I was here. I recognized the flavor right away, and yes, it does live up to my recollection. I haven't gone down the Marsala or veal roads much in recent times, but I think I may be indulging more often in the near future (not to be confused with "going forward").
Mary Ann picks off everyone else's plates. See, she is in something called a flushing diet. I suspect that the less I know about this, the better.
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Bosco's. Covington: 141 TerraBella Blvd. 985-612-7250. [/title]
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[title type="h5"]
Sunday, July 19, 2015.
Crabby Shack. Hands Under The Mower.[/title]
Mary Ann says that she wants to go to the recently reopened Friends, on the bank of the Tchefuncte River in Madisonville. The place draws a strong crowd with its great view. But the food has never been especially good. Indeed my first memories of it recall a laughably bad kitchen. The place burned down a few years ago, but its rebuilt premises are large and inviting. But it's much too soon for me to go there for review purposes. Instead, we wind up at Crabby Shack, a much smaller restaurant, also in Madisonville.
Crabby Shack (not to be confused with Crabby Jack's, the satellite of Jacques I-Mo's on the other side of the lake) is a casual seafood joint owned by Keith Young of steakhouse fame (and we still haven't left Madisonville). The little place was slow in starting about a year ago, but we have come to love it.
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Thin fried onion rings @ Crabby's Shack[/caption]
I'm there first, and put in an order for onion rings--very good ones, thinly sliced, crisp, and non-oily. (Unless you bring home half a bag of the things and make the mistake of microwaving it. You will never want to do that a second time.)
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Crabby Shack's roast beef poor boy.[/caption]
Mary Ann gets a pan of boiled shrimp and a salad. I want to try Crabby's roast beef poor boy again. The first time, about a year ago, I only moderately liked it. The beef and the gravy were good, but the former was cut into chunks. Some people love it that way, but I'm not one of them. This time the beef is laid down in slices. The gravy is much heavier with roux than last time, and has a fine flavor. But, following what seems to be a law, the amount of gravy is way more than I asked for when I specified "dressed, extra pickles, very easy on the gravy." I don't know why it is, but when I ask for gravy restraint, I seem to get even more than usual. My problem: the sandwich falls apart when the gravy saturates the bread.
I recall how good it is that small denial of my preferences are nearly the worst crosses I have to bear.
When we get home, I get down on the carport floor to figure out why the blades on the lawnmower won't spin. Once I get down there, it all comes back to me. I have fixed this problem before. I do it again, and a few minutes later I'm out there in the tremendous heat, and trimming the full two acres under grass. I get it done just in time to avoid the rain.
[title type="h5"]Crabby's Seafood Shack. Madisonville: 305 Covington. 985-845-2348. [/title]
