Sunday, December 6, 2015.
Grueling Routine For A Sunday.
Aside from singing at St. Jane's, taking a five-lap walk around the Cool Water Ranch, working on the NOMenu website's never-ending need for minor adjustments, and assembling my
new desk chair (it took much longer than I would have imagined) I did nothing else.
Breakfast was my usual satsumas (while they're still in season), toast and café au lait. My dinner was a ham sandwich. Even restaurant critics take time off the delightful plumbing of the food beat. Mary Ann spent most of the day at a birthday party for the her niece's baby.
Speaking of babies, Jude sent me a photograph of his and his wife's newborn son Jackson that makes it look as if Jackson were taking his first selfie. (It was not a setup.) I'd publish it here, but Jude has forbidden my posting photographs of Jackson. I will say that this has nothing to do with my grandson's looks, which are almost identical to the pix I took of Jude when he was two weeks old. Anyway, we show the picture to everyone who passes by. We are as proud as we are charmed.
[divider type=""]
Monday, December 7, 2015.
A Birthday, And Don't I Forget It!
Mary Ann's birthday takes on a much less festive deportment than last year's. That one was a true festival, with Jude flying in and Daniel the Gourmet Cellist performing and the main party. But this year the count of years is a prime number, and less prone to major celebration. It seems like mere confirmation of the bad news last year at this time.
Yesterday she told me that she liked the idea of going to the Windsor Court for their new lunch special. She heard a man call the radio show and rave about this new addition to the Grill Rooms offerings. The twenty-dollar price and the somewhat home-cookery quality of most of the dishes make it more appealing still.
So rare is is such a specific wish from Mary Ann that I sign on without hesitation, even though it will goober up my day. But everything was gong fine until Mary Leigh called me to check in. She told me in no uncertain terms that I have not called her often enough in the first two weeks of her new home in Virginia. I try to make up for that by staying on the horn for a half hour. As soon as I put the phone down, in came another long communication from Jude. And as soon as both of those calls played out, Jude and ML each were on the line with Mary Ann for their Happy Birthday wishes.
This made us an hour late for the Windsor Court reservation. Which meant that I would not be able to get back home in time for the radio show (I would walk the two blocks from the hotel to the radio station and broadcast from there.) And
that meant that I would be at least a half-hour late for the second-to-last rehearsal of NPAS's Christmas concert this weekend. But I would be a fool if I did not focus entirely on Mary Ann on this day.
The Windsor Court lunch lived up to its billing, and then some. Whoever thought of this is brilliant, especially since the Windsor Court rolled out nothing much of interest at lunch for many years. The menu concept is a tremendous enhancement of the meat-and-three concept popular in diners across America. You order one of the four entrees, then choose any three sides, followed by a little dessert.
Every part of this was remarkable. First we were given splinters of white asparagus, on which were loaded a couple dozen Louisiana caviar grains. This may be the first ever amuse-bouche in a meat-and-three.
We ask if we may have one of our sides before the entree, instead of with it. Yes, of course we can. MA has turkey and andouille gumbo--a very fine, dark-roux version--her favorite ever, she says. I have a cream soup of white asparagus with some little wild mushrooms floating on top.
The entrees are a half-fillet of redfish amandine. Ah. This is how they make the Jackson price (I am talking about the currency, not my grandson) possible. My main is five square, quarter-inch thick slices/slabs of beef brisket. It has been cooked for a long time in soy sauce, and seared. Very good.
With these dishes come the other two sides. Mary Ann has roasted brussels sprouts and collard greens, (both favorites of hers) and a farro casserole. "What is farro doing here?" she asks. "I thought that you only see farro in hip cafes in Los Angeles?" Yes, there, as well as six thousand years ago, when farro was one of the earliest vegetables to be cultivated by human hands.
I have what may have been the best succotash of my life, made with fresh corn and black-eye peas. It's not only good, but served in a portion large enough that I am beginning to feel full. But I also have truffled mac 'n' cheese. I hadn't asked for that, but the meat-and-three plate had a gap because of our having the soup as the first course. (Note to Mike: Yes, I do occasionally get special treatment, the way some regular people often do on birthdays.) And we also have a Windsor Court salad floating free. That salad was the first dish Mary Ann and I shared after our marriage ceremony twenty-seven years ago. Somebody back there knows us.
You get a dessert with this deal. Three little balls of ice cream and sorbets. MA receives a special plate of chocolates since it's her birthday. Chef Daniel Causgrove steps out of the kitchen to say hello. We linger a bit longer. And then it's showtime for me. Mary Ann, having been a radio personality for years herself, knows that you can't stop a clock.
When the radio show ends, I drive as fast as I like to Covington for the rehearsal. I think I was able to sneak in without our conductor noticing, but she's a she, and I know only too well that men rarely sneak anything past women.
Windsor Court Grill Room. CBD: 300 Gravier. 504-522-1994.
Every part of this was remarkable. First we were given splinters of white asparagus, on which were loaded a couple dozen Louisiana caviar grains. This may be the first ever amuse-bouche in a meat-and-three.
We ask if we may have one of our sides before the entree, instead of with it. Yes, of course we can. MA has turkey and andouille gumbo--a very fine, dark-roux version--her favorite ever, she says. I have a cream soup of white asparagus with some little wild mushrooms floating on top.
The entrees are a half-fillet of redfish amandine. Ah. This is how they make the Jackson price (I am talking about the currency, not my grandson) possible. My main is five square, quarter-inch thick slices/slabs of beef brisket. It has been cooked for a long time in soy sauce, and seared. Very good.
With these dishes come the other two sides. Mary Ann has roasted brussels sprouts and collard greens, (both favorites of hers) and a farro casserole. "What is farro doing here?" she asks. "I thought that you only see farro in hip cafes in Los Angeles?" Yes, there, as well as six thousand years ago, when farro was one of the earliest vegetables to be cultivated by human hands.
I have what may have been the best succotash of my life, made with fresh corn and black-eye peas. It's not only good, but served in a portion large enough that I am beginning to feel full. But I also have truffled mac 'n' cheese. I hadn't asked for that, but the meat-and-three plate had a gap because of our having the soup as the first course. (Note to Mike: Yes, I do occasionally get special treatment, the way some regular people often do on birthdays.) And we also have a Windsor Court salad floating free. That salad was the first dish Mary Ann and I shared after our marriage ceremony twenty-seven years ago. Somebody back there knows us.
You get a dessert with this deal. Three little balls of ice cream and sorbets. MA receives a special plate of chocolates since it's her birthday. Chef Daniel Causgrove steps out of the kitchen to say hello. We linger a bit longer. And then it's showtime for me. Mary Ann, having been a radio personality for years herself, knows that you can't stop a clock.
When the radio show ends, I drive as fast as I like to Covington for the rehearsal. I think I was able to sneak in without our conductor noticing, but she's a she, and I know only too well that men rarely sneak anything past women.
