[title type="h5"]Thursday, February 5, 2015.
Giorlando's Is Jumping![/title]
From my kitchen door to the spot on the road where the garbage truck picks up is about a city block. The disposal technicians, hanging off the sides of their specialized vehicle, often arrive early in the morning, and I must carry my two or three bags through the coldest part of the day. But t also lets me see what's going on in the bigger world. For the past few weeks, the morning announcements have been performed by between three and seven large, loudly honking geese, flying low in V formation at a determined clip, unambiguously north. Are they already headed back to their Canadian hangouts? I take this as another sign that winter is nearly over.
My idea for supper tonight was to head over to Martin Wine Cellar and avail myself of its deli. But the parking lot at the Metairie store is full. It's the night of their weekly tastings, but are they really attracting that many people these days?
I think about Giorlando's, a few blocks away. Where, in contrast and for a change, there are open parking slots. This is the trouble with the suburbs. When the parking lot fills up, there are few nearby curbside places to ditch the vehicle.
[caption id="attachment_46601" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Brisket, gravy, mashed potatoes and peas at Giorlando's.[/caption]
The restaurant is busy. The drawing cards are the roast beef poor boy (one of the really good ones) and the red-saucy Italian dishes. But the waiter says that I might like the dinner special: beef brisket with brown gravy, peas and mashed potatoes.
The mere mention of that array makes my mind flash back to my earliest days of eating in restaurants. Since my introduction to food other than my mother's involved roast beef a la poor boy, for a long time that's all I ever ordered in restaurants. One place where I feasted on it was the Camellia Grill, which in the 1960s had one or two dinner plate specials every night. On Tuesday night, this was. . . roast beef, gravy, peas and mashed potatoes.
I think for a moment, and wonder whether this combination ever turned up before me since those Camellia Grill years. I decide that it has not. I order it. The result was a minor taste flashback, but nothing more. I used to remark to the waiters at the Camellia Grill that the roast beef was the best special they did all week long. The fact that it was often all gone by the time I got my dinner break at the Time Saver seemed to confirm that. But one cold day there was no "special on the roast beef!" (as the waiters called it). And there never would be again.
While I ate, Dana Giorlando came over to my table. Heck. I thought I was flying under the radar. She said that Mary Ann had been in just that afternoon, attempting to sell Giorlando's an ad. What a peculiar coincidence! I hope it was not interpreted as my stopping in to help make the sale. I stay out of that game entirely. Indeed, my showing up today probably queered the deal.
[title type="h5"]Giorlando's. Metairie: 741 Bonnabel. 504-835-8593. [/title]
