Comings, Goings, And Home.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017. I head into town for the radio show, mainly to take the temperature of the place. Chris Claus, the top man of our eight-radio-station cluster, has announced his retirement. Meanwhile Garland Robinette--who announced his own retirement from his midday talk show on WWL a few weeks ago--has been replaced by Newell Normand, the longtime Sheriff of Jefferson Parish. That's an unusual shift, but quite timely. Crime is the biggest issue around New Orleans, with the possible exceptions of flooding, football, and (ahem) food. My mother's extended family has a lot of Normands in it, going back many generations from Avoyelles Parish. We're probably related. Dinner at Sala, where I dined a couple of weeks. I found it good enough to review sooner than usual. The place is managed by the young generation of the Riccobono family, whose older phalanx owns the Peppermill. While some of the cooking from that connection remains, this is decidedly a contemporary eatery, with a young clientele and the kind of music they like playing a bit too loudly. I play the Millennial game, building a dinner out of appetizers. This starts with panned oysters--a half dozen of them, in hefty size, with a a bread-crumbs-and-herbs coating. It is as good as once could expect. I love this sort of thing, and I dispatch it quickly. Second course was spicy seared tuna, on the verge of being a tataki. It's also generous in portion. I have eaten nearly enough of this meal already, but I keep going. Next item is a quartet of empanadas filled with very tender, moist duck meat. And that about does me in for the night. I sat there thinking about how far these young restaurateurs people have come from their father, mother, uncle and aunt, whose food was very different from what we have here now. And very good in the eating. I am a little less thrilled by the dining areas. The building has been through several other concepts, from hamburgers and barbecue to the Maple Street Café's brand of very light Italian cookery. But the twenty-somethings who form a large percentage of the customer base seem not to care much about that. When I arrive at home, I am surprised to see Mary Ann's car in the driveway. I haven't been in touch with her or Mary Leigh for almost two days. She has gone to bed. She will tell me all about how jet-lagged and otherwise pooped out tomorrow. Sala. West End & Bucktown: 124 Lake Marina Ave. 504-513-2670. Wednesday, August 2, 2017. It's lucky that the Marys left the British Isles and flew home by way of Shannon yesterday. Today, a major meltdown of British Airways' entire system would have made the Marys' progress difficult. Since they are flying standby, this would not have been a pretty scenario. I keep wondering what fun Mary Ann gets from skating over the edge like she does. She is explaining all of it in a diary that will take days to assemble. By now, it can be read here: Click for MA's Travelogue. Even she thinks it's funny, now that it's over. Mary Leigh joined MA's trip at the last minute, when her employer gave her the okay to take a week off. She is back at work now, however, and she calls me to ask whether I am free for dinner. But of course. We converge from our respective CBD offices into the Chophouse. It is beginning to rain. The hostess says that no tables will be available for another hour or so. ML saves the day by having already made a reservation. I start with the very rich but good crab bisque, while ML does salad. We order the twelve-ounce filet mignon and split it. Here's another high-end steak that takes a little more chewing than I expect. ML likes her half, but she has better teeth than I do. Other than that the room is chilly and the music is a little loud, we have a nice evening. I don't get much from ML about the trip. She acted as MA's directional assistant. This was more than a little necessary. On the most difficult night, they didn't get to their reserved hotel until two in the morning. Lucky for them, they get into the habit of driving on the left side of the road reasonably well. Chophouse. CBD: 322 Magazine St. 504-522-7902.