Sunday, May 21, 2017.
Brunch At The Ox Lot (9).
A peculiar activity has entered the weekend home schedule in recent weeks. Mary Leigh drives across the lake to meet up with Mary Ann. ML brings her dog Bauer. They usually wind up at the North Shore lakefront, where Bauer chases tennis balls thrown into the water. He loves doing that, and will play the game for hours. But at some point the girls go to the Cool Water Ranch, where an interface needs to be found to keep our two big German Shepherds far away from Bauer, who is about a third the size of the Ranch dogs, who go wild with defensive alarm and then into attack mode when they see Bauer, who hides out in MA's car (well out of the sun, of course, and with windows open).
And every week I ask myself, "How is any of this considered fun by any of the participants?"
Most of the action was yesterday. ML and Bauer left the ranch this morning, leaving MA with a free morning. She wants to have brunch at Ox Lot 9. I think I've explained the name in this space before. Most of the blocks in the old-town part of Covington have at their centers open areas. Originally these were used for the sale of livestock. Now they're parking lots, and a very strong resource for the shops, restaurants and bars in the vicinity.
[caption id="attachment_47945" align="alignnone" width="270"]
Dining room at Ox Lot 9.[/caption]The neighborhood was strengthened even more by the opening of the newly-restored Southern Hotel, whose restaurant is Ox Lot 9. We'd been here several times, mostly in its first year. Haven't showed up lately, but I'm glad we did today. The old brunch menu was good, but went a long time with few changes. Now it's almost a different restaurant, with a long list of original ideas.
Our overeating begins with a pile of hand-cut fries to balance the mimosas. This is about three times the serving we're accustomed to, and comes with a rich aioli. We couldn't finish all the fries, but we do like them. The mimosas are made with juice of the Cara Cara orange. Haven't heard of those before. They're a variation of the navel orange, and have an unusual reddish color. It was drinkable, but we're about out of the orange season, and this has been a bad one.
Our brunch entrees are similar to one another. Hers had beef brisket debris, with a sauce that made the whole thing look something like grillades and grits. Grits are indeed at the base of my plate. The protein here is smoked pork. We are reminded that the guys who own Ox Lot 9 also operate Smoke, the barbecue joint on the other side of the Bogue Falaya river.
Also on the plate are beans, chili peppers, and a generally Southwestern flavor. That always seems to go well with eggs dishes, and it was true here. Both these plates were big and full, and we both know that we will not need another meal this day.
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Hand-cut frites at Ox-Lot 9.[/caption]
My radio show begins at one and goes on for two hours. Afterwards, I take a long walk around the ranch. I find that my mailbox is falling off its pedestal. It's a wonder it's there at all, since it was being held in place by about a quarter inch of a single drywall screw. (I did not build this thing myself, and I don't know who did. I start digging through my tool shed for what I would need to fix this.
I find nothing. I own at least three power drills. The only one I find is the plug-in kind. But the job is about a block away. And the chuck key needed to change bits is missing. The two cordless drills? Nowhere to be found, despite their day-glo green color. Other things I can't find are the bag of cable ties. Two or three of these would have held the mailbox in place for now. I know I have a hundred of them. But where?
This happens every time I try to fix something. I used to be halfway good at this. I could float sheetrock, do basic plumbing, and install electrical appliances like ceiling fans. Now I can't seem to even get started.
The thing that really drives me nuts is this: if I need a Phillips-head screwdriver, I will reach into my toolbox and bring out a flat-blade screwdriver. And another one, and five or seventeen more after that. Then I run out completely. If I need a flat-blade screwdriver, dozens of Phillips drivers appear. Zero of the other kind.
This ruins the rest of my day. I just get back to writing and building web pages, the only things I seem to be competent at. Most of the time.
Midway through the afternoon, MA calls to tell me that she has bought a new smartphone for me. I sure need one. My current phone has as its operating system Windows, which near as I can tell provides no services of any kind. I wonder how many months will go by before I get this new phone operating. I will be with my son Jude in Los Angeles next month. I hope he has time to lend me his skills.
Ox Lot 9. Covington: 428 E Boston St . 985-400-5663.
