Tuesday, April 12, 2016.
High Tide.
The tachometer of my activity is revving up, the fuel coming from three big items on my agenda during the next three days. Today, I am a participant in chef's association's annual Best Chefs Of Louisiana, a fundraiser for the New Orleans Mission. When I arrive right on time at the Lakefront Airport--a great spot to stage this grazing event--the place is already full, even spilling out into the parking lot. In a light rain.
It's not long before all these people find a second atrium as big as the first (and that's pretty big) is available, chock-a-block with chefs cooking and dispensing their dishes.
[caption id="attachment_51252" align="alignright" width="320"]
Chef John Folse, waxing eloquent on the subject of Chef Paul Prudhomme.[/caption]One of my two jobs is to introduce fourteen of the forty chefs who are being honored. The men and women on my list are the ones who are actually doing the cooking tonight. The chefs who are named Legends don't have to cook, but give short speeches instead. (I wonder how many of them would have preferred to cook.) Their subject is the importance of the Mission (it serves homeless people) and the legacy of the late Chef Paul Prudhomme, who is being specially remembered tonight.
My other responsibility is to drum up as much interest as I can in the sale of $100 tickets to the event. I have no way of knowing the outcome of that, but I meet a lot of Eat Clubbers here. All of them have high praise for the spread, which is certainly the best and most interesting in the six years of this to-do.
[caption id="attachment_51247" align="alignnone" width="438"]
Chicken feet.[/caption]
I can almost sum up the offerings with one item. The Wong brothers--the owners of Trey Yuen, and very active members of the American Culinary Federation--are spooning out not only their famous pecan shrimp but also fried chicken feet.
Yes.
"Chicken feet have become more expensive than chicken meat," Frank Wong tells me. "We sell a lot of chicken feet in China. They love it. They poach them first, then pull off the tough skin."
I try a foot, and find it difficult to eat, with the predictably small amount of actual meat. What flavor I get is good enough to make me finish the thing. The main pleasure here is being able to say that I ate chicken feet.
The two rooms have lots of other good stuff. Brennan's and its chef Slade Rushing (who is now a Legend) has a particularly fine spread, with grillades and grits and a variation on crepes Fitzgerald. The next generation of Wongs is rolling delicious grilled beef with a teriyaki sauce around asparagus, among other things. And the guys from Root and Square Root have a wonderful dessert of creme caramel with pecans and a few other flavor-texture actors.
The most interesting aspect of the evening is reconnecting with a bunch of restaurant people I haven't encountered in years--perhaps even decades. The Uddo brothers Michael and Mark are both here. As usual, they each have their own employments. Culinary educator Frank Sclafani, who I thought was completely retired, tells me that he's still taking part in the state instruction program involved with food safety.
The Lakefront Airport's terminal building, fresh from a major restoration of its Art Deco architecture, is a terrific place to hold an event like this. I like the use of two separate rooms, which makes it possible to hold conversations in the area without the band.
Of course, the band is too loud. But I can't complain, because I added to the din by singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." With a microphone. For some reason, I started doing that five years ago at the inaugural iteration of this event. The band, then and now and every other time in between, is Louisiana Spice. I skipped last year, but apparently a number of people asked that I be included again. This may be the last time, though. I found my falsetto diminished substantially since I last tried to swing on that vine.
It's not long before all these people find a second atrium as big as the first (and that's pretty big) is available, chock-a-block with chefs cooking and dispensing their dishes.
[caption id="attachment_51252" align="alignright" width="320"]
Chef John Folse, waxing eloquent on the subject of Chef Paul Prudhomme.[/caption]One of my two jobs is to introduce fourteen of the forty chefs who are being honored. The men and women on my list are the ones who are actually doing the cooking tonight. The chefs who are named Legends don't have to cook, but give short speeches instead. (I wonder how many of them would have preferred to cook.) Their subject is the importance of the Mission (it serves homeless people) and the legacy of the late Chef Paul Prudhomme, who is being specially remembered tonight.
My other responsibility is to drum up as much interest as I can in the sale of $100 tickets to the event. I have no way of knowing the outcome of that, but I meet a lot of Eat Clubbers here. All of them have high praise for the spread, which is certainly the best and most interesting in the six years of this to-do.
[caption id="attachment_51247" align="alignnone" width="438"]
Chicken feet.[/caption]
I can almost sum up the offerings with one item. The Wong brothers--the owners of Trey Yuen, and very active members of the American Culinary Federation--are spooning out not only their famous pecan shrimp but also fried chicken feet.
Yes.
"Chicken feet have become more expensive than chicken meat," Frank Wong tells me. "We sell a lot of chicken feet in China. They love it. They poach them first, then pull off the tough skin."
I try a foot, and find it difficult to eat, with the predictably small amount of actual meat. What flavor I get is good enough to make me finish the thing. The main pleasure here is being able to say that I ate chicken feet.
The two rooms have lots of other good stuff. Brennan's and its chef Slade Rushing (who is now a Legend) has a particularly fine spread, with grillades and grits and a variation on crepes Fitzgerald. The next generation of Wongs is rolling delicious grilled beef with a teriyaki sauce around asparagus, among other things. And the guys from Root and Square Root have a wonderful dessert of creme caramel with pecans and a few other flavor-texture actors.
The most interesting aspect of the evening is reconnecting with a bunch of restaurant people I haven't encountered in years--perhaps even decades. The Uddo brothers Michael and Mark are both here. As usual, they each have their own employments. Culinary educator Frank Sclafani, who I thought was completely retired, tells me that he's still taking part in the state instruction program involved with food safety.
The Lakefront Airport's terminal building, fresh from a major restoration of its Art Deco architecture, is a terrific place to hold an event like this. I like the use of two separate rooms, which makes it possible to hold conversations in the area without the band.
Of course, the band is too loud. But I can't complain, because I added to the din by singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." With a microphone. For some reason, I started doing that five years ago at the inaugural iteration of this event. The band, then and now and every other time in between, is Louisiana Spice. I skipped last year, but apparently a number of people asked that I be included again. This may be the last time, though. I found my falsetto diminished substantially since I last tried to swing on that vine.
