Saturday, March 29, 2014. Pardo's, Cooking Youthfully.
Where have all my shirts gone? Today I brought ten of them to the cleaners, but picked up only three. When I went to wear two of the three, I discovered that they both had holes. LL Bean makes the only truly wrinkle-resistant all-cotton shirts I've ever found. But something about the fabric develops holes in unusual places, sometimes after just a few wearings. Still, I'm much better off than I would be if I were a girl. The clothes women have to wear are so complicated and flimsy that it's no wonder they're always buying more. Mary Ann had her usual struggle to find something to wear for dinner. But she picked the place, so the money isn't on my back. It's Pardo's, a restaurant very close to the top of our Why Don't We Come Here More Often? list. Among the many things she likes about Pardo's is that the customers are younger and more stylish than most restaurants in its caliber. Chef Marvin Tweedy told MA a few days ago that he had a new menu that he wanted us to sample. I am very happy to hear that. Few things irritate me more than dining in a restaurant on the last night of an old menu. It happens more often than pure chance would suggest, and it leaves me with little useful information for my reviews, but a full-size bill. I don't dine entirely for reportorial needs, but I can't ignore that aspect, either. "Is this work or pleasure?" people ask me. Both, all the time. I hope. Marvin turned up in enough North Shore restaurants over the years to have a reputation (a good one). Tonight, bragged that he has Pardo's kitchen running smoothly. This means he can act as an expediter--the guy who checks out all the food immediately before it heads to the table. He did seem to have a full staff of cooks in the open kitchen. [caption id="attachment_41865" align="alignleft" width="133"]
Cocktail of red absinthe and bourbon.[/caption]Osman Rodas, Pardo's owner, was as usual in the thick of things, going back and forth between the kitchen and dining room. The tables were filling up. Even with a reservation, we barely nailed one down.
Our friends the Fowlers joined us for dinner. Collectively, I think our table raised the average age of that night's customers by at least a couple of years. This is very reassuring. The upcoming young-adult population has not shown a strong interest in full-tilt dining out.
I try to act younger than I am, so I ordered a cocktail, a new one: Knob Creek Bourbon in the bottom layer, and a brilliant red liqueur on top. A red absinthe? That's what it was, all right. I've heard about it, but this was my first contact. The two flavors clicked for me--but I like both Bourbon and the anise-like flavor of absinthe.
[caption id="attachment_41866" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Amuse-bouche.[/caption]
The amuse bouche was a single corn chip topped with chopped shrimp, cheese, and microgreens. Perfect with the cocktail. The purpose of little nibbles like this is not as much to sharpen one's hunger as to create perception of value. And to get the show on the road. Or am I being cynical?
[caption id="attachment_41867" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Foie gras.[/caption]
Osman has a thing for foie gras. It's always on the menu, often in more than one presentation. If I don't order it, he orders it for me. Today's duck liver slab was simpler than it looked, placed atop a savory version of pain perdu, with a blackberry gastrique--and the actual blackberries themselves. The dish lacked for nothing, nor did its ancillary flavors get in the way.
It's hard for me to believe this, but I don't love foie gras thre way I used to. It used to be the undisputed best flavor in the world to me. But what has taken its place? Oysters? Thai curry? Red snapper? I'll have to give that some thought.
[caption id="attachment_41868" align="alignnone" width="382"]
Crabmeat, avocado, mango.[/caption]
While I carried on this orgy of gustatory analysis, Mary Ann enjoyed an appetizer about which she has no doubts. Jumbo lump crabmeat, over a fried green tomato with a sort of remoulade sauce underneath, topped with morsels of avocado and mango. This looks as good as it sounds, and tastes twice as good.
[caption id="attachment_41869" align="alignnone" width="352"]
Pork belly.[/caption]
Now two triangles of pork belly, with the lean part carrying the lion's share of the eating interest. The seared sides of the fat part were not from hunger, either. Underneath, sweet potato polenta? That's different, and held the pork belly off the plate. Also on the table was a demi-dish of gnocchi with a nice texture, pesto made with arugula (!), and Port Salut cheese.
Having dinner with the Fowlers is always fun. Long ago they moved in the same circles we did, with kids of about the same ages going to the same schools. They left town, but we kept running into them anyway. They have two marriages coming up. Our two are not committed to that move quite yet, but they don't seem far from it. So there's that to discuss.
[caption id="attachment_41870" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Grilled salmon.[/caption]
On to the meat of the meal, which required a bit more appetite than any of us still had by that point. For that reason, the great dish of the night was the seared Scottish salmon. It looked so good that you'd have to be in overeating pain not to love it. Thick slabs of the fish bridged a pond of succotash. (Beans and fish are always a winner.) Hush puppies made with shrimp and peas were a nice little touch in a dish of nice big touches.
[caption id="attachment_41871" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Ribeye and frites.[/caption]
Two steaks. Mary Ann is a sucker for a ribeye, particularly with fresh fries on the side. Michael F. took the filet mignon option, with irs enormous wild mushroom, a reduced Cabernet demi-glace, and potatoes a gratin in miniature.
[caption id="attachment_41872" align="alignnone" width="468"]
Duck breast, rabbit leg.[/caption]
I sent word back to the chef asking whether the mixed grill would fit into the rest of our dinner well. He put his check mark on that, and here came grilled duck breast, fanned out on either side of a rabbit leg stuffed with sausage. I'd say this was more fascinating than fabulous. It did make for a good parry with the wine.
[caption id="attachment_41873" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Dessert assortment at Pardo's.[/caption]
The pastry shop let itself go and sent out a big plate of little goodies, easy on the chocolate.
Pardo's is at the high end of the price spectrum for the North Shore, but not what I could call outrageous. Certainly not compared with similar South Shore restaurants. That they do pretty well argues against the notion that a restaurant on the North Shore must be cheap to succeed. Or that the service won't be as good on the other side. Osman is a good teacher.
Pardo's. Covington: 69305 Hwy 21. 985-893-3603.
[divider type=""]Sunday, March 30, 2014. Carpentry And Other Woodworking.
A number of big projects loom as we get ready for a lengthy vacation in two weeks. One of them--Mary Ann begs me not to disclose it here--requires more carpentry than I have done in quite awhile. Fortunately, Mary Leigh and The Boy have thrown their efforts into the project. ML is working for a custom decorator carpentry shop, and has become adept with a table saw. Our kids are always full of surprises. [caption id="attachment_41876" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Mary Leigh's cupcakes.[/caption]
Mary Leigh had other irons in the fire this weekend. She held an open house at her gallery in Covington. For the occasion, she applied her substantial art to the making of cupcakes. Stop in and look at her pottery and sculpture in ceramic, get a free cupcake. Today only. It wasn't a runaway success, but when I was her age I would not have even thought about such an undertaking. Now she knows what it's like. And she did make a few sales.
In my own rabbit warren, I find myself fully engaged by my tax return. As who isn't? But for me, working on that means something else will not get done. Greg Larose, the editor of the CityBusiness newspaper, has had to jump on me to catch up on my columns. I thought I was a week ahead. He says (rightly, I'm sure) that I'm a week behind. This will only get worse: I have to write two extra ones to run while we're in Italy.
[caption id="attachment_41875" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Queso with cho5rizo, the first of two this day at La Carreta.[/caption]
The passion of the Marys for La Carreta still grows. When Mary Leigh is disconnected from MA and me, she goes there as often as three times a week--particularly if The Boy is in tow. I have kept my distance. The portions and kind of food served there does too much damage to my weight-loss program. The two tubs of queso with chorizo, for example. Today I had a platter that had beef enchiladas, tacos, and a tostada, with rice and beans. Too much food. I'm done with this place for at least two months, or until they get molé sauce. Whichever comes first.
La Carreta. Mandeville: 1200 W Causeway Approach. 985-624-2990.
[title type="h6"] Yesterday || Tomorrow[/title]