Diary 7|26, 27|2017: Bistro Daisy. Lakehouse. Bump InThe Night.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris August 03, 2017 14:40 in

Wednesday, July 26, 2017. Where Have I Been Since My Last Visit to Bistro Daisy? Tony and Diane Schulte, the owners of Bistro Daisy, were guests on the radio show a few days ago. Which made me wonder why it's been so long since last I fined there. I think chef Anton's cooking is not just original and first-class in terms of both ingredients and techniques, but it's also a bargain, with most entrees in the $20s. The Schultes have a long history of great dining, having run the kitchens first at Peristyle and the La Petite Grocery later. I vacillate between the mussels and the bouillabaisse, and wind up with the first as an appetizer, and the restaurants mushroom-dusted chicken. The latter has been a specialty since the Schultes opened up this shop. Interesting idea: grind up dried exotic mushroom and use them to coat an airline breast of chicken. Then it's cooked with a bit of fat coming from somewhere. It's a signature dish, and among its fans are many Bistro Daisy regulars from since the place opened. I am one of those, and so there before me at entree time is the chicken. Desserts involved a cinnamon ice cream in something, and I ask to be served just that as a finale. I have one glass of wine with all this, which I bring up in case the remainder of today's activities cast suspicion. Bistro Daisy. Uptown 3: Napoleon To Audubon: 5831 Magazine. 504-899-6987. Why I walk around the house without turning at least one good-size light glowing, with the bedroom floor strewn with at least two people's clothing, and perhaps a big dog or two athwart my would-be path is. . .well, not very smart. I zig to avoid one item, then zag on another, and find myself anti-cantilevering down to the floor. Tonight's episode in this series allows me to catch the corner of the bed, but only after my face hits to corner of the wall and my glasses flies across the room. This invokes a problem that should be much more common than it is: if you can't see where your glasses went, it's nearly impossible to find them. All this happens in two or three seconds. It takes longer to find the glasses. I find a flashlight (I always know where that is) and manage after fifteen minutes to see the glasses way back in the corner of the room. How did they get so far? But at least now I can look into the mirror and see that I have a small scrape above my right eyebrow. Doesn't look too bad. But I am still rattled. [divider type=""] Thursday, July 27, 2017. Eat Club @ Lakehouse. Even though we have the usual number of Eat Club diners when we hold a dinner on the North Shore--which is to say about 30 percent no-shows-- the regulars in that number swelled the attendance, and it turned into a good party. For me, anyway. More than the usual number of women attendees found me and gave me kisses and hugs. I continue to notice that I am getting more such attention in recent months than I remember from ther past. It certainly was a fine dinner. We begin with big, sliced sea scallops with fresh green peas, pickled tomatoes, and whatever "soft fresh herbs" are. Then came an interesting variation on arancini. This is an Italian idea, in which rice is held together by red sauce into a ball, with a sorta-semi red sauce on the plate. Chef Marlon stuffed these with some crawfish tails, and the final result this was the dish of the night,I thought. The big player in this menu was a strip sirloin from the Painted Hills Ranch, whatever that brings to the table. What few bites I got fulfilled the need for red meat in a menu like this. But that's as far as it went. The a la carte version of this dish at Lakehouse is much better. What everybody was losing his or (more likely) her mind was the final course, described as dark chocolate pâté. This is loaded with dense chocolate and richness, with blueberry compote to boot. The Eat Clubbers remained in the restaurant longer than usual, but that always happens. Something about looking out into the lake. Lakehouse. Mandeville: 2025 Lakeshore Dr. 985-626-3006.