Friday, July 1, 2016.
Into The Three Days Off At The Lakehouse.
When I get to the radio station at two in the afternoon, almost everybody on the staff is gone for the day. Gone to begin the Fourth Of July. So goes traffic outbound of the whole city. What was once a three-day weekend is now getting to be a four-day weekend.
My day, however, is normal, because the show must go on. (Except on the Fourth of July itself). I'm thinking of going to dinner somewhere good, but the restaurants I'm thinking about are largely booked up. The Essence Festival is on, and the restaurants are very busy. At least they are for those that are open. There is some controversy as to whether there is a racial bias in the schedule of openings and closings at Essence time. I did a bit of calling around and found only about as many restaurants closed as there would be on a comparable major holiday--but my poll wasn't of a statistically significant number of restaurants.
When I call Mary Ann to ask about her plans, she tells me that although she had been in town earlier, she is on the North Shore now. She is willing to meet me halfway. I suggest the Lakehouse, which with its outdoor tables is appealing to MA. I arrive first to see that the main dining room is nearly full, and very cool inside. The guitarist--a native of Italy who plays here every Friday--is also sequestered from the outside heat. Which is on the hot side, but not too bad. The sun is going down, and some breezes come in from the lake. I order an appetizer of seared tuna over a vegetable salad. When MA arrives, she sees that I am well established on the patio, with food and drink proving that I am not merely sucking up to her.
[caption id="attachment_25375" align="alignnone" width="400"]
Crabcake on a salad at Lakehouse.[/caption]
She has only a salad for her half of the culinary argument. I had an excellent filet mignon last time, so I don't want that today. I guess I'll have the crab cake. You get two, and they are large, but the crabmeat itself is generic white meat (as opposed to jumbo lump) and could have done with some more interesting seasonings. It's served atop an inch-thick layer of pasta alfredo, and is in twice the quantity I could finish.
The chef had read something I wrote about café au lait last week, and sends out two cups of his version of the classic hot beverage, with hot milk foamed very lightly--about the way I'd make it at home. But if this was a chicory blend, that fact was lost on my palate. I say that if you're going to serve café au lait in any setting that is fully engaged with the flavors of New Orleans, you've got to use a chicory blend.
The coffee is superb on its own. But it keeps me awake later than I would have liked. Among the many benefits of café au lait made with chicory coffee is that a) chicory has no caffeine at all and 2) the super-dark roast used in the better blends of coffee and chicory has less caffeine than a light roast would.
I had to park about three blocks away from the Lakehouse. A lot more going on at the lakefront than there was even a few years ago. The Barley Oak beer café is doing a very big business. So is Rip's, which reminds me: I'm overdue to have dinner at Rip's.
But the most interesting thing I find is a sign that says that the Rest Awhile restaurant will be opening soon, in the big mansion of the same name. It was for many years a hotel for people who wanted to get away from New Orleans in summer. A steamboat did a big business moving people from West End to Mandeville in the 1800s.
I have a personal connection with Rest Awhile. When Mary Leigh was six, her Girl Scout group established its summer day camp there. The girls' usual bivouac was in the woods north of Covington, but there was some sort of problem that summer. Although Rest Awhile has a large yard surrounding the big old building, the girls' program was pretty lame compared with the usual woods, rivers, and trails.
I was encouraged by the Girl Scout leaders (and Mary Ann) to help out in the morning sessions. I was the only male in the place. In the eyes of the girls, this made my group special. They kept trying to be part of my program all week long. It was then that I discovered the greatly underrated attachment that girls have to their dads. For the next ten years, my daughter Mary Leigh and I spent more rewarding hours together than I previously thought was possible. More still than I had with the logical association my son and I enjoyed.
I thought about that some more over the weekend, when I found, buried in the mail on the kitchen counter, Mary Leigh's Father's Day card. It depicts a toaster that opops when you unfold the card. For some reason, my logo around out house is a slice of toast. I eat one for breakfast every day. But what's the big deal?
Lakehouse. Mandeville: 2025 Lakeshore Dr. 985-626-3006.
[divider type=""]
Saturday, July 2, 2016.
A Wine Dinner For Two In The Bar At Dakota.
I am still untying knots in the disaster caused by the death of my old (two years) computer a a few months ago. Most if it's worked out, but I keep getting reports of irregularities in my NOMenu mailing list. This week's glitch is that a lot of paying Five-Star subscribers are also getting the free Red Bean edition. (Everything in the latter is also in the former, but the opposite is not true.) I hate to inconvenience my subscribers. (If you're reading this and have this problem, tell me with an email to tomfitz@nomenu.com.)
[caption id="attachment_52062" align="alignright" width="278"]
Two kinds of grilled oysters at Dakota.[/caption]
I chip away at that until it's radio show time. I hoped to cut the grass afterwards, but we get a big burst of rain. The storms and waves on the lake drive Mary Ann and her kayak away from her planned waterborne exercise, and me from my usual walk.
We decide to have dinner in the bar at Dakota. Mary Ann has developed a liking for dining in lounges. She follows the vogues more assiduously than I do, but I must say that our frequent bar dinners have been a pleasure.
An unexpected aspect of moving to the bar is that in most cases a restaurant's bar is the quietest room in the house. That was certainly true of Dakota this night. I think the ambient sound drifting into the bar from the dining room was louder than that generated in the bar itself.
We begin with a half-dozen grilled oysters, done two different ways. Although one of them is certainly inspired by Drago's, it's different enough to make a statement, and gets the evening off on a lusty note.
[caption id="attachment_52063" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Tuna bites.[/caption]
Now we have some tuna seared around the outside, placed on crisp wontons, and brought forth with Asian flavors: wasabi aioli and a bit of ginger. It's named with the initials of a regular customer who asked to have this formula. It became so popular that now the dish has its own button on the dining-room-to-kitchen computer.
[caption id="attachment_52060" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Gazpacho.[/caption]
While I'm studying this, MA has a martini glass of gazpacho before her. She likes it, which means I will like it, too. And I do. Just the right tomato touch, and something a little smoky.
[caption id="attachment_52061" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Grilled cheese and Brie soup.[/caption]
Dakota's most famous dish is its thick, rich crab and Brie bisque. Chef Kim Kringlie has over the years come up with many variations on the theme. The current one gathers in two grilled cheese sandwich points with a demitasse of the soup itself. You dunk the latter into the former. Sounds goofy, but it's just right. Lot of crab lumps in there.
[caption id="attachment_52059" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Barbecue three ways.[/caption]
The only dish identifiable as an entree is a trio of barbecue: lamb ribs, a quail, and short ribs. MA goes for this sort of thing big time. I'm less than blown away by it, having largely retired from the barbecue binge in restaurants around the country. I was cooking, eating, judging, and writing about barbecue a little too long. (Don't make me write again about the 750 pounds of brisket I cooked on many occasions with fellow dads from Our Lady of the Lake School, when our kiddos were going there twenty years ago.)
[caption id="attachment_52058" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Three ice creams: vanilla, banana, and sweet corn (!).[/caption]
We end up with three different house-made ice creams. One of them is banana--not often seen in creameries. The other is sweet corn ice cream. Hm. All good.
Dakota. Covington: 629 N US 190. 985-892-3712.
Crabcake on a salad at Lakehouse.[/caption]
She has only a salad for her half of the culinary argument. I had an excellent filet mignon last time, so I don't want that today. I guess I'll have the crab cake. You get two, and they are large, but the crabmeat itself is generic white meat (as opposed to jumbo lump) and could have done with some more interesting seasonings. It's served atop an inch-thick layer of pasta alfredo, and is in twice the quantity I could finish.
The chef had read something I wrote about café au lait last week, and sends out two cups of his version of the classic hot beverage, with hot milk foamed very lightly--about the way I'd make it at home. But if this was a chicory blend, that fact was lost on my palate. I say that if you're going to serve café au lait in any setting that is fully engaged with the flavors of New Orleans, you've got to use a chicory blend.
The coffee is superb on its own. But it keeps me awake later than I would have liked. Among the many benefits of café au lait made with chicory coffee is that a) chicory has no caffeine at all and 2) the super-dark roast used in the better blends of coffee and chicory has less caffeine than a light roast would.
I had to park about three blocks away from the Lakehouse. A lot more going on at the lakefront than there was even a few years ago. The Barley Oak beer café is doing a very big business. So is Rip's, which reminds me: I'm overdue to have dinner at Rip's.
But the most interesting thing I find is a sign that says that the Rest Awhile restaurant will be opening soon, in the big mansion of the same name. It was for many years a hotel for people who wanted to get away from New Orleans in summer. A steamboat did a big business moving people from West End to Mandeville in the 1800s.
I have a personal connection with Rest Awhile. When Mary Leigh was six, her Girl Scout group established its summer day camp there. The girls' usual bivouac was in the woods north of Covington, but there was some sort of problem that summer. Although Rest Awhile has a large yard surrounding the big old building, the girls' program was pretty lame compared with the usual woods, rivers, and trails.
I was encouraged by the Girl Scout leaders (and Mary Ann) to help out in the morning sessions. I was the only male in the place. In the eyes of the girls, this made my group special. They kept trying to be part of my program all week long. It was then that I discovered the greatly underrated attachment that girls have to their dads. For the next ten years, my daughter Mary Leigh and I spent more rewarding hours together than I previously thought was possible. More still than I had with the logical association my son and I enjoyed.
I thought about that some more over the weekend, when I found, buried in the mail on the kitchen counter, Mary Leigh's Father's Day card. It depicts a toaster that opops when you unfold the card. For some reason, my logo around out house is a slice of toast. I eat one for breakfast every day. But what's the big deal?
Two kinds of grilled oysters at Dakota.[/caption]
I chip away at that until it's radio show time. I hoped to cut the grass afterwards, but we get a big burst of rain. The storms and waves on the lake drive Mary Ann and her kayak away from her planned waterborne exercise, and me from my usual walk.
We decide to have dinner in the bar at Dakota. Mary Ann has developed a liking for dining in lounges. She follows the vogues more assiduously than I do, but I must say that our frequent bar dinners have been a pleasure.
An unexpected aspect of moving to the bar is that in most cases a restaurant's bar is the quietest room in the house. That was certainly true of Dakota this night. I think the ambient sound drifting into the bar from the dining room was louder than that generated in the bar itself.
We begin with a half-dozen grilled oysters, done two different ways. Although one of them is certainly inspired by Drago's, it's different enough to make a statement, and gets the evening off on a lusty note.
[caption id="attachment_52063" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Tuna bites.[/caption]
Now we have some tuna seared around the outside, placed on crisp wontons, and brought forth with Asian flavors: wasabi aioli and a bit of ginger. It's named with the initials of a regular customer who asked to have this formula. It became so popular that now the dish has its own button on the dining-room-to-kitchen computer.
[caption id="attachment_52060" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Gazpacho.[/caption]
While I'm studying this, MA has a martini glass of gazpacho before her. She likes it, which means I will like it, too. And I do. Just the right tomato touch, and something a little smoky.
[caption id="attachment_52061" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Grilled cheese and Brie soup.[/caption]
Dakota's most famous dish is its thick, rich crab and Brie bisque. Chef Kim Kringlie has over the years come up with many variations on the theme. The current one gathers in two grilled cheese sandwich points with a demitasse of the soup itself. You dunk the latter into the former. Sounds goofy, but it's just right. Lot of crab lumps in there.
[caption id="attachment_52059" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Barbecue three ways.[/caption]
The only dish identifiable as an entree is a trio of barbecue: lamb ribs, a quail, and short ribs. MA goes for this sort of thing big time. I'm less than blown away by it, having largely retired from the barbecue binge in restaurants around the country. I was cooking, eating, judging, and writing about barbecue a little too long. (Don't make me write again about the 750 pounds of brisket I cooked on many occasions with fellow dads from Our Lady of the Lake School, when our kiddos were going there twenty years ago.)
[caption id="attachment_52058" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Three ice creams: vanilla, banana, and sweet corn (!).[/caption]
We end up with three different house-made ice creams. One of them is banana--not often seen in creameries. The other is sweet corn ice cream. Hm. All good.
