Saturday, February 4, 2017.
The Best Use Of Jumbo Lump. I Am A Chairman.
Mary Ann recognizes the importance of birthdays more than anyone I know. (Other than my big sister Judy, who to my knowledge has never failed to send a card to every birthday celebrant she knows, including even in-laws.) Mary Ann's list doesn't spread that widely. But those who are close to her will find her arranging numerous special events for those in her inner circle. She attacks these with a sense of duty. In exchange, she expects a lot from her own birthdays, which usually are more like festivals than one-day-only specials.
This morning, she says that in honor of my birthday this Monday. she will break her fast with me at breakfast. We leave early in the day for Bella Luna, but not quite early enough. The person who arrived right before we did--at around seven-thirty--got the last open table.
It is worth waiting for. The best breakfast item at Mattina Bella, one that rivals the best egg dishes in the most famous breakfast and lunch places. It's the blue crab Benedict, made by poaching eggs and serving them on English muffins, covered with a very light hollandaise. What makes this special is the garnish of mushrooms and jumbo lump crabmeat. I see a lot of misuse of the expression "jumbo lump crabmeat," much of which is not even close to that expensive gem of the kitchen. But here the crabmeat really does come out in lumps about the size of your fingertip. About the only way somebody could not like this dish is to have a dislike of crabmeat.
From this point, we head off on our errands. We meet up again in early afternoon at the home of Ceil Lanaux, a close friend and the mother of two of Jude's fellow Scouts in that glorious age. It's Ceil's birthday, and the house is full. Many of the older people speak Croatian; Ceil is steeped in that culture.
Little did we know that on this very day the most celebrated Croatian person in New Orleans--Drago Cvitanovich--would pass away at the age of 94. Insulated from that news, the guests ate the makings of muffulettas, crawfish pies, and a number of dips and desserts.
There are too many cars in Ceil's yard, and it's hard for me to get away in time for my radio show at three. I barely make it.
While I'm in mid-show, the Marys have a scheme underway. Mary Ann knows from her time in radio that at the top of the hour I will get away from my desk to stretch my legs and get some water. I open the door and see, in the middle of our living room, a plump chair decorated with a wide assortment of circles. "Sit down in it!" Mary Ann commands. I do, and it leans back. Not like the duct-tape-covered chair sat in by Frasier's father in the television show, but a very comfortable chair indeed, leaning well back.
Mary Ann knows that I have long wanted something like this. Her thought about the kind of chair put her in an "over my dead body" frame of mind. But while looking for something else, she saw this in a furniture store and decided it was just the right compromise. Ideal for me, acceptable to them. It only took twenty-seven years of aking for me to get either this or a big rocking chair. The perfect birthday gift. And I still have two more days before my day.
I test the comfort of the new chair (it passes with flying colors) by watching an old movie with MA. "To Be Or Not To Be" proves to be a vehicle for Jack Benny in the 1940s, when he didn't really look or act like Jack Benny yet. Benny would wind up being the greatest of radio stars for most of his career. When radio comedies ended, he moved to television. But that changed his show so much that he never returned to his early fame. He became the kind of star you'd see once in awhile on Johnny Carson's Tonight Show.
[divider type=""]
Sunday, February 5, 2017.
Is That Me Watching The Super Bowl?
I go to church to sing, then go to Rouses for the groceries I forgot to buy yesterday. I fail, however, to pick up a few other items I need.
While I'm gone, Mary Ann decides that the pizza she wanted to make front scratch is too much work for a party that will take place this evening. Across the lake,yet. She instead makes a variation of beef Wellington, in which thick, oblong hamburgers, charred just right, are wrapped in puff pastry and baked. These look and taste great. Also among her catering of the party is guacamole, spinach-artichoke dip, and boudin, and grilled andouille. The two sausages come from Savoie's. MA has long said that she thinks Savoie andouille is the best, and expected equally fine things from the new boudin. She doesn't like it as much as she expected. I thought it was all pretty good.
I have no horses inthis race. The dessert will be chocolate and vanilla cup cakes made with her usual precision by Mary Leigh. The party is in her apartment. We invite the Fowlers and a few other people to join us, but we appear not to have sent out the invitations soon enough.
It's a Super Bowl party, taking place in the apartment house's lobby, with a big screen projected onto a large white wall. About a dozen and a half other residents are sprawled out. The Marys display our big spread. When it becomes certain that we have twoo much food by a factor of three, we invite the other folks to try our grub.
We stay through the first half and Lady Ga-Ga's act. And then we pack up to leave, because the score is lopsided and trend seems destined to continue that way. I realize just now that I never did hear who won the game.
