Friday, November 13, 2015.
Off They Go. Andrea's New Music.
The Marys drive away at five in the morning. MA's Honda Pilot is jammed with stuff destined for ML's new apartment in Washington, D.C. Despite that, one or the other of them forgot yet another box of something, and they circle back, pick up the added load, and depart again at five-thirty. I didn't even bother to turn the outside lights off between the two departures, so sure was I that this would happen. Everyone in the family is afflicted with this malaise.
I go back to bed, arise for the second time at seven, write a newsletter, and--to my great surprise--finish the Thanksgiving page for this year. Eight restaurants came off, nine added since last November. I think I will have another dozen more new places.
In the middle of the radio show, my producer Christopher Warshauer tells me about the attacks in Paris. I mention that in passing. I'm certain that other media will have it quite well covered.
After signing off, I go to Galatoire's, where is a $200 wine dinner put on by WYES-TV, with travel writer Rick Steves giving a talk. I wonder what he will say about France. The dinner occupies all the space upstairs at Galatoire's. The people I want to see at the dinner are Barbara and Vic Giancola. Barb asked me to donate a set of my books for a charity auction coming up. No problem, except that of getting it from my hands to hers. Mission accomplished.
If there had been an open table at Galatoire's, I would have had dinner there. I considered Arnaud's and Antoine's--I was certainly dressed for them. But I'm not really in the mood.
Instead, for some reason, I wind up at Andrea's. This is because Chef Andrea called my cell during the radio show, probably something about an ad Mary Ann sold him. I stay for a light supper of insalata Caprese and pesto fettuccine. The restaurant in Genoa where the Marys and I had lunch on the cruise this year set an all-time standard for pasta with pesto, and that makes Andrea's version disappointing. He ought to make his pasta thinner, too. Since he makes his own in house, why not? Thin pasta always beats thick in flavor carriage and release.
Andrea's has a new bar pianist who calls himself Uncle Larry. He has played here before, doing funny bits and roping people into singing with him. If you ask him whether he knows this or that song, he always does. If he asks me, I'm game. I do "Misty" and "Chances Are," trying to sound like Johnny Mathis, which is largely about hitting his high notes, which I can. I'm glad my big sister Judy wasn't there, because she's a Mathis fan and would consider what I do to him a sacrilege.
Night one of who knows many nights I will spend at home alone, as Mary Ann "helps" Mary Leigh and Dave move into the lovebirds' new DC apartment. Mary Ann will probably come back just in time for my Manresa retreat next Thursday. Somebody has to take care of Satsuma and Valencia, the two cats who are learning to console me when it's just me and them and the dogs.
Andrea's. Metairie: 3100 19th St. 504-834-8583.
[DIVIDER TYPE=""]
Friday, November 14, 2015.
End Of Grass Season. Mac's For Dinner.
No radio show today, but the dire results of the LSU game means that I will not be pushed off the WWL air many weeks longer.
I think about breakfast and then lunch somewhere, but do neither. I save my hunger through the two hours it takes me to cut the grass. It is getting long, but we've had nighttime temps in the forties lately. The grass cutting season for 2015 has ended.
But the lawn tractor doesn't quite last out the season. The big tire that gives all the traction is going flat, nearly riding on the rims. I finish the essential parts of the three acres under grass and call it a year.
Dinner is a selection from among restaurants that the Marys don't care for as much as I do. Mac's is a cute bistro in downtown Covington, with small dining rooms and a bigger deck. I don't have to sit out there, because MA isn't around to make me.
[caption id="attachment_49611" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Fried oysters at Mac's On Boston.[/caption]
I start with some fried oysters scattered with some kind of buttery sauce and herbs. Then a blue cheese salad with big leaves of a variety of greens. The entree is a filet mignon with grilled asparagus and an herb butter.
[caption id="attachment_49610" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Filet with asparagus at Mac's On Boston.[/caption]
I notice, not for the first time, a problem I have with tenderloins of beef. Because the grain of the tenderloin muscle runs from end to end, when you cut down on a thick filet (from cut end to cut end), you have the toughest part of the steak. Really, it would make more sense to cut across the loin. Which is hard to do at the table. And that would make the steak look much less attractive. Another victory of presentation over flavor and mouthfeel.
I have a slice of carrot cake for dessert. Much, much too sweet, all of that due to the icing, which is laid down far thicker than it needed to be.
Despite all this complaining, this was a fine dinner, and I knew a number of people in the dining room. I am never really lonely, am I?
Mac's On Boston. Covington: 324 E Boston St. 985-892-6550.
[divider type=""]
Sunday, November 15, 2015.
There's Always Zea. The Room Left Behind.
The Brocatos, who organize the choir at St. Jane, are away on a cruise. Someone is playing the organ in the choir loft, but had the door locked. So I do my singing from the center of the nave. The congregation sings "God Bless America" on the way out, motivated by happenings in Paris on Friday the thirteenth.
I catch up on this journal through the morning--specifically, the story of Mary Leigh's moving out of her lifetime home to Washington D.C. The Marys took a load with them Friday, but I wonder what's left. I haven't looked inside ML's bedroom in years, and I have a feeling that it would be a highly miscellaneous pile. What I see is a roomful, the floor visible only as a short passageway through the clutter, coming to a dead end in the middle of the room. I close the door behind me when I leavw. That room will likely look the same for many years.
I pump up the tire on the lawn tractor, in the hopes of finishing a few small unmowed areas. But the air didn't hold for more than about five minutes. So much for that. The machine is around fifteen years old, so I guess a new tire is due. Next year.
[caption id="attachment_38508" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Crabcakes at Zea.[/caption]
To dinner at Zea, not for lack of creativity or options, but because I like the Sunday tomato soup, the house salad, and the spicy little crab cakes. They are calling this Southwestern style, with a wasabi aioli and a very hot red salsa. I thought about whether the subtle flavors of crabmeat might be overwhelmed by all this chile pepper, and decide that the resulting flavor is very enjoyable.
Zea. Covington: 110 Lake Dr. 985-327-0520.
Fried oysters at Mac's On Boston.[/caption]
I start with some fried oysters scattered with some kind of buttery sauce and herbs. Then a blue cheese salad with big leaves of a variety of greens. The entree is a filet mignon with grilled asparagus and an herb butter.
[caption id="attachment_49610" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Filet with asparagus at Mac's On Boston.[/caption]
I notice, not for the first time, a problem I have with tenderloins of beef. Because the grain of the tenderloin muscle runs from end to end, when you cut down on a thick filet (from cut end to cut end), you have the toughest part of the steak. Really, it would make more sense to cut across the loin. Which is hard to do at the table. And that would make the steak look much less attractive. Another victory of presentation over flavor and mouthfeel.
I have a slice of carrot cake for dessert. Much, much too sweet, all of that due to the icing, which is laid down far thicker than it needed to be.
Despite all this complaining, this was a fine dinner, and I knew a number of people in the dining room. I am never really lonely, am I?
Crabcakes at Zea.[/caption]
To dinner at Zea, not for lack of creativity or options, but because I like the Sunday tomato soup, the house salad, and the spicy little crab cakes. They are calling this Southwestern style, with a wasabi aioli and a very hot red salsa. I thought about whether the subtle flavors of crabmeat might be overwhelmed by all this chile pepper, and decide that the resulting flavor is very enjoyable.
