Saturday, August 13, 2016.
All Alone, Fat Spooning And Thai Chilling.
It rains ferociously overnight, and water is lapping over the road to the Cool Water Ranch. But that is as high as it will get. The serious rain is now west of us, which takes a load off my mind. And I could use some relief. My wireless phone number has been hijacked, which completes the collection of phone lines that have gone sour in the past month. This problem is so bizarre that nobody from AT&T or anywhere else seems to be able to help me get a working phone again. As of this writing (Wednesday in the future of today's Diary date), I still have no working cellphone.
After running my errands, I stop in for a late breakfast at the Fat Spoon in Covington. This is a very well-run café in the former Frostop, with a big menu and dining room personnel who are almost too friendly and eager to please. I have a simple platter of soft-scrambled eggs, bacon, grits, and a waffle made with both sweet potatoes and pecans. This is such a natural combination that it must have been invented before, but I don't remember ever having seen something like this.
The rain continues off and on throughout the afternoon. I have a one-hour radio show to put on the air at two o'clock. Then it's back to a very quiet house, interrupted only by the scrabbling feet of the dogs, who have nails so long that they have a hard time getting traction on the wood floor. More rain comes, but the water level outside seems to be ebbing. And now I'm hearing reports that major highways around Baton Rouge are being blocked by flooding measurable in feet.
To dinner at the Thai Chili. I get red curry, two-stars hot. I have found that Thai Chili underestimates the pepper heat of its stir-fries. Two stars here is any other local Thai restaurant's three stars. Once I did order three stars, and almost began to see stars. But I'd prefer that to underseasoning.
Thai Chili. Covington: 1102 N US 190. 985-809-0180.
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Sunday, August 14, 2016.
Crepes Appear Unexpectedly.
If I had any doubts about the choir in which I sing every Sunday, they were dispelled today. I went down to communion prematurely, and heard the rest of the choir sing the second hymn. We have no working microphones up there today, so I was hearing them with no amplification. They sounded terrific. Most of them are in their teens; the rest of the singers are their parents and grandparents. I've sung in choirs since fourth grade, and I don't remember any other of their age being that good.
It's still raining a lot, but not as badly as yesterday. The Baton Rouge area is getting slammed. The number of people who have been rescued from their flooded homes is over a thousand. This will go down as the year it rained.
Breakfast at the Abita Roasters in Covington. I get the last table available. By the time I leave, some twenty people are waiting to be seated. It's less than a year this restaurant has been there. Like its predecessors, it got off to a slow start, but even though it's well hidden on back streets, the goodness of its food and the titanic portions they serve have grabbed a serious clientele.
[caption id="attachment_51012" align="alignnone" width="480"]
A typically enormous breakfast at Abita Roaster.[/caption]
There's a new menu since the last time I was here, a few weeks ago. A section of crepes shows up among the omelets and waffles. The variety I choose is the crepes monsieur. That's a take on the famous French ham-and-cheese fried sandwich. But the texture of the crepe part is thick and puffy, like that of an omelette. Not even close to the classic French savory crepe. I think they ought either to change the name or develop a new recipe for the thin pancakes.
Yesterday I took a four-lap walk around the ranch. Today I get three laps done when it starts raining, suddenly, soakingly, and amidst thunder and lightning. The sun was shining when I started. I should have checked in with the dog Susie, who knows when bad weather is near sooner than I do.
For those following Susie's story, the completely broken shoulder bone, affected by bone cancer, seems not to exist anymore. She's getting around with about ninety percent mobility. Runs and jumps. The miracle continues!
I work through the evening to finish tomorrow's newsletter, so I can spend tomorrow morning trying to get my phone back from the beyond. I take a break for supper at Zea. We haven't been there in awhile, and I have a hankering for their Sunday evening tomato basil soup. For the third time in the last few months, they have run out of the soup by early evening. I almost get up and leave, but I have no better place to go.
I get the heretofore great crab cakes. They have changed the recipe to include two thick slices of fried green tomato. I have never understood the appeal of that item. I take a big bite of the tomato to open my mind, but that's all I want to eat of it. The crab cakes are also changed by an etouffee sauce. What happened to those great little crab cakes with the spicy, Southwestern-style flavor?
The waiter, who knows my typical order, was apologetic before I had a chance to start ordering. How did he remember that I would get the tomato-basil soup? Why, it's what great waiters do.
To dinner at the Thai Chili. I get red curry, two-stars hot. I have found that Thai Chili underestimates the pepper heat of its stir-fries. Two stars here is any other local Thai restaurant's three stars. Once I did order three stars, and almost began to see stars. But I'd prefer that to underseasoning.
A typically enormous breakfast at Abita Roaster.[/caption]
There's a new menu since the last time I was here, a few weeks ago. A section of crepes shows up among the omelets and waffles. The variety I choose is the crepes monsieur. That's a take on the famous French ham-and-cheese fried sandwich. But the texture of the crepe part is thick and puffy, like that of an omelette. Not even close to the classic French savory crepe. I think they ought either to change the name or develop a new recipe for the thin pancakes.
Yesterday I took a four-lap walk around the ranch. Today I get three laps done when it starts raining, suddenly, soakingly, and amidst thunder and lightning. The sun was shining when I started. I should have checked in with the dog Susie, who knows when bad weather is near sooner than I do.
For those following Susie's story, the completely broken shoulder bone, affected by bone cancer, seems not to exist anymore. She's getting around with about ninety percent mobility. Runs and jumps. The miracle continues!
I work through the evening to finish tomorrow's newsletter, so I can spend tomorrow morning trying to get my phone back from the beyond. I take a break for supper at Zea. We haven't been there in awhile, and I have a hankering for their Sunday evening tomato basil soup. For the third time in the last few months, they have run out of the soup by early evening. I almost get up and leave, but I have no better place to go.
I get the heretofore great crab cakes. They have changed the recipe to include two thick slices of fried green tomato. I have never understood the appeal of that item. I take a big bite of the tomato to open my mind, but that's all I want to eat of it. The crab cakes are also changed by an etouffee sauce. What happened to those great little crab cakes with the spicy, Southwestern-style flavor?
The waiter, who knows my typical order, was apologetic before I had a chance to start ordering. How did he remember that I would get the tomato-basil soup? Why, it's what great waiters do.
