[title type="h5"]Saturday, June 14, 2014.
Dinner At The Scotts'.[/title]
I still need a haircut for the radio station's picture taking next Wednesday. I leave early on my Saturday errands to try to find a barbershop or salon. None of the four I try can take me without a wait that would jeopardize the beginning of the radio show at noon. I remain shaggy.
So is the grass at the Cool Water Ranch. I'll bet my neighbors are not happy about it. All my mowing equipment--a small tractor, a push mower, and a string trimmer--is out of order. The loss of the latter embarrasses me. With that thing I could at least cut down the weeds that stand higher than I do. The battery charging unit is the problem. Then, a nice surprise: I order a replacement charger and battery online in about two minutes. I wonder if anyone has estimated the boost in spending brought about by this easy availability. Until recently, buying something like this was so difficult that a lot of possible sales didn't happen.
Dinner tonight with the Fowlers. They are going through more or less the same episodes with their kids as we are with ours. Logically enough: their progeny are about the same age as ours. They seem to be a little ahead of us in planning upcoming weddings.
[caption id="attachment_42730" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Barbecue shrimp at The Scotts.[/caption]
As in past dinners at The Scotts (owned by two guys named Scott), we order everything on the abbreviated menu and pass each dish around. Also true to form, nearly everything is better than we expect. It must have something to do with the tapas-size portions of everything, with prices to match. The dishes are to the point, with little in the way of either lengthy descriptions or complicated presentations. Deviled eggs on a little salad. Seared sea scallops. An offbeat approach to the Caprese salad of tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. A little steak. A cone of fresh-cut fries. Barbecue shrimp. Pieces of half-blackened redfish. Bread pudding and creme brulee. The only disappointment is a house-made tamale that just sat there.
[caption id="attachment_42738" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Seared sea scallops.[/caption]
The place is busy but not full. Although The Scotts is busy at morning coffee and breakfast, and for sandwiches and salads at lunch, the two nights a week they're open for dinner are an easy pleasure.
[title type="h5"]The Scotts' Coffee And Tapas Bar. Mandeville: 201 Carroll St. 985-231-7632. [/title]
[divider type=""]
[title type="h5"]Sunday, June 15, 2014.
Brunch On The Lakefront.[/title]
Today I met Sid Noel Rideau for the second time. I've known him since the late 1950s, when I watched his Saturday night television show of old horror movies eagerly until, one week, it disappeared. It would not return for a long time, but nobody who ever saw that show ever forgot it.
The first time we shook hands was in the hallway outside my office in 1991. The radio station then was in a converted warehouse behind the Superdome. He was dressed in a suit and looked like a salesman. "Tell me who I am!" he said. I had no idea. "Listen to the voice," he said. I still didn't pick up on it. "Dr. Morgus!" he said. I was embarrassed. A genuine fan should have known.
And he and I have something in common. In our widely-separated heydays, we both had daily programs on WSMB Radio. (I still do, but since the call letters changed to WWWL, I wonder if it counts.) Sid Noel--the name he went by in the pre-Morgus days--was one of the Five Stars on whom WSMB staked its programming. (The others were Marshall Pierce, Roy Roberts, Jim Brown, and Scott Muni.)
Today, Sid sits with family at the next table over from ours, brunching at the Lake House. He introduces himself with his real name, and once again I fail to guess his secret identity. I don't feel too bad about this, since when he's in his Morgus getup, he looks both totally different and totally familiar.
Lake House owner Cayman Sinclair is here, too. His movie catering business is booming, but despite that he is putting more effort into the Lake House restaurant--the historic former Bechac's, well-named for its position across Lakeshore Drive from the real North Shore of Lake Pontchartrain.
He has a good new chef. Pete Kusiw left N'Tini's after working there for awhile following the closing of Juniper, the Old Mandeville restaurant he struggled to keep going for years after Katrina wiped out its original location.
The Lake House is doing a buffet for Sunday brunch. Mary Ann didn't know that, but she is mildly delighted by it. (I continue my negative stance on boofays.) She also had no way of knowing that it would rain this morning, chasing indoors all the diners at outdoor tables (which are very nice, what with the lake's breezes and all). MA loves outdoor dining.
[caption id="attachment_42732" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Panneed brie at Lake House.[/caption]
And that's how we happened to sit next to Morgus. Chef Pete tells us not to eat much from the boofay, because he wants us to try a few new menu items. The first of these is bacon-wrapped shrimp of no particular note. (I have become immune to bacon, but I can't believe that's permanent.) Next comes something best described as a panneed wedge of brie cheese. Sounds ridiculous, but this is actually pretty tasty. I like what the bread crumbs do for the cheese. It could make a good dessert substitute.
[caption id="attachment_42733" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Prime rib at Lake House.[/caption]
After a well-made salad on glass plate, the chef sends a couple of grossly oversize entrees, with a warning that these are dinner items, and that we are not expected to eat every scrap. Especially not the prime rib that came to Mary Ann, who loves that cut. For me, a fillet of grilled amberjack, topped with creamy sauce with shrimp, at more manageable. And better, too.
[caption id="attachment_42734" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Grilled fish at Lake House.[/caption]
As North Shore brunches go, this is pretty good. A jazz trio (keyboard, standing bass, and guitar) play very well throughout the early afternoon. They're on the young side, and have a great sound.
I tell MA about my haircut problem. She has two suggestions. One is that I go to one of those national chain hair cutters--the ones that are open not only on Monday, but Sunday. But the one Sunday haircut of my life--a week after Katrina hit, while we were evacuated in Atlanta--ranks as the third worst cut of my life.
Mary Ann's other idea is that I allow her to cut my hair. There's something a little too Mommy about that for me.
[title type="h5"]Lake House. Mandeville: 2025 Lakeshore Dr. 985-626-3006.[/title]
Written by Tom Fitzmorris June 23, 2014 12:02 in
