[title type="h5"]Wednesday, April 29, 2015.
The New Chateau du Lac.[/title]
I can't remember who said it, but the advice given to would-be journalists that they should not have any friends rang true when I first heard it, and ever since. I have not followed that idea all the time. I don't think it's possible to do so. But I recognize that when I go against that rule, it diminishes the value of my work a little.
I consider a lot of people in the restaurant business to be personal friends. Certainly I have more of those than of enemies. The best journalists have many enemies, but I can't make myself believe that having a lot of enemies makes one's work better.
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Charcuterie at the Warehouse District Chateau du Lac.[/caption]
I think about these things every time I have dinner with someone whose restaurant I write about. As I did tonight. As is often the case, the impetus is Mary Ann, who is buddies with Paige Seleun, the co-owner with her chef husband of Chateau du Lac. She (either "she" will suffice) has wanted me to try the new Warehouse District Chateau du Lac almost since they opened six months ago.
And tonight we did, the whole four of us. I don't feel too funny about it. Before I came to know them well, I'd already sampled Chateau du Lac and written about it more than once, at their little original place in Kenner. In fact, we did a couple of Eat Clubs there.
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Escargots.[/caption]
We have a classic French bistro dinner. We begin with escargots. Paige could not talk Mary Ann into trying the first snail of her life. I couldn't even get her to sample the garlic-herb butter, which everybody likes on a crust of bread.
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Steak tartare.[/caption]
I surely could not persuade her to take a bite of steak tartare. It was a very generous serving--too much for me alone. But the chef wanted to have a few bites. We agree that he is probably making the best version of that raw ground beef dish to be found in New Orleans these days. In exchange, he send over a few slices of his slow-smoked salmon, which he makes in house. Vivid and subtle, this is pretty near perfection.
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House-smoked salmon.[/caption]
We keep on going with such cold fare, and finally rope MA into sampling the charcuterie. There are few sausages she will push away. And she is mad about the rabbit terrine Chef Jacques makes. I was more interested in the cured duck breast, with its wide, enriching rind of duck fat.
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Petite marmite with scallops.[/caption]
The appetizers keep coming. I see something called petite marmite on the specials page. This is a reference to a little pot in which something juicy is cooked. The something can be almost anything. This one was dominated by sea scallops and leafy herbs. Tasty light little things.
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Australian filet mignon.[/caption]
I'm not really eating an entree. Somebody gets a filet mignon, and that triggers a question for Jacques. He has a trade involving Australian steak and lamb. It is of very good quality, as is apparent in this steak.
We have gone through three bottles of wine among the four of us. Paige starts telling me how good I look now that I have lost all those pounds. Mary Ann corrects her by saying that I might look better than I once did, but that I still have a long way to go before I could ever be anything like, say, sexy. I'm afraid I must agree with her. But I have been congratulated for my good looks so seldom in my life that I accept Paige's encomiums, and set myself up for more.
Somebody--it wasn't me, really--threw out the suggestion that I should come to Chateau du Lac once a week and sing. Mary Ann thinks this is a good idea. Paige likes it even better, and says I should stand and deliver a tune right then and there. I have no shyness about doing this, and I launch into the song I sang at Jude's wedding, "My Romance," and ended it with my arm around my wife. She hates this, as she always has.
Paige turns to a man dining with friends at the next table. She is enough of a pro to make sure that we are not disturbing anyone with these irregularities. "This is Tom Fitzmorris, the food writer," she says.
"I know," says the man, with somewhat less enthusiasm.
"That was him singing just now," Paige says.
There is a pause. "I know," the man repeats.
[title type="h5"]Chateau Du Lac. Warehouse District & Center City: 857 Fulton St. 504-301-0235. [/title]
