Wednesday, June 8, 2016.
Disturbance.
I awaken at two in the morning with a digestive issue that will keep me awake the rest of the night. In the morning, I take something that resolves the problem within minutes. But I can't really eat the rest of the day, which is just as well, because I need to catch up on sleep. I don't think any of this is related to what I ate last night (I felt it coming on before that), or any other recent eating. Stuff happens.
This is, however, an occupational hazard of my work. I used to get what's usually called (inaccurately) "twenty-four-hour flu" a couple times a year. It's been a long time since the last attack, though. Maybe I'm immune.
I reflect on how handy it is that I can give forth my radio show from home. Otherwise, I would have had to arrange a guest host for today, or run the NBC Sports Network during Food Show time. The latter is something I really hate to do.
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hursday, June 9, 2016.
Cool! Swinging Around Slidell.
The weather has turned decidedly sweltering for the first time this year. After two years, I have to give up my method of keeping the house cool despite a malfunction of the downstairs unit. I have the A/C guy come with a stop-gap repair, but he says that the unit is ready to be replaced, after a miraculous twenty-six years of service. He suggests postponing the big job (as in $6K) until the fall, when the price will be lower.
Mary Ann is busy with something and can't do dinner. I take the opportunity to head home around the east side of Lake Pontchartrain. It's so long since I went that way that forgot how scenic the I-10 is as it cuts through the marshlands of the eastern half of the city. The sunny weather shows all this in clarity and color.
I take another eyeshot of the vista by crossing the lake on the old Maestri Bridge, built in the 1920s. It is in surprisingly good condition to carry the first miles of US 11--a highway that goes all the way from here to Canada. The only part of the bridge that gives one pause are several humps on the north end that are the doing of a fault line that the bridge crosses.
My real reason to go through Slidell is to stop in for dinner at Nathan's. The restaurant in the Slidell marina is running live commercials on my radio show, and I am due to check it out to make sure a) that I am up to date on any new dishes and 2) the place is still good enough for me to stand behind.
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Snapper throats at Nathan's.[/caption]
Chef-owner Ross Eirich isn't here today. But his manager lagniappes a couple of amuse-bouches. One is a cup of crabmeat and asparagus soup, the other a pair of soft-shell crab claws with a couple of new sauces.
With the help of those things, I find myself with a massive dinner. An appetizer of scallops with bacon and a sort of remoulade sauce includes not the one or two scallops I expected, but a half-dozen. This would easily have served as an entree, and at $14 is a bargain. (On the other hand, I have had scallops of better quality than these. I would prefer one or two good ones to six not-so's.)
The entree, of which I am too full to eat more than about a third, is "Mike's snapper," a good-size fillet with a buttery sauce and a generous amount of fresh garnishes.
How I get down a dessert of creme brulee after all that can only be explained by my total fast yesterday. On the other hand, I recently read something interesting about the role of sweets in a large dinner. Although our Enough! reflex makes further eating uncomfortable after a certain point, that reflex does not seem to choke off a desire for anything sweet. That's why desserts are so pernicious. Even though the other strictures on my eating allows my weight to continue slowly downward, desserts still have myself-discipline surrounded.
Nathan's. Slidell: 36440 Old Bayou Liberty Rd. 985-643-0443.
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Friday, June 10, 2016.
A Steak And A Band At Andrea's.
For the past week or so I've had a hunger for a good steak. The kind that's crusty on the outside, juicy in the middle, and tender without being soft. Whenever this need comes to me, fortunately, I can put it off almost indefinitely. Because I know that I will get it as time goes on.
Today, during one of his biweekly commercials on the radio show, Chef Andrea Apuzzo mentioned that he has a pretty good steak on his menu. "I like to present the whole tenderloin at the table after I trim it," he said. "I let the customer tell me how thick he wants it." This is sounding better by the moment. Then he mentions that Butch Claire will be playing in the Capri Blu Bar tonight.
"What kind of music does he play?" I ask, wondering if this is a lead in solving Mary Leigh's search for a band for her wedding reception.
"Seventies," Andrea says. "Seventies, eighties, some Sinatra and Beatles. He knows everything."
This sounds like it has some possibilities. I decide to stay for dinner, satisfy my beef-eating urge, then listen to Butch when he comes on at eight.
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From top left: tournedos end of beef tenderloin; a nine-ounce tournedos steak; the tenderloin tip.[/caption]
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Seared tournedos with demi-glace and peppercorns. [/caption]
The dinner is more impressive than almost all others I've I've had at Andrea's in a long time. He allows me to select the entire tournedos, the narrow end of the tenderloin. It's about ten ounces, but because of the cut, it's very thick. Just what I love. And I do, with a peppercorn demi-glace with a little cream. If I had to come forth with a complaint, it would be that the salt component is a little high.
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Creole tomatoes with olive oil and fresh herbs.[/caption]
I begin with excellent Creole tomato salad, then a small bowl (still too much) angel hair arrabbiata ("angry" pasta, a reference to the red pepper in the tomato sauce). On the vegetable plate that comes with the tournedos is gratin dauphinoise, but just the top part, with the light topping of cheese.
We move from the dining room to the Capri Blu Bar, where Butch has already begun his set. He has some groupies (his wife, for one--lucky him). His tastes indeed address the full range of American popular music. All we need now is for the bride to approve. She is very picky.
Then Andrea's right-hand lady Tia tells me that Jimmy Maxwell--who has a terrific big band, and who has let me sing with him a couple of times--also has a smaller ensemble. And his son Mark Monistere has his own act. Tia says Mark is fantastic. I look at his website and notice immediately a likeness to Michael Buble in both look and musical style. Mary Leigh thinks Buble is the ultimate, to the point of having found out that he never does weddings at any price.
But maybe Mark does. We saw him at the French Quarter Festival a few weeks ago and he was very good. And we've got to hire a band sometime soon.
I say all these things as if I have some authority in the selection. I do not.
Andrea's. Metairie: 3100 19th St. 504-834-8583.