Mary Ann is back home today and up early. We go to Mattina Bella for our usual Saturday breakfast. It's all I can do to keep from blurting out what happened at the NPAS concert last night.
No performance today, but that doesn't clear my calendar. I go into town to do the noon-till-three Saturday show. It's rare that I broadcast there on weekends, but I have a couple of brief but essential tasks I need to take care of.
Afterwards, the Marys and I hatch a plan for a late lunch or early dinner at Galatoire's. They also have a few items to take care of, extending beyond the end of the radio show. No problem. I conk out for an hour's nap in my office at the radio station, then I walk over to Galatoire's, where through some miracle Mary Ann is already waiting for me impatiently. (I was supposed to be there at four, but I didn't make it until four-o-two.)
We were to have met up with some friends who in turn had an invitation for us to a party a block away. But the friends don't show up at either venue. We let the mystery go and we settle into a typical lunch for the Marys when they are with me. MA orders nothing but an empty plate, so she can have some of the fried chicken wings that the kitchen sends to us. They must have needed something to do back there. The chicken is from the employee meal that day. The dining room is nearly empty, but that's normal for a mid-Saturday afternoon.
Mary Leigh orders a wedge salad, period. She also picks at the bacon from the oysters en brochette. Next comes a Galatoire Goute--shrimp remoulade and crawfish (because crabmeat is currently banned) maison. MA and I share that one. ML still doesn't eat seafood.
My entree is lemonfish with the Marguery sauce and garnish. That's a very thick, blond sauce riddled with good-size shrimp. It was for a long time the signature entree at Galatoire's, but it has fallen from favor in recent decades. I can understand why. This is really a taste from out of the past.
Caramel custard is routinely sent to every birthday boy or girl in the house. A long time ago, I began telling them that it's my birthday on every visit. They're onto me now. Our waiter says he'll send the custard if I will forgo having the birthday song sung by the waiters. Fair enough.
Written by Tom Fitzmorris March 23, 2017 12:01 in
