Monday, August 7, 2017. Mary Ann says that I get another dispensation and she will allow herself to be escorted to lunch at New Orleans Food & Spirits, one of our most-visited North Shore restaurants. I stick with my usual red beans and rice with sausage. These guys do that very well. I never get tired of red beans to begin with, but for them to be so consistently good keeps the tradition solid.
The Northlake Performing Arts Society returns to action today. I went there earlier than I needed to be, just to make sure that I don't miss anything. I'm also trying to recruit a female voice for a duet that we will sing next February. That's a long time away, but the director wants to hear a performance before she approves our act. It will have to be perfect by this coming October.
Tuesday, August 8, 2017. Cypress, Through The Rain. It happens about once a month on the radio show. Someone will call in and say that he has found one of the best restaurants in Metairie, one that nobody else knows about.
"You must be talking about Cypress, on Transcontinental just off West Esplanade!" I say. There's a short silence.
"Yes, that's it," the caller says. "How did you know?"
The answer to that last question has nothing to do with my skills as a reporter. It's a mystery. Everybody who dines at Cypress says the same things about the place. How you don't expect food of this caliber to turn up in a hard-to-see café jammed between several other restaurants, a bank, and a few office buildings--all of which create the illusion that a terrific restaurant might not even be here. But there it always is, even better than the last time I sampled it.
This time, for example, I notice that the service staff is much more personable and polished than it was last time. The waiter at my table gave lots of details and personal preferences as we went through the menu and specials.
But this was an easy one to plan. The chef had just made a batch of turtle soup with real turtle meat, not something easily available. No doubt I would have that. A basic little salad comes in between that and the entree. The waiter was very high on the sea scallops. They are big ones, with a buttery sauce and orzo pasta pretending to be rice underneath it all.
There was one minor problem with the scallops. It's one about which many chefs--even some of the very best very good ones--should pay more attention to. Scallops are dredged up from the bottom of the beds in which they congregate. In the process, a fair amount of silt and fine sand get scooped up in the scallops' shells. This can neither be seen nor tasted, but it lends a gritty texture when it gets between your teeth. Fortunately, that can be avoided by rinsing the scallops undercold water before seasoning and cooking. It takes nothing from the bivalve itself, but adds something to the eating experience.
For dessert I have peppermint ice cream. I am told that this comes from Angelo Brocato's, which explains its excellence.
Cypress. Metairie: 4426 Transcontinental. 504-885-6885.