[title type="h5"]Saturday, January 10, 2015.
Grand Reopening, Bombay Club.[/title]
Mary Ann and I did our third radio show together this afternoon. She likes it more than she thought she would, to the point of actual gratitude. I like it, too. We might get an act out of this yet.
The Bombay Club held a grand reopening tonight, completing a somewhat confusing split. The owners of the Prince Conti Hotel--where the Bombay has been for many years--took over the space and won in court the rights to the Bombay Club name. Meanwhile, the associates and employees of the late Richard Fiske--who owned the business for some fifteen or twenty years--relocated to the Chateau LeMoyne Hotel, a block away. It is now operating under the name Richard Fiske's Martini Bar and Restaurant. (I know I've said all this before in this space, but I figure if I keep doing it one day I'll have it memorized.)
So what we get out of this are two sophisticated dinner clubs with great bars and live music every night. If all goes well, the consciousness that there is such a place in that easily-accessible part of the French Quarter will make the customers of both places think about that kind of evening more often.
Although attendees of the party have to get through a cold rain, we are drawn in by spotlights, and the Bombay was quite full when we arrived. They were playing up the British aspect of the place (that has been part of the decor since it opened) with a trio of bagpipers. That allows me to got off the same joke six or seven times as I go around the room:
Definition of a gentleman: A man who can play the bagpipes, but who doesn't.
That also works for the accordion. (Whose music, actually, I like.)
The food was good. The item I liked best was a big bowl of split pea soup, not only for the sake of another joke (fog in London is often compared with pea soup), but because it was very tasty and welcome on this cold evening.
I meet Bombay chef Nathan Richard. He's from Cajun country, so his name is pronounced "REE-shard." He's also an alumnus of Delgado's culinary program and a few years at Commander's Palace. Lately he's cooked in the Caribbean. He told me that he would put his emphasis on straightforward local dishes, but with verve. If this pea soup is an example, then he's on the right track. Too many dishes are being ignored right now because they're not cool.
In the men's room at the Bombay Club for many years, a pencil drawing of an arresting topless woman hung above the stand-up ceramic facility. It's a portrait of a real person, whose name I can't remember. The drawing made the cut for the new owners' renovation (which wasn't deep anyway). But I noticed that it's a print up there, no longer the real thing. I guess it's acquired some value.
The party ends at eight, the musicians come in, and a normal night of cocktails, jazz, and food begin for the standard customers.
[title type="h5"]Bombay Club. French Quarter: 830 Conti. 504-577-2237. [/title][divider type=""]
[title type="h5"]Sunday, January 11, 2015.
Brunch At Antoine's With Sibs. [/title]
Mary Leigh turns in the most striking cake I've seen her make yet. A five-year-old boy is wild about Star Wars, and his parents asked my daughter whether she could do anything along that theme. Three days later, she has an astounding piece of work completed. The most important aspect is that aside from two wooden sticks running through the center for structural reasons, every bit of the cake is edible--even the light sabers and the spaceships.
The Marys drop the cake off at the home of the customer (who was nothing less than blown away, grinning ear to ear). And then they join me and my side of the family for brunch.
About fifteen years ago, I invited my three sisters and their available families to a lunch at Antoine's during the Christmas season. It was such a natural celebration that we kept on doing it. We moved it to Arnaud's a couple of times, but we keep coming back to Antoine's.
[caption id="attachment_46273" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Crabmeat-stuffed mushrooms with hollandaise.[/caption]
And here we are again, this time for brunch--a new kind of menu for this event. The Christmas season is over. The way the calendar worked this year, we couldn't get everybody together until now. So the Christmas tree and the other decorations that make Antoine's so Christmasy are gone. But we brush past that easily enough. Nine people surround a big round table in the corner. My sisters Judy Howat, Lynn Fleetwood and Karen Terrell give our sibling contingent full attendance. (Our parents are long gone.) Judy's husband Walter and daughter Holly join her. Karen's son Evan is here. The Marys and I hold up our corner.
[caption id="attachment_46271" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Eggs florentine at Antoine's. [/caption]
We start with bloody marys and mimosas good enough to have seconds. Soufflee potatoes, of course. Shrimp remoulade, crabmeat ravigote, and crab cakes get passed around. Half the table eats the likes of trout and soft-shell crabs amandine, while the rest get eggs with a wide variety of underlayers. My regular waiter Charles Carter is his usual sunny self.
It's a happy gathering, and that fact is the happiest thing about it. Judy and Walter--both in their seventies--both had close calls with major health threats this year. "What I got for Christmas was remission!" Walter says, with a laugh and a smile and a knowing nod from Judy.
On much brighter note (literally), this year Judy attended a live performance by Johnny Mathis, who has been her favorite since he first broke onto the music scene in the 1950s. She's still thrilled.
I hope we meet for many more Christmas brunches at Antoine's, and that the next generation does too.
