Saturday, October 22, 2016.
Million-Dollar Weather.
If we had weather like what has been in the sky for the past few weeks, we would all be millionaires. I wonder whether anyone has ever figured out the impact on property values and personal income that is caused by hurricanes, floods, heat and humidity.
The three hours of my WWL radio show split my day cleanly in half. I have enough time in the morning to handle most of my Saturday morning errands. Included among these is getting a flu shot from Walgreens. The lady who does this tells me that because I have reached a certain age, that my shot carries extra strength. For that reason, I was asked to have a seat in the waiting area to make sure I don't pass out or something. I notice that the usual mild upper-arm ache that accompanies these shots was strong enough that I refrain from curling a little dumbbell when I take my walk later in the afternoon.
What doesn't get done this morning are breakfast and a care wash. The latter is in dire need. They'll probably have to run me through the washer at least twice when I finally get around to doing the job.
As much as we overpatronized Zea when our family was in its peak dining years, we have neglected it during the past year or so. It's been so long since my last dinner there that absolutely nobody on the staff recognizes me. Not because of that but because of the Mandeville High School homecoming. Zea was full, and I had to wait a few minutes to get a table in the bar.
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Fried green tomatoes under crab cakes @ Zea.[/caption]
The eating begins with the current seasonal crab cake, a standard version set atop thick slices of fried green tomatoes. FGTs, for all their fame, seem to me more a gimmick than something I'd be interested in eating. That was proved long ago, when Jo Ann Clevenger at the Upperline and her brilliant chef Tom Cowman discovered that there was a missing piece in FGTs: flavor. They topped the things with shrimp remoulade, and suddenly they had something. But the enjoyment of shrimp remoulade on fried green tomatoes comes ninety-five percent from the remoulade.
Next, I get the house salad, with its peanut-and-pepper, Asian-inspired dressing. I like it even more when I remember to ask that the shredded cheese be left out.
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Pesto brook trout.[/caption]
The entree is one of Zea's best dishes: pesto-crusted trout. This is not local speckled trout but steelheads from the Mountain Northwest. The pesto is a nearly crunch crust, and delivers a great flavor. I'd rather have local fish, but these things are really quite good.
I have time to call Mary Leigh, who will soon leave Washington D.C. to move back to the New Orleans area, where she wants to pick up where she left off.
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Sunday, October 23, 2016.
Lonely Sundays.
When I was a single guy--a condition that lasted nineteen years from the time I moved out of my parents' home until Mary Ann and I were wedded--I found Sundays oppressively lonely. To prevent my being discomfited by that, I had my Sundays full of work routines that ranged from composing a newspaper ad for a mattress store, writing five daily radio restaurant reports, then composing a weekly column for the CityBusiness newspaper. While working on all that, I listened to the kind of radio programs that come on only once a week--on Sundays. All this kept me busy until two in the morning--my normal bedtime.
Now, I have so much work piled up that I never have to worry about having enough things to do. And what I do first is go to St. Jane's to sing. Then I have breakfast at Mattina Bella, where I get the same egg dish I dreamed up last time. (Panned eggplant on the bottom, topped with slices of Italian sausage and some marinara sauce, surmounted by two poached eggs and drenched with hollandaise.) Owner Vincent Riccobono (not to be confused with the owner of the Peppermill in Metairie, a cousin with precisely the same name) sits down with me to chat. He always comes by to say hello before he returning to the kitchen, but I guess he recognizes a lonely guy when he sees one.
Back home, I see that the grass cutting I did two weeks ago seems not to be done for the year after all, even though the last couple of days have seen temperatures in the forties. I guess I'll put it off till the weekend after next. In between is a weekend with an extended remote broadcast on WWL, a wedding for my former and excellent radio producer Mindy, and an eightieth birthday party for Chef Gunter Press.
I can't say there's not enough going on.
