Thursday, October 6, 2016
Dress Rehearsal. Mangrove Snapper Amandine @ Clark's And Mark's. I Mean. . .
The first time I ever went to a real live play in a real theater was during my freshman year at Jesuit. The Philelectic Society was the name of the organization for would-be actors. It had a secondary unit--sort of like a junior varsity of thespians--referred to as "the Junior Phils." That troupe put on a comedy that I recall as being hilarious, with most of the laughs coming from the gag line, "Maybe it was something that he ate." The name of the play was "Dress Reversal." (I am astonished that I remember all this, from 1964.)
I think about that play every time I'm in a dress rehearsal, as I am tonight. NPAS has a steadfast law about dress rehearsal: you don't have to wear the costume du jour, as the name seems to imply. But if you don't show up, even if your excuse is a good one, you're out of the show.
I broadcast the radio from home so I can be there for dress reversal tonight. That also opens up time for lunch. The frequency with which MA and I take the midday meal at Forks and Corks must make it our favorite lunch place. The well-hidden bistro has a cooking style somewhere between that of a good casual café and an ambitious Creole-French bistro. A comparison with Galatoire's is not completely uncalled for.
I begin with a salad of spinach, pecans, goat cheese, and tomatoes. My entree is a generous filet of mangrove snapper. That's a fish that live as all along the Eastern American coast, from New England through the Caribbean and Gulf, down to South America. It is not as good as red snapper, but it is very good to eat anyway. In texture and flavor it reminds me of small speckled trout. Since speckled trout is almost impossible for restaurants to find right now this is a good resource.
The chef sends the mangrove to me with the full, buttery amandine treatment. MA has more or less the same salad that I had, with fried oysters added. Spinach and oysters are being called by her Diet Bible Of The Moment: Grain Brain. I have no comment about its proscriptions at this time.
Forks & Corks. Covington: 141 TerraBella Blvd. 985-273-3663.
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Friday, October 7, 2016.
Opening Night.
At the rehearsal we run through most of our program of country music. Paula, Mike and I run our trio treatment of "Tumbling Tumbleweeds." For once, I get the final note right. Spouses hanging around the theater tell me things like, "I didn't know you sing so well!" Well, I don't always. I hope I hear that kind of comment when we actually do the show tomorrow.
Today is my little sister Lynn's birthday. She shared a suite with me on the Eat Club cruise to New England and Canada that just ended. Aside from her nagging me that I need to get a hearing aid, she was a great companion who helped me get through the stresses of leading the two-week event, and all the goofy complications. Thanks, Lu-lu!
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Saturday, October 8, 2016.
A Three-Hour Cruise Remediation.
The day began beautifully, and then I had to go and ruin it all by leveling a minor criticism at my wife Mary Ann for something insignificant concerning the hug she gave me this morning. When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut most of the time?
That particular issue came out while we had breakfast. During which I created a new egg dish for Mattina Bella. Already on their menu are poached eggs atop fried eggplant rectangles with grilled ham in between. I ask them to leave the ham off and add a link of Italian sausage sliced end to end in the ham's place. Then spoon some marinara sauce around the eggs and eggplant. This may sound like a big load for friend Benedict to carry, but (if I say so myself) it is seriously delicious. It helps that Vincent Riccobono buys excellent Italian sausage and makes fine marinara and hollandaise. I will ask them to add it to the menu and name it after me. Am I a ham? Yes. Which is probably why I'm not as wealthy as MA wishes I am.
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Most of the way to the creation of a new egg dish with eggplant, marinara sauce, hollandaise and poached eggs.[/caption]
It's a busy weekend. I run my Saturday errands--which have not been addressed for three weeks, what with the cruise and everything. I buy some stuff that will allegedly help me get the front left wheel off the lawn tractor. The weeds are getting high. I should junk the 18-year-old unit and buy a new one. But I can't do either right now, because I have a three-hour radio show beginning at noon. LSU's football game has been canceled because of the category-four hurricane in Florida and to the north. Something had to fill that gap. And on Saturdays I am Mister Fill-In.
One of the topics that came up involved canned codfish, the kind that for many years was made into those vile codfish cake that a small, nostalgic contingent of New Orleans people cherish, especially during Lent. I say make the same recipe with crabmeat, and everyone would be happy.
Mattina Bella. Covington: 421 E Gibson. 985-892-0708.
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Sunday, October 9, 2016.
The Last Show Of The New Songs.
I have an incredibly busy day, but the work flies out of my hands rapidly. The jobs range from finishing my tax return (the extension period ends this weekend), singing at St Jane's while an organist I didn't know offered the few 10 o'clock regulars through sings we have never seen before, the final performance of the first NPAS concert of the new season, and a party at our assistant conductor Amy Prats's house.
The NPAS performances went very well, both for the chorus as a whole and for the trio I gathered to sing "Tumbling Tumbleweeds." But what we will remember about this program (Country and Western music) is that during the two performances, at different times and on different days, three people passed out and fell to the floor. None of them were hurt, but they all had the same issue: dehydration. I had a bout with that a few years ago, and now never go long without taking a swig of water from the bottle in my pocket.
And, as if this weren't enough, one of the sopranos got slammed in a pile-up on I-12, totaling her car. And yet another had to take her son to the emergency room. There was one point in which the NPAS performance site had three 911 ambulances outside at the same time. Pure and unfortunate coincidences, but strangely chilling.
