Diary 1|29|2017: Brunch At Broussard's

Written by Tom Fitzmorris February 01, 2017 17:13 in

Sunday, January 29, 2017. Brunching In The Sunshine.
Mary Ann awakens with a plan from some of our friends: let's all have Sunday brunch at Broussard's. Sounds good to me. We go in separate cars for some reason. En route I listen to a 1950s CBS radio broadcast of an innocent show called "The Couple Next Door." It's entertaining, but in a pathetic sort of way. I'm somewhat of a student of the history of this kind of radio. But it's easy to understand why the advent of television almost completely wiped out radio drama, comedy, and variety shows. They're lame, even by the standards of the 1950s. This one is a sitcom, with the man in the couple being a moronic ninny while his wife comes across as marginally intelligent, but with better sense than her husband. Our table at Broussard's is bigger than I expected. Most of these folks are family of friends from our kids' elementary school days. Everybody here is a joker, and we laugh continually as the eggs and flaming desserts keep on coming. MA and I have liked the brunch at Broussard's since it was inaugurated by the current owners, Creole Culinary Concepts. That outfit started out with small restaurants scattered around the French Quarter. Broussard's is a substantial leap forward. It's a certified Grand Dame restaurant, dating back to 1924. The new owners had a tough time with it at first, but every meal I've taken here in the past two or three years has been excellent. broussards-creolespinachsalad And so is this one. I begin with turtle soup of the kind I like best: dark roux, actual turtle meat, well seasoned. Then Caribbean sunrise, a poached egg dish with crab cakes, black beans, and hollandaise. It looks better than it sounds, but it looks very appetizing. Mary Ann starts by eating the uniquely crafted bread here, which is made to look like blown-up wheat grains. She loves this bread and always eats too much of it, or so she says. Her entree is a a spinach salad with fried oysters. The diet goes on. And then the jazz trio picks me out of the crowd. Would I like to perform a song with them? I thought they'd never ask. My usual sing: Sweet Lorraine. I know too many people at this table for them not to razz me. However, nobody give the jeer: "Keep your day job!" Ha. Ha. Ha. Here's the status of the telephone company matter. My phone is back on, and my internet is restored. But the television part of our package is not there. I call them and they mess with the unit for a little while, before telling me that a tech will come out this week.
Broussard's. French Quarter: 819 Conti. 504-581-3866.