The immense but intermittent rainstorms keep coming, growing in threat as the day wears on. I make my Saturday route, and find myself hungry as I head toward the dry cleaners and then home. I see the Covington Bud's Broiler, and decide that enough time has elapsed since the Marys talked me into going there for the first time. That was only a few days after it opened. No surprise that a mob of would-be customers descended on the place, making normal operations difficult. The staff hadn't been at it long enough to have all its moves down. And all the other problems of recently-opened restaurants.
It is much better today. At last, it has become possible to order a Number One with cheese without getting into a lengthy discussion with an order-taker who swears that there is no such thing as a Number One with cheese. They just make it for me, and they get it right the first time.
On the other hand, I continue to find that all Bud's Broilers are not the equals of the Bud's of the 1960s and 1970s. The charcoal grilling is still there, but this is not the flavor I gloried in so much in my high school years. Or has my taste changed? That possibility always looms.
Mary Ann's current dining program is that she will dine with me only once a day. We indulge a deux at Pardo's, a five-star restaurant where we have not been in awhile. The weather--which caused a little flooding here and there around Mandeville--has the dining room a little less full its usual fullness.
This is the kind of restaurant where, through most of my life, I would have a five-course meal, at least. Today, it's only three. Or two and a half, since MA doesn't eat dessert.
[caption id="attachment_51703" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Saturday, June 4, 2016.
Dodging Thunderstorms Between Five Stars.
Soup du jour one night at Pardo's.[/caption]
We both begin with the soup du jour, an imaginative but home-style collection of beans, little meatballs and Italian sausage. Then right to the entree. For MA it's a ribeye steak with mushrooms and spinach in a brown sauce. She seemed to like it. I was busy with a very generous bouillabaisse, with mussels, two kinds of fish, shrimp and a few other seafoods in a lusty seafood broth.
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Bouillabaisse from Pardo's.[/caption]
All of this is from the hand of Marvin Tweedy, Pardo's most-of-the-time chef. (Sometimes he takes over the kitchen at the associated Forks and Corks.)
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Lemon icebox pie.[/caption]
The aforementioned dessert was a very sweet lemon ice box pie, rich and big enough to have served at least one other eater. Couldn't polish it off myself.
The rain had stopped by the time we were finished. Embarking in Mary Ann's car, I see my good camera on the floor. I wish I had remembered to bring it in with me, so I could get better photos than the ones here. Telephone-cameras never quite give me what I want.
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Pardo's. Covington: 69305 Hwy 21. 985-893-3603. Sunday, June 5, 2016.
Feels Like Graduation Day.
Up in the choir loft at St. Jane's, we have a slate of hymns today that I have never heard before, let alone sung. But I must be learning something at NPAS, because with only one exception I find myself reading the music easily. I wish I had learned that skill when I was much younger.
What a thing to think. There's hardly anything in my life that I don't wish I'd started in on far earlier than I did. Playing an instrument, speaking French and Spanish, buying a house, starting an IRA. . . the list of missed opportunities is endless.
Mary Ann and I don't miss the opportunity to have breakfast together at Mattina Bella. We have not been there in months. I wonder why. It's just as good as ever. MA has the Country Boy omelette (containing all the meats from the menu) and I have a combo breakfast with soft-scrambled eggs, bacon, the multi-grain toast from Susan Spicer, and a pancake. It will be the only meal today for either of us.
We get caught in, of all things, a bicycle race. A circuitous route through old town Covington has these ultra-modern bikes zooming around corners. Traffic is detoured, putting a crimp in the business at Mattina Bella. Which is to say 89 percent full instead of the full hundred with a waiting list.
This afternoon is the second and final performance of NPAS's Americana concert. The music is playing in my brain far better than it was only two days ago. On the other hand, I still lack a good grip on "Shenandoah."
When the concert ends, everybody disperses quickly into the sunny Sunday afternoon. Our season, begun in October 2015, is over. We will not meet again for over two months. What ever will we do on our Monday rehearsal nights?
Something about this gives me the feeling I had at my high-school graduation. And my college graduation, too. And when we moved from Mid-City to Abita Springs.
Funny.
Mattina Bella. Covington: 421 E Gibson. 985-892-0708.
Written by Tom Fitzmorris June 08, 2016 12:01 in
